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 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 AT LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 FELIX PLUG-EL
 
 tales of Cangucdoc
 
 Stanford edition 
 
 Limited to one hundred and fifty copies 
 No
 
 71
 
 FELIX FLUOKL 
 
 of an$ucdoc 
 
 Samuel *JdC(fue$*Brun 
 
 lOith an Introduction bp 
 
 ffarrictlO* Preston 
 lHu$trdtion$-bp-rnc$t:Cfeixono
 
 COPYRIGHT 
 
 WILLIAM DOXET 
 
 1896
 
 TS 
 
 DEDICATION: 
 
 TO 
 THE MEMORY OF 
 
 THE STORT- TELLERS 
 
 177241
 
 Pref; 
 
 ace 
 
 "THE "TALES OF LANGUEDOC" are drawn from a fund 
 * of stories, sayings, and traditions, which came to me 
 by birthright, along with the ancient Bible, the tall clock, 
 and other heirlooms, carrying with them about the same 
 sense of exclusive ownership. Whatever may have 
 been their origin in common folk-lore, they formed an 
 important part of the conviviality of the ancestral 
 hearth from an early date, and for several generations 
 have taken on the personality of the different narrators; 
 so that, in their present form, I have come to regard 
 them as my heritage of the unwritten literature of my 
 native land a heritage that has brought with it a 
 responsibility in view of succession; for, to survive in 
 a new world and with a new generation, oral traditions 
 must take on a permanent form, verbal narration must 
 be written, and the vernacular find an equivalent in the 
 colloquial expressions of another language. To attempt 
 so difficult a thing with only my own resources would 
 be presumptuous. Besides the indelible impressions of 
 a youth passed with a race of story-tellers, I have fortu 
 nately been able to command help of a more tangible 
 nature, without which the collection would not be 
 complete.
 
 2 Preface 
 
 The sole survivor of the story-tellers has, with much 
 labor, furnished me with his own manuscripts, deline 
 ating the tales in the vernacular, and supplying the 
 connecting links. 
 
 With this material I have worked to combine and 
 embody, as in a composite picture, the caste and coloring 
 given by the different narrators, calling to aid an able 
 artist, Mr. Ernest Peixotto, to supply in a measure the 
 loss of scenery and associations, and the acting that went 
 so far to supplement the original version. 
 
 The difficulty of rendering the coarse picturesqueness 
 of a language so rich in metaphor and so free in its 
 range of figurative expressions could only be partially 
 met by the use of slang and vulgarisms, which it is 
 hoped will be considered pardonable. The rhymes and 
 quatrains, with the sonorous ring of the vernacular, 
 which sets itself to meter so easily, can have no equiva 
 lent in English. 
 
 My aim in working out this English version has been 
 to give the spirit of the Languedoc, and to do justice to 
 the original, rather than to reach any standard of scien 
 tific or literary value. 
 
 Soulless as the tales must seem to those initiated in 
 the magic of story-telling, yet practice proves them capa 
 ble of exerting a spell over the children and having 
 some interest for lovers of folk-lore so much so, that 
 the author is encouraged to invite to the hearth a wider 
 circle.
 
 Preface 3 
 
 To the critic the collection will appear full of anach 
 ronisms and inconsistencies. Legend and romance are 
 unduly seasoned with the moral and didactic to the 
 taste of a sterner sect of Huguenots ; the medieval and 
 modern are brought face to face; and fact and fable join 
 hands, regardless of rhyme or reason. Yet all this only 
 rendered them real to those of the ancestral hearth, who 
 knew no sharp lines between the past and present, and 
 who lived on the borderland of the fabulous. 
 
 To my own fireside I owe, in some measure, the 
 inspiration which may be found in these tales ; and to 
 my wife, with whom I discussed the idioms of the langue 
 d'oc, the apt rendering of the vernacular. 
 
 With gratefulness I acknowledge the deep obligation 
 I owe to my uncle, M. Clement Brun, of Fontanes, France, 
 for furnishing me with his written version of most of 
 these tales, as he had them from the lips of my great 
 grandfather at the beginning of the second quarter of 
 this century, and for the suggestion to make of the 
 stories a connected whole. 
 
 My acknowledgments are also due to Dr. Ewald 
 Fliigel, Professors Melville Best Anderson, and Henry 
 Burrowes Lathrop, of Stanford University, for the great 
 interest they have taken in these tales, and the encour 
 agement given to this undertaking. 
 
 SAMUEL JACQUES BRUN. 
 
 Leland Stanford Jr. University, September 1st, 1896.
 
 Contents 
 
 PAGE 
 
 MY GRANDFATHEB'S TOUR OF FRANCE 15 
 
 HOW YOUNG ANGLAS BECAME A MARQUIS, OR THE STORY OF 
 
 THE DUCKS, THE ANTS, AND THE FLIES .... 23 
 
 THE CHINA-VENDER OF QUISSAC 56 
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF MESTE REGE 62 
 
 THE STORY OF THE THREE STRONG MEN: CROWBAR, HOOK- 
 BEARD, AND THE MILLER 71 
 
 THE HAUTBOY PLAYER OF VENTABREN 123 
 
 CYPEYRE OF ST. CLEMENT AND LOU DOUNA OF LECQUES . . 133 
 
 A BLIND MAN'S STORY OF THE MIRACULOUS TREE . . 143 
 
 THE iMARRIAGE OF MONSIEUR ARCANVEL; OR THE STORY OF 
 
 THE GLOVES OF LOUSE-SKIN 199
 
 1. 
 2. 
 3. 
 4. 
 
 5. 
 
 6. 
 
 7. 
 8. 
 
 9. 
 10. 
 
 11. 
 
 12. 
 
 13. 
 14. 
 
 Frontispiece 
 
 Title-page 
 
 Head-piece 
 
 "LISTENING TO THE STORIES OF OUR WHITE-HAIRED 
 
 GRANDFATHER" ......... 19 
 
 "THE SUPERB ANIMAL HELD HIS HEAD PROUDLY HIGH " 29 
 
 ANGLAS ARRIVING AT THE INN ...... 33 
 
 " TAP, TAP, TAP, AT THE WINDOW-PANE " . 38 
 
 " ON THE WATERS OF THE STREAM, ARRANGED IN BAT 
 
 TALIONS, THOUSANDS OF DUCKS " ..... 41 
 
 "THEY MADE HIM WIND THROUGH CORRIDORS" . . 47 
 
 Tail-piece ........... 54 
 
 THE MARKET-PLACE OF QUISSAC ...... 59 
 
 "MEANWHILE THE EAGLE WAS SOARING HIGHER" . 65 
 
 " WHICH ROAD GOES TO LECQUES?" ..... 77 
 
 " WITH A JKRK, HOOKBEARD SENT HIM FLYING OVER THE 
 
 STREAM " .......... 79 
 
 83 
 
 15. "CHILDREN FOLLOWED THEM THROUGH THE STREETS"
 
 List of Drawings 
 
 PAGE 
 
 16. CROWBAR AND THE DEVIL, ' 99 
 
 17. "FAR IN THE PARK, HE COULD SEE A LORDLY CASTLE" 109 
 
 18. "BOTH WORKED WITH A WILL, HOISTING THE BOXES" 115 
 
 19. . " UNCLE, SEE THAT BIG DOG BEHIND US " . . . . 127 
 
 20. " HE PASSED A TROOP OF DIRTY GYPSIES " . . . 137 
 
 21. "SHEPHERDS LED THEIR FLOCKS UNDER THIS TREE" . 147 
 
 22. " LET US COUNT OUR MONEY " 151 
 
 23. " THEY~GREETED EACH OTHER AS THEY CAME " . . 1161 
 
 24. "A STREAM OF PEOPLE WERE POURING INTO THE 
 
 CHURCH " 173 
 
 25. "GOING STRAIGHT TO THE OLD CHERRY-TREE, GAVE 
 
 &&& K?f ORDERS TO DIG IT UP " 177 
 
 26. " HE FELT HER PULSE AND FOUND NONE "... 181 
 
 27. "LOUISET WENT TO THE GATE" 187 
 
 28. " GIRLS WERE COMING AND GOING " 195 
 
 29. "WITH THE STORM RAGING ABOUT HIM" .... 205 
 
 30. " THE POOR MISS LIFTED HER HAND FOR THE BEGGAR " 219 
 
 31. "WHAT is YOUR MASTER'S NAME?" 225 
 
 32. " YONDER is MR. ARCANVEL'S CASTLE " .... 229 
 
 33. " THE COCK CREW, AND THE STORY ENDED "... 240
 
 Introduction 
 
 IT is very nearly forty years since the first publication, 
 at Avignon, of Frederick Mistral's " Mireio " marked 
 the brilliant opening of one of the most noteworthy 
 literary movements of this century. A new poet of 
 unmistakable genius, producing at the first bound a 
 work of epic proportions, with a theme of singular 
 freshness, and in a hitherto neglected Latin dialect, it 
 will be long before the reading world receives another 
 such sensation! And the wonder grew, as it became 
 apparent that the new singer was only one, although the 
 leader, of a tuneful choir, with a common inspiration, 
 a close organization, and a distinct and serious literary 
 purpose. If that purpose has been but imperfectly ful 
 filled, in so far as it regarded the claim of the rustic 
 modern Proven9al to rank as a separate and long-de 
 scended language, in other respects the daring promise 
 of the first " felibre " has been richly kept. They had 
 actually struck a vein hitherto unworked in letters, and 
 the mine of poetic and picturesque material to which 
 it led, has been yielding steadily for a generation, and 
 shows no signs as yet of failure. The men of the early 
 school, many of whom have already passed away, were 
 born and bred in the romantic period, and idealized
 
 io Introduction 
 
 upon principle their pictures of Provencal life and 
 scenery. 
 
 Then caine Alphonse Daudet, the most sane and 
 sympathetic of realists, no less a patriot in the best sense 
 of the term, because he was also a citizen of the world, 
 who dared, in "Les Lettres de Mon Moulin," and the 
 immortal " Numa Roumestan," to depict the humor and 
 confess the limitations, as well as chant the glories, of 
 the South of France. 
 
 Between them, they have succeeded in making their 
 fascinating country a familiar haunt of the fancy, even 
 to those who have never seen it; and we know the men 
 and women of Gard and Var, Vaucluse and the Bouches 
 du Rhone as we know our next of kin. We have roamed 
 their fields and gathered their fruit, eaten at their tables, 
 knelt in their churches, and shouted at their banquets. 
 We have a lively interest in all their concerns, from the 
 gravest to the most trivial, and have come long since to 
 care less for the manner of their native speech than for 
 the substance of the news which they have to give us of 
 themselves. We are only too glad, therefore, to have 
 the part played by the humble kindred of Mirabeau in 
 the great Revolution, illustrated by Madame Janvier's 
 graceful translation of Felix Gras's " Reds of the Midi," 
 and to make acquaintance with the fireside tales and 
 local traditions on which the children of Gard are 
 brought up, in the singularly clear, animated, and idio 
 matic English of M. Samuel Jacques Brun.
 
 Introduction 1 1 
 
 It was a happy thought of Mr. Brun's to give a per 
 manent form to the half-dozen extravagant but highly 
 entertaining viva voce naratives which had constituted for 
 generations a sort of heirloom in his own family ; and 
 their publication seems peculiarly opportune just now, 
 when the taste for story-telling pure and simple, without 
 any oblique purpose or appended moral, has so remark 
 ably revived. No such feast for the juvenile imagina 
 tion has been provided since the Brothers Grimm 
 collected the " Marchen " of Germany; and the scientific 
 student of folk-lore may welcome the opportunity now 
 offered him of comparing the nursery legends of North 
 ern and Southern Europe from his own serious point of 
 view. But the great merit and charm for the general 
 reader, in these ingenuous " Contes Bleus " of Langue- 
 doc will be found in their broad and beaming humor 
 and their intensely dramatic quality. Even the tales of 
 Hans Christian Andersen, and the marvelous "Jungle 
 Book" appear slow, subtle, and tortuous beside the 
 breathless movement and almost brutal directness of 
 these. Character, as in the delightful fable of the " Three 
 Strong Men," is drawn in true child-fashion, with the 
 fewest and blackest lines; but the effect is immense. 
 There is an endless succession of thrilling incidents and 
 adventures, preposterous in themselves, it may be, but 
 related with the most imposing conviction, and rendered 
 quite credible for the moment by the ease of their 
 sequence, and the rapidity with which they pass. Incon-
 
 12 Introduction 
 
 sistencies are reconciled and anachronisms overborne by 
 the strong vitality of the perennial story, which, as it is 
 handed down from father to son, adopts and retains 
 something from each period without losing its identity, 
 and often reflects, in quaint association with the most 
 modern views and impressions, the ruling passion of a 
 long-past time the Huguenot's hatred and distrust 
 of the priest; the exulting contempt of the first republi 
 can era for courtiers and kings. Now and then, perhaps, 
 the sentiment is less antiquated than it appears, and 
 points to some unchangeable idiosyncrasy of race. The 
 exceedingly rude treatment accorded to the gentle bride 
 in the story of " Monsieur Arcanvel " might seem like 
 a survival from the dark ages, but for our recollection 
 of the complacency with which good Tante Portal in 
 "Numa Roumestan" is made to quote the current Pro- 
 vengal proverb : " Lesfemmcs ne sont pas des genss." 
 
 Very rarely, as in the droll story of "How Anglas 
 Became a Marquis, or the Ants, the Ducks, and Flies," 
 a certain flourish is made at the outset of a precept to 
 be inculcated in this case the duty of kindness and 
 consideration to the humblest of God's creatures. But 
 here, as always, the story is so much better even than 
 the moral, that the latter falls rather into abeyance. 
 
 The main lessons conveyed by the fireside tales of 
 Languedoc are those benignant and encouraging, if ele 
 mentary ones those which appeal so forcibly to a child's 
 sense of justice, and are none the less grateful to the
 
 Introduction 1 3 
 
 reader of experience because they show a refreshing dis 
 parity with the average results of life that the bravest 
 youth will win the best and fairest bride, without refer 
 ence to original differences of condition ; that the virtu 
 ous poor man will inherit and enjoy the estates of the 
 malign millionaire; and the bold, bad boy who has 
 maltreated his brother will be humbled in due course 
 of time and handed over to the relentless magnanimity 
 of his junior; in short, that every good deed is bound 
 to receive a tangible reward, even in this present evil 
 world, and every wrong a triumphant righting. 
 
 The time-worn elder may shake his head officially 
 over such flattering promises, but his juvenile auditory 
 will be clamoring loudly meanwhile to hear the story 
 read again; and that, after all, is the true test of excel 
 lence in such matters. 
 
 HARRIET WATERS PRESTON. 
 
 October 1st, 1896.
 
 lp Grandfathers 
 Cour of France*
 
 My Grandfather's Tour of 
 France 
 
 DURING the long winter evenings of my youth, my 
 grandfather used to amuse us and keep us awake 
 by telling stories of all sorts, but the one which we liked 
 best was the account of a journey that he had taken 
 when a young man before his marriage. 
 
 Travelling in those days was very different from 
 what it is now. The middle class had no private 
 carriages; the lords, and high dignitaries of the church, 
 travelled in lumbering vehicles of their own over 
 abominable roads; the industrial, the bourgeois, 
 travelled on horseback, and the rest on foot. To be sure 
 the mail coach carried three or four passengers, but that 
 was too expensive for any but the nobles, the clergy, and 
 the government officials. The pedestrians, and they 
 were few, indeed, for most people staid at home, were 
 " compagnons" or journeymen-joiners, saddlers, masons, 
 carpenters, blacksmiths, and others, who tramped about 
 to see the country and returned home with the prestige 
 of a traveller. "Faire son tour de France" it was called.
 
 1 8 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 However skillful a craftsman the "compagnon" might 
 be, he was not considered up in his trade unless he had 
 made his "tour de France," and though he had travelled 
 ever so little the most stupid fellow in the universe was 
 all right if he had gone a few miles away from home. 
 Some went to Galician, others to Uzes, a few went to 
 Lyons, and when one, perchance, went to Paris, then you 
 should have seen how proud he was, and heard the lies 
 he told. Ah, that one knew it all ! 
 
 Almost all left home well dressed, with sack well-filled 
 and some money in pocket; they returned lean and 
 empty, in tattered summer clothes in the middle of 
 winter, a few rags tied in a handkerchief, shoes out at 
 the sole, a shock of unkempt hair, and as much money 
 as there is in my eye. But, in spite of all this, look out! 
 they had been to Lyons ! Well, the customs of the times 
 were such! 
 
 Those, who like my grandfather had been to distant 
 countries for their education, were very rare, and often 
 they had for travelling companions the tradesmen above 
 mentioned or some soldiers returning home from their 
 discharge. 
 
 You must understand that such a journey lasted 
 many months and that, from time to time, the traveller 
 had to rest. My grandfather improved those days in 
 visiting places of interest in the towns where he tarried 
 as he passed through. Thus he saw many sights, had 
 many adventures, heard many tales, and it was all this
 
 My Grandfather's Tour of France 2 1 
 
 that he used to relate to us winter evenings by the large 
 fire-place of the ancestral dwelling. 
 
 My brother and I sat on each side of the hearth under 
 the mantel of the great kitchen chimney, watching the 
 slow burning log, hearing the sizz of the pot hung on 
 the crane, and listening for hours to the stories of my 
 white-haired grandfather. 
 
 I shall let my grandfather speak and be only the 
 scribe taking down the story as faithfully as my memory 
 will allow. 
 
 " When I was young I had a great leaning toward 
 an education. I remember going to school and taking 
 great delight in reading the two or three books which 
 were all the teacher had, and in the lessons in geo 
 graphy of France, on the customs of the people, and a 
 good deal about distant countries. These things inter 
 ested me so much, that the desire to see for myself the 
 things he told us about increased as I grew older, and 
 when out of my teens, I ventured to speak to my father 
 of my great desire to travel. My father was much 
 surprised at first and a little annoyed ; but, as he was 
 exceedingly intelligent, he soon realized that a trip to 
 distant provinces might be a great benefit to me through 
 life a serious journey, of course, not a frivolous trip, 
 so he took me to his room, and very impressively, gave 
 me all the injunctions which his parental duty required. 
 
 " He told me what my conduct should be towards my
 
 22 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 fellowmen, especially my fellow travellers he cautioned 
 me against being out late, and warned me of wicked 
 companions and highwaymen he gave me much other 
 counsel to which I gave little heed at the time, like 
 any other youngster, but which, I confess, was to me of 
 great value during my journey, as well as in after life. 
 
 "'To encourage you in well-doing/ added my father, 
 ' I will tell you what happened to a young man of the 
 Camargue you will see that good conduct and kind 
 ness often receive their reward on this earth.'"
 
 fw> rtw 
 
 fiou> young 
 Became a marquis, 
 or tbe Storp of 
 tbe Ducks, tbe Ante, 
 and tbe flies.
 
 How Young Anglas Became a 
 Marquis 
 
 NOT far from Aiguemorte, on the Mediterranean sea, 
 lived a rich peasant named Anglas. His farm was 
 one of the finest in the fertile region of the Lower Rhone, 
 and was known far and wide as, ' The Tour of Anglas.' 
 
 On this domain he lived with his son, a promising 
 young man, upon whom he had bestowed great care. 
 
 Young Anglas had finished school, and was eager 
 to take a trip to Paris. Ambitious as such an undertak 
 ing was for his country-folk, the father had granted the 
 young man's desire, and furnished a handsome outfit for 
 the journey. A fine young horse from the Camargue, 
 snow white, with head alert, tail sweeping the ground, 
 nimble as a lean cat ! He could leap a twelve-foot ditch 
 at a bound, and the rider was fearless as the steed was 
 swift. 
 
 A fine appearance they made on the morn of the de 
 parture, the shining white palfrey and handsome young 
 rider. The father could not help exclaiming, as he 
 viewed the youth from top to toe, admiring his black 
 hair, hazel eyes, pearly teeth, and self-reliant manner: 
 " What a fine fellow ; not many can equal him ! " Then 
 he added, with a shade of sadness : " May God bless
 
 26 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 him on his journey, and may he return to me a man of 
 experience, yet as pure and good as he is now." 
 
 When the horse and rider were lost to sight, the old 
 man fell a prey to sad reflections; a tear moistened his 
 eye, and as he entered his house he said : " Alas, what 
 awaits him in his travels ? Were I with him I might 
 direct and protect him ; but ignorant as he is of the 
 hardships of travel, the temptations of the world and of 
 evil companions, abandoned to himself, what will become 
 of him ? " And day by day, as he followed his son in 
 his wanderings northward, he thought only of the perils 
 he might encounter, and his heart remained a prey to 
 the griefs of separation. 
 
 From the young man's point of view all appeared 
 very different. He had heard so much about it from his 
 friends who had taken the trip that he was burning with 
 desire to see and learn; so it was not with reluctance 
 that he quitted the farm, on that eventful morning, 
 mounted his pawing steed, gay as a goldfinch, and 
 dashed out into the world, scarcely looking back to see 
 his father, who stood waving adieus until he was out 
 of sight. 
 
 In holiday mood, the young man went on his way. 
 The sights he saw and the adventures he met with will 
 make a wonderful story, so let us follow him. 
 
 His way at first led along dikes and ditches, through 
 marshes and among many ponds and lakes. He passed 
 over bridges, across islets, and forded the shallow waters
 
 Young Anglas 27 
 
 as he pursued his course. Little villages sprang up as 
 way marks. He had passed several before the close of the 
 first day, Bramasec, Canaveira, Servilla, and was near- 
 ing La Fossa, when something happened. The white 
 dust in the middle of the road suddenly became alive, a 
 black moving mass confronted him. He stopped short, 
 very much frightened, and found to his great surprise 
 that the road was covered, as far as he could see, with 
 ducks. Ducks are plenty in that region, and they often 
 migrate from one lake to another, either swimming or 
 flying; but these were ducklings, in pin-feathers, and 
 could not fly at all, so the traveller was brought to a 
 standstill before this army of slow waddlers. " He walks 
 like a duck," is often said of a clumsy walker; and, with 
 the way blocked by these slow, awkward creatures, what 
 to do was the question. 
 
 "While Anglas was debating, up came a mother of the 
 flock, and said to him, in her patois, " Gentle knight, do 
 no harm either to me or my flock, and I may some day 
 do you a service." 
 
 " My father," said Anglas, " has too often taught me 
 to harm no one for me not to heed his advice ; I will 
 do you no harm;" so saying, he spurred his horse, which, 
 quick as a deer, leaped the ditch to the right, and fol 
 lowed the dike. From this vantage ground he looked 
 back on the ducks. The road was full of them; as far 
 as the eye could reach there was nothing but ducks. 
 Reaching the end of the dike of the ditch, he rode on
 
 28 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 the high dikes of the Rhone, and the road was yet full 
 of them. At last, about sundown, he passed the last 
 ones, and, as he wished to spend the night at Galician, 
 at the house of a friend, he decided to ford the lake. 
 
 The horse and rider, gliding over the waters of the 
 lake, was a scene for a painter. The superb animal held 
 his head proudly high, while his long, flowing mane 
 trailed the water, and his waving tail floated out behind. 
 He seemed to scarcely sink in the water for fear of drench 
 ing his rider. Thus they safely crossed the lake, and 
 reached, by nightfall, the house of his friend. 
 
 Here Anglas met with a hearty welcome. His friend 
 did not expect him, but was greatly pleased to see him. 
 
 After the usual greetings, a good supper and a night's 
 rest, he set out next day as cheerily as on the first of his 
 journey. 
 
 He did not mention to his friend his meeting with the 
 ducks nor his conversation with the mother duck. It 
 was too natural in those regions to meet ducks, and as to 
 his conversation with the leader of the flock, he attached 
 to it too little importance. 
 
 Thanking his friend warmly, he set out for Garon, 
 thence toward Jonquieres, crossed the Rhone on the sus 
 pension-bridge at Beaucaire, visiting Tarascon and her 
 Tarasque, which is neither man nor beast, but a creature 
 of whose historic fame you may sometimes learn. From 
 Tarascon he went to Avignon, and saw the castles of the 
 Popes.
 
 Young Anglas 3 i 
 
 A month later, we find him in the vicinity of Vienne, 
 in Dauphiny, at the foot of a steep grade known as the 
 Grade of Tarare. The sun hardly pierces the clouds, his 
 horse, which has been trotting since leaving the inn, is 
 set to a walk. He is cheerful, happy, and, so far, satisfied 
 with his journey. 
 
 The road makes a sharp bend a little higher up. 
 When he reaches this bend, he stops short, and, this time, 
 very much frightened. 
 
 His horse sprang to one side, and, had he not been a 
 good horseman, he would have been thrown off. But he 
 is not a man, after all, to lose his wits ; he pats the horse's 
 neck, speaks reassuringly to him, and faces the seeming 
 danger. 
 
 The road appeared to be flowing with blood, as if 
 poured out from the hill-top. "Good gracious!" he ex 
 claimed, " a whole army must have been massacred on 
 yonder hill ! "What does all this mean?" 
 
 While thus guessing, the blood reached his horse's feet 
 and he saw that it was only a colony of red ants pouring 
 down the road, like an avalanche. No doubt, they were 
 on their way to a change of climate, and fast they went, 
 too, unlike the flock of ducks previously met. 
 
 One of the mother ants left the ranks, and came 
 towards him, and said, in her language, "Horseman, 
 gentle horseman, do no harm either to me or my little 
 ones, and we may some day render you a service." 
 
 Young Anglas, faithful to his father's admonitions,
 
 32 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 granted her request, and, as in the case of the ducks, left 
 the highway, went down precipices, climbed steep hills, 
 crossed woods and ravines, at the risk of his life. Two 
 or three times he came near the road to follow it again, 
 but found it full of ants, and was obliged to turn away. 
 At last, about sunset, he was able to take the road, and 
 reached, by nightfall, a town. 
 
 The next day, and the day following, he pursued his 
 way. observing, and taking notes of the points of interest. 
 Two weeks after his encounter with the ants we find him 
 on the banks of the Seine, in the vicinity of Melum. 
 
 On that day the sky was overcast, it had rained during 
 the night, the atmosphere was thick and muggy, not a 
 breath of air was stirring. Toward ten o'clock, the sun 
 pierced the clouds, and the heat was depressing. 
 
 He was walking his horse, whose white coat was cov 
 ered with foam. Young Anglas was mopping his brow, 
 and exclaiming, " Whew, what a hot day ! " when the 
 sun hid again behind a cloud. The cloud proved to 
 be a swarm of flies, and they soon surrounded him. They 
 were everywhere, overhead, at his horse's feet, in the 
 road, on the trees. Although in the swamps of the Ca- 
 margue, near his home, flies are unusually thick, never 
 had he seen so many of them. 
 
 He had stopped his horse, and was thinking what to 
 do, when a mother fly came out of the swarm, and said 
 to him, this time in pretty good French, " Horseman, 
 gentle horseman, do no harm to me or my little ones,
 
 27 /
 
 Young Anglas 35 
 
 and I may some day render you a service." As this was 
 the third time the request had been made, he was some 
 what surprised; but, still remembering his father's in 
 junctions, he left the main road, went across meadows 
 and plowed land, up and down many hills, to avoid 
 hurting any of them. 
 
 When he took the road again, all the flies had passed, 
 and not one of them had been killed by accident or other 
 wise by his horse or himself. 
 
 At last, at the end of a certain time, he arrived in 
 Paris, in good health, high spirits, and promising himself 
 the pleasure of visiting every nook and corner of the great 
 capital of France. 
 
 Far was he from foreseeing what awaited him. Hardly 
 had he alighted from his horse at the inn where he had 
 decided to stay, when the innkeeper said to him, " No 
 doubt, you have come to compete like all the other 
 youths, the more, the merrier! and why not? At 
 your time of life you must do like the rest." 
 
 Surprised to be thus addressed, he replied, " I do not 
 know what you mean. Is there a race, a contest, a com 
 petition of some sort? I know nothing at all about it." 
 
 " Yes, yes," said the innkeeper, " I will tell you all 
 about it; let us have our dinner." 
 
 At table he found a great many youths, come from all 
 parts of France. Each one related what he had done, as 
 well as some things he had not done. Many a lie was 
 told and much boasting indulged in. Young Anglas,
 
 36 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 from the corner of the table, was all ears to listen, and, 
 finally, learned what the innkeeper meant by a competi 
 tion. It would take too long to tell all that was said, but, 
 in short, it was this: 
 
 The king, while boating on the Seine, had used his 
 pocket-handkerchief (kings are human, like other people); 
 drawing it from his pocket, the keys of the royal coffers 
 had fallen into the water. 
 
 At once everybody was set in motion to find them; 
 the boatmen of the Seine, the sailors of the ocean, the 
 fishermen of the country. 
 
 For over a month they had dived, fished, and dredged 
 daily, but in vain. The keys could not be found. The 
 king was in despair. He needed money kings always 
 need money and, without his keys, the royal treasury 
 could not be opened. 
 
 Then, in a moment of great impatience, the king 
 caused to be announced that he would give his daughter 
 in marriage to any one who should bring him the keys 
 within twenty-four hours. The twenty-four hours was 
 to begin the day after young Anglas arrived, at ten 
 o'clock in the morning. 
 
 You may imagine what a hurly-burly Paris was in ! 
 On what a scale preparations were made ! All the boats 
 were let for their weight in gold. All the fishermen 
 from all the ports of France had come. Every man who 
 owned a boat on the French rivers was on the spot; so 
 the commotion and noise was beyond description.
 
 Young Anglas 37 
 
 At the appointed time, all Paris and a great part of 
 the surrounding populace were on the banks of the 
 Seine. The innkeeper arid young Anglas were in the 
 crowd, but only as spectators. All were eager to know 
 who the happy mortal would be whom chance would 
 favor as finder of the keys. The king himself and his 
 whole court had come to join the throng. 
 
 All day long they fished, they dredged, they jostled 
 one another, but without results. At nightfall the crowd 
 dispersed, the king and his court returned to the palace; 
 but all were bent on returning next day to try again 
 their luck. 
 
 In the evening at the table each one related his ex 
 ploits. One had felt something under his harpoon and 
 thought he had them, another had seen a shining thing 
 in his net and had his hopes raised, but it proved to be 
 only a piece of glass, again another told of great things 
 he had seen and done; when a youth from the middle 
 of the table addressed young Anglas, saying: "You. 
 have not tried ; do you believe the keys will come in 
 your pocket by magic ? If you don't search you can't 
 have them ; ' all the craft is in the catching.' " 
 
 He replied : " I did not come to Paris for this purpose, 
 I knew nothing about the lost keys, it is the innkeeper 
 who told me of it first, and he also accompanied me to 
 the Seine as a mere spectator; and when I saw that 
 jostling, quarrelling crowd, and heard the uproar, I re 
 marked to myself that no one could fish out those keys; 
 
 171
 
 7 8 Tales ot Languedoc 
 
 %j ^j 
 
 so you will not have a competitor in me. To-morrow I 
 will do as I did to-day, I will watch you." 
 
 From the middle of the table a tall stout lad spoke up 
 loud enough to be heard all over the room : " Fellows, I 
 distrust those who are so discreet and say little ! Often 
 they work underhand and all their modesty is just put 
 on to mask their plans," then suddenly rising before 
 
 them all " I prefer men who say frankly what they 
 think; so to the boldest the king's daughter ! " 
 
 All eyes were turned toward young Anglas, even a 
 few spoke roughly of him, and had not the innkeeper 
 interfered by announcing that it was bedtime they would 
 have insulted him.
 
 Young Anglas 39 
 
 Poor Anglas retired to his room much grieved at 
 what had been said about him. He was pacing the floor 
 in a gloomy mood when he heard three taps on his win 
 dow pane. He stopped short, said to himself: " What 
 does this mean, is the room haunted ? Ghosts would 
 not surely come to the third story," and he resumed his 
 walk. 
 
 Tap, tap, tap, was again heard at the window pane. 
 He approached, opened it and what was his surprise to 
 find a large duck who said to him : " Knight, gentle 
 knight, you hurt neither me nor my little ones, I have 
 come to render you a service in return." 
 
 " Why, I do not need anything," said Anglas, " thank 
 you just the same." 
 
 " Well," replied the duck, " I heard that the king lost 
 his keys and I wish to dive and get them for you. 
 Everybody is in bed, all is quiet, the moon shines bright, 
 come to the banks of the Seine and within an hour I 
 will give you the lost keys." 
 
 A ray of hope crossed his mind, he took his hat, went 
 noiselessly out of the house and betook himself to the 
 Seine. 
 
 What he saw was well worth a painter's brush ; the 
 pale rays of the moon lighting the Seine, the trees cast 
 ing here and there soft shadows, and on the waters of the 
 swift stream, arranged in battalions, thousands of ducks 
 only waiting the mother's signal to dive for the keys. 
 
 When Anglas appeared the mother said :
 
 4O Tales of Languedoc 
 
 " Children, carefully examine the mud. Ready? 
 Dive!" 
 
 Heads down, tails up ! Down they all went at once 
 and staid so long that Anglas thought them drowned. 
 At last they all came up together. 
 
 " Have you found anything? " said the mother. 
 
 " Nothing ! nothing ! " shouted they in concert. 
 
 " Be not discouraged," said the mother ; " the current 
 is here very strong and the keys may have been carried 
 to yonder bend." 
 
 She rested her ducklings a while and then gave the 
 signal for a new plunge. Heads down, tails up! and 
 the water closed in wavelets over the flock. Ten thou 
 sand bills sifted the fine mud of the river-bend. They 
 remained longer than the first time. 
 
 Then Whizz ! The fleet emerged and with a toss of 
 the head each duck flung the water from his feathers 
 and from every throat rose the exultant cry : 
 
 " We have them ! we have them ! " 
 
 The mother duck took the keys from the one that 
 found them, placed them in Anglas's hand, and before 
 he had time to thank her they were gone. 
 
 Left alone with the precious keys in his hand, the 
 young man was filled with joy. He returned to his hotel, 
 shut himself in his room and tried to sleep, but in vain. 
 
 Morning came; he hastened to see the innkeeper and 
 inform him of his find. The good man exclaimed, in 
 astonishment :
 
 Young Anglas 43 
 
 " You have found the keys ! you are the luckiest youth 
 in the world ! To-morrow you will be the king's son-in- 
 law ! Come quickly with me." And both went to hail 
 the king, who was getting ready to go to the Seine. 
 
 " My king," said the innkeeper, " this youth has 
 found these keys, see whether they are yours." 
 
 The king took the keys, examined them carefully, 
 and said : 
 
 " They are mine." 
 
 He inserted them in the lock and opened the royal 
 treasury. Then, turning toward Anglas: "You shall 
 wed my daughter." 
 
 In one hour all Paris knew that the keys had been 
 found, and who the finder was. The tall lad who had 
 hinted tKat Anglas was mum, said to his friends : 
 
 " I told you so ! Look out for those uncommunicative 
 fellows ! Perhaps at the very moment I was talking to 
 you he had the keys in his pocket." 
 
 Another said: "He was not seen in any boat; he 
 watched us the whole day. I don't understand it." 
 
 A third added " No one knows where he hails 
 from, his mother may be a witch. Did you not see 
 how queer he acted as he sat at the end of the table 
 and listened all agape to everything that was said, 
 hardly answering a question, so shy and innocent ? Oh, 
 he had not come to compete! Then, whack! we are 
 left, that's always the way, ' The fool will not be 
 foiled.' Well, ' There's no use crying over spilled milk.' "
 
 44 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 The Parisians thronged the streets to see the lucky 
 fellow who had found the keys all Paris was in a tur 
 moil. Meanwhile very grave matters occupied the king 
 and his court. 
 
 Most likely, if Anglas had fished out the keys under 
 the king's very nose, he would not have gone back on 
 his word ; but the courtiers suspected magic. The keys 
 had not been found at evening, and in the morning this 
 young man brought them to the king; so they must 
 have been found in the night. The king and his court 
 iers would like to know all about it, but Anglas held to 
 the king's decree, which merely said whosoever should 
 find the keys within twenty-four hours should marry his 
 daughter, and he kept his own counsel. 
 
 Courtiers are often envious; besides, most of them 
 had sons whom they would have most willingly married 
 to the king's daughter. They took counsel, and said to 
 the king : 
 
 " Sire, your decree was given out in a moment of im 
 patience ; so, in your wisdom, you may annul it for the 
 honor of your crown and the happiness of your daughter. 
 This young man is entirely unknown to any of us ; we 
 know not from whence he comes ; a mystery surrounds 
 the finding of the keys, and rumor has it that a fairy 
 gave them to him. "We are all of the opinion that he 
 should be put to another trial, to find out whether he is 
 a magician."
 
 Young Anglas 45 
 
 The king allowed himself to be persuaded, and asked 
 how they proposed to try him. 
 
 A courtier with a long white beard, sunken eyes and 
 hooked nose, said : 
 
 " If the king will believe me, he will have mixed a 
 large heap of wheat, with equal parts of sand, and will 
 give the young man three days to separate the wheat 
 from the sand." 
 
 All the courtiers exclaimed : " Good ! Capital ! " and 
 the king agreed to it. 
 
 " In this there can be no magic," said the old man. 
 " He shall be left with the task in a room by himself, 
 and not by night, either." 
 
 So said, so done. The whole day wheat and sand were 
 carted to one of the upper rooms of the Bastille, and they 
 informed Anglas that if, in three days, he had separated 
 the wheat from the sand, the king's daughter should be 
 his wife. 
 
 Poor fellow ; on hearing this his spirits fell ; he sank 
 upon a bench, quite faint. He thought a great while, 
 with his head upon his hands, while saying to him 
 self: 
 
 " All hope is lost ; I shall have to return as I came. 
 That, however, would not pain me so much, for I had 
 not expected such a marriage ; but on my father's 
 account I am more sorry. Poor father, how little you 
 know the trials of your son ! " 
 
 As he was saying this, he felt something biting his
 
 46 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 leg. He turned up his trousers- and saw a large ant, 
 which said to him : 
 
 " Horseman, gentle horseman, you did no harm to 
 me or my little ones, I have come to render you a ser 
 vice. I heard that the king's courtiers had spoiled 
 your chance of getting the king's daughter, by imposing 
 on you a task that fifty men could not do in a month. 
 I will do the work for you. To-night my little ones and 
 I will come on the roof of the Bastille. As soon as you 
 are alone, open the window for us, and you shall see 
 how quickly the work will be done. Farewell until 
 to-morrow." 
 
 The king, by his chamberlain, informed Anglas that 
 they would send for him at eight o'clock in the morning; 
 that at noon they would fetch him out for dinner, and 
 return him to his work at two o'clock ; at six they would 
 fetch him again, but that no one was to enter his room 
 and disturb him in his work. 
 
 The following day at the appointed time, he was 
 taken to the Bastille. They made him wind through 
 corridors, ascend stair-cases, cross rooms, which the door 
 keepers opened and closed with enormous keys, and, 
 finally, after many turns, he was ushered into the room 
 which contained the heap of sand and wheat. " There 
 is your task," said the guide. The door was closed, the 
 lock grated, and Anglas was left alone. 
 
 The mother ant, on leaving Anglas, went quickly to 
 gather her little ones. Thev crossed Paris under cover
 
 V,
 
 Young Anglas 49 
 
 of the night, reached the Bastille, and climbed to the roof 
 unseen by any one. To be sure, some Parisians had 
 noticed the roof all red, but took it for the reflection of 
 the sunrise. 
 
 When Anglas was left alone, he hastened to open 
 the window. The ants poured in silently and noiselessly. 
 The mother ant formed them in rows, so that they could 
 work without interfering with each other, and gave the 
 word of command. 
 
 The young ants set to work with an alacrity seldom 
 seen, even in ants. 
 
 By noon they had the work half done; they rested 
 just long enough to eat, and went on with their work. 
 Long before six o'clock they were through. Quickly 
 and silently they left the room, climbed over the roof, 
 lodged in between the tiles, awaiting the dead of night 
 to cross Paris. 
 
 When the chamberlain came towards six o'clock to 
 fetch Anglas, he inquired of the young man how he was 
 getting along, adding : " I hope you are not discouraged." 
 
 " Not at all," replied the youth, " little cause for it, 
 since I am through." 
 
 "Through!" exclaimed the officer," through? No, 
 that can't be. Let me see." 
 
 They went in. The chamberlain was dumbfounded. 
 On one side was the heap of wheat, yellow and clean, as 
 if just from a pigeon's crop, and on the other side was 
 the sand.
 
 50 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 He hastened to inform the king and courtiers, who, 
 with faces as long as their sleeves, eyed one another 
 aghast. "With crest-fallen mien, they muttered between 
 their teeth: "How has he done this feat! Fifty men 
 could not have done it in a month, and this fellow 
 has done it in a day ! " The mystery was greater than 
 before. 
 
 Said the one who had devised the test: " It is noised 
 that this fellow is a wizard, and were I the king, I 
 would certainly not give him my daughter before knowing 
 more about him. All the courtiers said that the gentle 
 man was right, and had they a daughter, they would 
 hesitate to give her to him. 
 
 Anglas had meanwhile gone to his hotel to await the 
 king's decision. Racked by many conflicting emotions, 
 he scarcely slept that night. 
 
 Early in the morning, he came down stairs and met 
 the innkeeper, who said to him : " Young man, I see 
 you are very unhappy ; it is unfortunate for you that 
 you have no friends at court. After what you have 
 done, the king's daughter should be yours. Had you 
 been one of the courtier's sons, she would now be your 
 wife. I shall be much surprised if they do not invent 
 some pretext to cheat you out of your right yet. Jeal 
 ousy is cruel, and stoops to anything. Note what I say, 
 young man." 
 
 Anglas calmly, but manfully, replied : " I am here to 
 see it through."
 
 Young Anglas 51 
 
 At ten. o'clock the court met to deliberate and see what 
 should be done. Each courtier did his best to calumniate 
 the youth and to flatter the king ; but his majesty cut 
 their speeches short by saying: 
 
 " Gentlemen, so far I have followed your advice, now 
 hear what I have decided of my own account. 
 
 " I will choose twelve girls of the same size, same age, 
 and in looks as nearly like my daughter as possible. 
 They shall be dressed in white, and shall stand together 
 in my presence, yours, and the young man's. If he 
 guesses which one is my daughter, he shall have her for 
 his wife. Such is my good pleasure." 
 
 All the courtiers found the scheme excellent. They 
 perhaps did not think so, but, as servile flatterers, they 
 highly approved of it ; hoping secretly that they might 
 disconcert him by their presence, so that he would not 
 guess right. 
 
 The test was to take place on the next day at ten 
 o'clock, and rendezvous was given Anglas at the palace 
 of the king. 
 
 Our youth felt very uneasy on hearing this. Country 
 bred, as he was, the idea of court manners and court 
 society seemed very formidable. To stand in the pres 
 ence of the king, and handsome lords and ladies in full 
 dress, and to face the twelve young damsels, who would, 
 no doubt, think him very awkward, was no small ordeal. 
 So his heart was beating to breaking when he came into 
 the presence of the brilliant company.
 
 52 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 His embarrassment was somewhat relieved by the 
 king, who said: " My young friend, come near me, and 
 if within an hour you point out to me and my court the 
 one of the twelve young ladies who is my daughter, she 
 shall be your wife; I pledge you my kingly word." 
 
 Young Anglas made no reply, but was thinking that 
 his chances of guessing right were small, having never 
 seen the young princess before, when something tickled 
 his ear and a small voice whispered: 
 
 "Horseman, gentle horseman, you hurt neither me 
 nor my little flies; now I have come to render you a ser 
 vice. Watch me carefully. I will alight on the nose of 
 the king's daughter. She will brush me off with her fan. 
 Pay close attention." 
 
 With a flight she is on the nose of the princess. With 
 her fan the damsel brushes her off. She goes out by 
 the key-hole to get a breath of air, then flies to Anglas's 
 ear. 
 
 " Did you notice her?" said she ; " well, watch again." 
 
 Once more she is on the nose of her highness, once 
 more she is brushed off. She flies out of the room for a 
 while, and finally alights on the window-sill, passes her 
 fore feet over her head, and, with her hind feet, smooths 
 her wings, apparently joyous to be of use to the kind 
 young man. Then, for the third time, she tickles the 
 royal nose, and, for the third time, she is brushed off with 
 the fan. 
 
 Returning to Anglas, she inquired if he was sure of
 
 Young Anglas 53 
 
 picking out the princess. " Yes, yes; many thanks," said 
 Anglas. 
 
 " Well," said the king, " which do you say is my 
 daughter? The happiness of your life is in this 
 choice." 
 
 " If I choose aright may I kiss her hand?" 
 
 " Certainly, my boy," replied the king. 
 
 Anglas bowed, went straight to the king's daughter, 
 knelt before her, and printed a kiss upon her fingers. 
 
 Greatly surprised, the king exclaimed in a firm voice, 
 " Kiss her on both cheeks, she is your bride." 
 
 The young man accepted the privilege with perfect 
 composure. The princess, blushing, gave one of her 
 sweetest smiles, and the courtiers offered their warmest 
 congratulations. 
 
 The king bowed himself away, entered his private 
 apartment, and summoned Anglas before him. 
 
 "Tell me," said the king, "who are you, and rom 
 whence you come?" 
 
 Anglas, with a candor and frankness that pleased the 
 king, told his whole story. His majesty, glad to have 
 found such a wise and good man, gave orders to receive 
 Anglas at the palace at once, and for his father to be 
 summoned to Paris. 
 
 Proud and happy, the father came, rejoicing that his 
 advice had borne such fruit. 
 
 The king conferred the title of Marquis on Anglas the 
 day of the wedding, and gave him large estates, fine cas-
 
 54 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 ties, horses, and equipages in plenty. And this is how 
 Young Anglas became Marquis. 
 
 The cock crew, the story ended, and my father 
 remarked : 
 
 " Caou ten lou drg camin, caSu 6s bon, juste, ai'mable", 
 Caou fa'i pa tor a r6s, qu6s umen, charitable 1 , 
 S6 sus terra das om8s 6s pa re'coumpensa, 
 Lou boun D'iou lou surve"ia 6 1'abandouna pa." * 
 
 * Whosoever keeps the narrow path, is kind, just, and true ; wrongs no one, 
 is humane, charitable, if on this Earth he receives no reward, God who watches 
 over him will not forsake him.
 
 My Grandfather's Tour of France 5 5 
 
 WHEN bedtime came we retired, my father, sad 
 and thoughtful, I full of plans for the future, and 
 jubilant over the prospect of setting out next morning. 
 We were all up by daylight. My mother had prepared 
 all that I needed for my journey, linen, hat, shoes, 
 haversack, iron-shod stick, and sundry other useful arti 
 cles, while my father had provided me liberally with 
 money. I kissed them good-bye, and off I went. 
 
 This was on Monday morning; the weather was un- 
 propitious, a thick mist enveloped the house and trees, 
 but, withal, my heart was light, and I felt supremely 
 happy. 
 
 When I reached the two hills known as Lous Dous 
 Pio, I was met by two men of a neighboring village. 
 They addressed me very pleasantly, and with them I had 
 some instructive conversation. I learned for the first 
 time that off one's own line of thought one can learn a 
 great deal from even the humblest of men. These two 
 were charcoal-burners, on their way to Quian, to see some 
 standing wood for sale. 
 
 In the course of my talk with them I learned that to 
 prevent the denuding of forests, and to maintain the rain 
 fall about constant, the law prevents the cutting of more 
 than a twentieth of the woodland each year; so that the 
 second growth on the first cutting shall be nineteen years 
 old when the last twentieth is being removed.
 
 The China-Vender of Quissac 
 
 ABOUT three o'clock in the afternoon, we reached 
 the little town of Quissac, and found to our sur 
 prise, a great crowd gathered on the public square. 
 There seemed to be some unusual excitement; for as we 
 approached, we saw a woman jumping about like a 
 lunatic, and complaining loudly to the authorities of 
 some men who stood there laughing at her, and seeming 
 to enjoy the situation. 
 
 Once a week, in the little villages, there is a market 
 day. Merchants of all kinds go and spread out their 
 wares in the streets, and the peasants come to buy 
 their weekly provision. 
 
 It was market-day, and a china-vender had brought 
 a donkey-load of her wares, and spread them out on the 
 ground. She had a very good assortment. The women 
 gathered around her, and she was driving a brisk trade. 
 The donkey, tired from carrying the load, was eating 
 hay a few feet away. A group of good-for-nothing idlers 
 stood looking on, one finds them in a crowd the world 
 over, the loafers with more money than brains, and 
 the wag in their midst. These were smoking short-
 
 The China -Vender of Quissac 57 
 
 stemmed pipes, and swapping jokes, when the wag said 
 to the others : 
 
 " Would you like to have a laugh ? " 
 
 " Of course," replied they, " and what are you up to?" 
 
 " You will see ; " and speaking to the crockery woman : 
 
 " My good woman, if you will allow me to say two 
 words in your donkey's ear, I will give you twenty-four 
 sous," said he. 
 
 " What have you to tell my donkey " ? inquired the 
 crockery-vender. 
 
 " Oh ! not much ; but I am sure I will make him 
 happy. It will be no mystery; I shall speak loud enough 
 for all to hear." 
 
 " No, no ; I won't allow you to do it," replied the 
 vender. 
 
 " Why not?" retorted another one; " he is not going to 
 eat your donkey by speaking a few words in his ear, 
 and you will earn twenty-four sous; you had better let 
 him do it." 
 
 She very reluctantly gave her consent ; and the wag, 
 with his short-sternmed-pipe freshly lighted in his 
 mouth, approached the donke}% inserted the pipe in his 
 ear, and while saying: 
 
 " Te, do you know your sister is engaged, and you 
 will soon be at the wedding," he blew his pipe, and the 
 fire fell into the donkey's ear. 
 
 The beast jumped, shook its head, flapped its ears, 
 and trampled on the crockery ware. The vender was
 
 58 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 wild with rage. She shouted for help; she tore her hair 
 to see her plates and bowls all broken ; she called those 
 men all sorts of names. They split their sides with 
 laughter, while the wag coolly said to the good woman : 
 
 " Did n't I tell you so? He fairly jumped for joy; 
 probably he has never been at a wedding before ; that is 
 why it tickled him so." 
 
 When the commotion created by the donkey and its 
 owner had subsided, the crowd slowly dispersed. My 
 fellow-travelers and I, who had unexpectedly witnessed 
 the end of this village scene, separated. They looked for 
 lodgings at the little inn, while I went to the house of an 
 acquaintance of my father. 
 
 Made welcome by the gentleman and his family, I 
 spent the night at their house. 
 
 After supper, a neighbor dropped in for the evening, 
 or rather dragged himself in; for Master Rinaou was so 
 old, bowed and paralyzed that he had to lean on two 
 stout crutches and pull himself along, scraping the stone 
 floor with his sabots. Thus slowly and painfully he 
 hitched across the room to the wide arm-chair by the 
 fireside, threw himself into it all in a heap, hooked his 
 crutches to one arm, stretched out his lifeless limbs with 
 his hands and leaned back. Quite unconscious of the 
 company, he settled himself, sighed and broke out 
 loudly in self-contempt: 
 
 "Te paoure Meste Rinaou, te tombes aqui couma un 
 paou, ara leva te, mardienna, coutidienna."* 
 
 "There, poor Master Rinaou, down you fall like a log; now get up if you can.
 
 
 The China-Vender of Quissac 61 
 
 The children, however, soon drew him away from 
 himself, by asking for a story. 
 
 " Give a story, Meste Kinaou ; please do, Meste 
 Rinaou." 
 
 " What can poor Meste Rinaou tell you ? " said the old 
 man, with a shade of sadness. 
 
 " Give Meste Rege," said the oldest, a boy of ten. 
 
 " Yes, Mestd Rege, Mest6 Rege," chimed in the other 
 two. 
 
 " It is Meste Rege you want, Meste Rege and Moussu 
 Laouren," said Meste Rinaou; " well, listen."
 
 The Adventures of Meste Rege 
 
 MESTE Rege lived at Aiguemorte, a small town on 
 the Mediterranean coast, and his friend, Moussu 
 Laouren, lived in the little village of St. Laurent, an 
 hour's walk from Meste Rege's house. They used to 
 see each other once a year, when the summer work 
 was over, and, as the hay was in the barn, the grain 
 cut and threshed, the wine-grapes trampled, and the 
 wine in the casks, Meste Rege thought of taking some 
 rest and of visiting his friend, Moussu Laouren. Mest^ 
 Rege was in a very happy mood. His crops had 
 been unusually large, especially his wheat-crop. Thirt}^ 
 Camargues horses had trampled for three weeks his 
 threshing-floor. You know how they threshed wheat 
 in the Camargue. The clay floor is covered with 
 upright sheaves closely packed, in the middle stands 
 a strong post firmly anchored to a stone. To this 
 post the half-tamed broncos are tied with long ropes 
 and kept going at a lively pace by a driver with a 
 long lash. As they whirl around the post, they 
 trample over the sheaves, winding up the rope so that 
 the circuits become less and less. When the rope is
 
 The Adventures of Meste Rege 63 
 
 nearly wound up, the driver turns the post upside down, 
 the rope begins to unwind, the horses go in wider circles 
 until they again reach the edge of the threshing floor. 
 This process is repeated until the straw is evenly trodden 
 and the grain all threshed out. 
 
 Well, it was a very prosperous year for Meste Rege, 
 and, happy as he was, he did not hesitate long, and his 
 mind was soon made up to go and visit Moussu Laouren. 
 He donned his best suit, exchanged his sabots for a pair 
 of shoes, kissed his wife and children good-bye, took his 
 staff, and set out on his long journey. 
 
 By the wayside he knew of an eagle's nest. He had 
 the curiosity to get a peep at it, which is a most danger 
 ous thing to do, especially when the eaglets are yet in the 
 nest. He hesitated somewhat before going, but decided 
 to satisfy his curiosity and perhaps get a young eaglet 
 to present to his friend Moussu Laouren. He climbed 
 slowly and cautiously, fearing to find the mother-bird in 
 the nest. This, unfortunately for him, proved to be the 
 case; for as he approached the nest he saw the eagle 
 sitting on her young, to keep them warm, no doubt. 
 
 He would gladly have turned around without being 
 seen by the bird but she had seen him and came out of 
 her nest, left her young, jumped on poor Meste Rege, 
 fastened her beak onto the back of his neck, her talons 
 onto the seat of his breeches and carried him up in the 
 air. 
 
 Meste Rege thought himself lost; he prayed God to
 
 64 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 receive his soul. Meanwhile the eagle was soaring 
 higher and going toward the sea. When out upon the 
 Mediterranean, the bird said to herself: " Now I had 
 better drop him, I am far enough from the land, he can 
 not swim ashore, he will be drowned so he can never 
 trouble me again." So saying, she unfastened her talons 
 from Mest6 Rege's breeches and her beak from the back 
 of his neck; she dropped him and returned to her nest. 
 
 Poor Meste' Rege fell into the water from such a height 
 that he was stunned and lost consciousness. However 
 it was only for a little while, for he soon came to and 
 shouted for help. 
 
 Fortunately there was a boat quite near and the crew 
 hastened to see what the object was. To their great sur 
 prise the sailors saw that it was a man struggling in the 
 water. They took him into the boat and plied him with 
 questions. Meste Regs' related his adventures to the 
 sailors and they believed him at first, sailors are such a 
 credulous set, but soon a tremendous tempest arose 
 which threatened to engulf them all. But if sailors 
 are credulous they are also superstitious, and they 
 soon whispered amongst themselves that the cause of 
 the tempest was, no doubt, the man they had rescued 
 from drowning. 
 
 " God must be displeased with us," they said, " this 
 man is some evil being whom we should not have fished 
 out of the sea. Let us throw him to the mercy of the 
 waves and perhaps God will be appeased."
 
 -'**S~-: 

 
 The Adventures of Meste Rege 67 
 
 Poor Meste Rege, hearing their conversation, fell on 
 his knees and said to them: "My dear friends, I am a 
 man like yourselves, I am no evil being or supernatural 
 creature, I have told the truth regarding my whole 
 adventure and how you came to find me here." 
 
 But as the wind blew more and more, and the tempest 
 increased in violence, they refused to believe him; they 
 seized him and began to tie him hand and foot before 
 throwing him overboard. 
 
 Meste Rege seeing himself lost, and knowing that his 
 time had come, and that his end was near, said : " My 
 friends, you have here empty wine-casks; put me inside 
 of one and throw it overboard and perhaps some chari 
 table soul may find me and save me." 
 
 What he asked was granted ; they put him inside a 
 cask and threw him into the sea. 
 
 The sailors had not guessed right, however; the 
 tempest increased in fury, so that the vessel was nearly 
 swamped by huge waves falling repeatedly on deck. 
 
 As for Meste Rege, he was so much tossed in his cask, 
 and so much bruised against the sides, that he nearly 
 fainted from exhaustion and pain; although praying 
 all the while that God would send some charita 
 ble soul to his rescue. He was about to give up hope, 
 not knowing how far out he was, when suddenly the sea, 
 which throws up everything that floats on its surface, 
 by a great billow hove ashore the cask. 
 
 Oh ! said he ; I am no longer in the water. He placed
 
 68 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 his eye at the bunghole and looked out. Suddenly he 
 thought he heard the tramp of an animal and, fortu 
 nately, he was not mistaken. It was a cow looking for 
 some object against which to scratch her back. She 
 scratched and scratched ; the cask turned and turned, 
 Meste Rege with it. Bruised as he was, this second shak 
 ing suited him not, but it brought the cow's tail against 
 the bunghole ; quietly and skillfully he drew it in with 
 his finger, rolled it around his wrist, and held on to it 
 with both hands. As soon as the cow was through rub 
 bing and felt her tail held fast, she set out to run at her 
 best speed. Meste Reg^ was all the while holding on for 
 dear life, saying to himself. " Unless the tail comes off, 
 wherever she goes, I will go, also." 
 
 The cow ran, dragging the cask for at least an hour ; 
 then, being tired out, she took the road to her master's 
 barn. On entering the yard she turned the corner at such 
 speed that the cask struck the gate post and broke to 
 pieces. 
 
 Meste Rege, thus liberated, looked about him and 
 said: "Why, this is my own house! " Then he heard 
 cries and lamentations inside and, without waiting a 
 moment to take breath, he rapped at the door, saying: 
 " Open, please." The wife and children in tears, opened 
 the door and let him in. 
 
 All fell on his neck, even Moussu Laouren, who had 
 come to console them. Then he related his thrilling adven 
 tures; they all thanked God for his miraculous preserva-
 
 The Tour of France 69 
 
 tion, tears were dried, mourning was changed to joy, and 
 the happy reunion was celebrated by a feast which lasted 
 eight days. 
 
 When Meste Rinaou had done relating the story, the 
 children thanked him, bade him good night, and went 
 up stairs to bed, to dream, no doubt, of the wonderful 
 adventures of Meste Rege. Pretty soon Meste' Rinaou 
 bade us, also, good-bye. I inquired of my host the age 
 of Meste Rinaou. " He is ninety-five years old," said my 
 friend, " and it is a pity you cannot spend a few days with 
 us, and hear a few more stories from him; the old gen 
 tleman knows them by the dozen." 
 
 Early in the morning, after having partaken of a good 
 breakfast and thanked my kind friends, I proceeded on 
 my way. 
 
 The whole forenoon I traveled alone, noticing every 
 blade of grass and weed by the wayside, the trees and 
 birds. " Train your eyes to observe every object you 
 meet, listen to every proper conversation you hear," my 
 father had said to me, " and you will come back to us 
 filled with knowledge of things and men." 
 
 About noon, seven or eight men caught up with me. 
 They asked my name, where I was from, and where I 
 was bound for. I answered their questions, and the 
 whole band of us set to walking by twos. The man by 
 my side might have been fifty years old, and, knowing 
 that I was a stranger to that part of the country, he very 
 obligingly answered all my questions about the different
 
 70 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 villages we passed through and the objects of interest we 
 met. He also volunteered much information about the 
 lords and noted men of the country. I was so much 
 absorbed in what he was saying, that I did not notice 
 we were at the top of a hill. When suddenly he ex 
 claimed : 
 
 " Te! Do you see the castle on yonder eminence, sur 
 rounded by that park which slopes gently to the banks 
 of the stream? Well, that is the castle of La Ferriere, 
 for years the devil haunted it, and finally was driven off 
 by three powerful men." 
 
 My eyes were taking in the castle, which impressed 
 me as a princely residence, and the scenery about it 
 which could not be surpassed ; but, at the mention of the 
 devil, I turned towards my companion, and, seeing his 
 earnestness, I kept back the incredulous smile which was 
 already on my lips. I had never heard of the devil being 
 seen nor of his haunting any place, excepting the hearts 
 of men. My father was not superstitious, and had warned 
 me against such nonsense; but, unwilling to offend the 
 kind old man, I feigned astonishment, and said I had 
 never heard of the devil in a castle, nor of strong men 
 who could put him out, but I would like to know about 
 them. My companion asked for nothing better, and 
 said: 
 
 " I am surprised you never heard the story. Every 
 body in this country knows it as well as I do. It is pretty 
 long, but we have plenty of time."
 
 Cbe Storp of tbe 
 Cbree Strong len, 
 Crowbar, 
 fiookbcard, 
 and tbe
 
 Three Strong Men 
 
 IN the village of Vezenobre a good peasant took for a 
 wife a woman so stout and strong that she was known 
 in the village as Marion the Stout. This pair had a 
 twenty-four month baby, a most remarkable child, and 
 he became a great man. 
 
 At birth, he was like a three-year-old, with full set of 
 teeth, long hair, strong and shapely limbs, and a splendid 
 form. 
 
 At fifteen, he was as large as a man of thirty, and his 
 strength was marvelous for his age. He could lift with 
 one hand a sack of wheat, and he played with an anvil 
 as a toy. 
 
 At the age of twenty, he was as well-formed and as 
 strong as the Colossus of Rhodes. 
 
 His strength became proverbial in the country. All 
 wrestlers feared him; for none could withstand his 
 feats in the ring. With one hand he would seize his 
 opponent and hold him at arm's length for a long time, 
 then he would whirl him about his head until he cried 
 " King's truce! " when he would stretch him at full 
 length on the ground. There was not his equal in the 
 country.
 
 74 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 When he had attained to manhood, he started on a long 
 journey to visit the villages and towns of France. He 
 saw Lyons, Marseilles, Nimes, and was on his way to Bor 
 deaux, traveling on .foot, with a big axle-tree for a cane, 
 when he reached the little village of Fontanes. There 
 he took his dinner, visited an old castle belonging to the 
 Lieutenant-General of the King's army, and, at one 
 o'clock, he set out for the village of Lecques, which is 
 perched on a rock on the right bank of the River Le 
 Vidourle. 
 
 The owner of the castle of Fontanes was a powerful 
 lord, to whom the villagers owed obedience. He could 
 command them in season and out of season. Was his 
 woodyard empty, a word from his steward brought twenty 
 loads of wood; was his ice-house empty, the peasants 
 were set to work cutting ice on the river and packing it 
 for the summer use of his lordship. During seed-time, 
 they had to turn out with their teams, and plow, harrow, 
 and sow his lordship's broad acres. 
 
 When Crowbar reached Fontanes it was seed-time 
 and the peasants were at work sowing the grain in a large 
 field on a cross-road leading to Lecques. Some of the 
 peasants were ploughing, some harrowing, some sowing 
 the grain, some were singing, others swearing at their 
 teams or goading their oxen. Among them was a 
 ploughman with a gray mule as lazy as his master, and 
 following behind was his son, a lad of ten, cracking the 
 whip once in a while on the mule's back.
 
 Three Strong Men 75 
 
 Old Dumas, for that was the ploughman's name, was 
 singing in a tremulous voice with a Gallic accent: 
 
 I was sitting the oak boughs below, 
 
 I saw bustling toward me my love, 
 >T was Clarissa looking for her beau, 
 
 Took me for him, bounced into my lap. 
 
 (Interrupting himself). " Get up Falet ! hit him hard, 
 boy." 
 
 If you love me be not proud, 
 
 If you love me why so haughty? 
 Time is past to play at scorn, 
 
 When one's promised then 't is naughty. 
 
 " Get up, Falet; that hole won't swallow you up; get 
 up!" 
 
 Not far behind ploughed another big tall fellow with 
 a beard touching the ground. He was nicknamed 
 Hookbeard on account of his beard turning up at the 
 end. He was a man of extraordinary strength, for he 
 could lift almost any weight which one might tie to his 
 beard. 
 
 He was ploughing with a yoke of oxen and was sing 
 ing the song of the ploughman : 
 
 When the ploughman ends the furrow 
 Then he throws aside his ploughshare. 
 
 When the ploughman ends the furrow 
 Then he throws aside his ploughshare; 
 His ploughshare. 
 
 He finds his wife beside the fire, 
 
 Sad and inconsolable. 
 He finds his wife beside the fire, 
 
 Sad and inconsolable; 
 
 Sad and inconsolable.
 
 76 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 If you are sick, tell me, 
 
 I will make for you a pottage; 
 If you are sick, tell me, 
 
 I will make for you a pottage; 
 A pottage. 
 
 A pottage with a cabbage 
 
 And a lean sparrow. 
 A pottage with a cabbage 
 
 And a lean sparrow; 
 
 A lean sparrow. 
 
 If you are dead, say so, 
 We will bury you in the wine-vault. 
 
 If you are dead, say so, 
 We will bury you in the wine-vault; 
 In the wine-vault. 
 
 Your head under the faucet 
 
 To drink as it flows. 
 Your head under the faucet 
 
 To drink as it flows; 
 
 To drink as it flows. 
 
 As Crowbar appeared at the crossroad, Hookbeard 
 was at the end of the furrow. 
 
 "Well, neighbor, the plough must run easy since the 
 ploughman is singing," said Crowbar. 
 
 " Well," replied Hookbeard, " sometimes easy, and 
 sometimes hard ; but withal time flies. We are working 
 for the lord of the manor ; we receive no pay ; we need 
 not kill ourselves." 
 
 And from one thing to another the talk ran on. Crow 
 bar, meanwhile, was toying with his axle, as one would 
 with a cane. When about to start, he said, swinging his 
 axle as a pointer to show off his strength, " which road 
 goes to Lecques ? This one or that?"
 
 Three Strong Men 
 
 77 
 
 Hookbeard's face grew purple as a poppy, and seizing 
 the ploughbeam with one hand, he raised it from the 
 furrow, oxen and all, so that to Crowbar they seemed to 
 fly. He swung them in the air in the right direction* 
 and said: 
 
 " Take this road ; " and let them down easy in the fur 
 row again. 
 
 " "Why," said Crowbar, " I should say you have a pow 
 erful wrist, my good fellow. I have traveled extensively 
 and seen many strong men ; but I have yet to find your 
 equal. If you like," added he : " We will become part 
 ners, and together make the tour of France."
 
 78 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 " I am willing," replied Hookbeard ; " but I have no 
 money, and to travel one needs money." 
 
 " Do n't let that hinder you," said Crowbar, " I have 
 enough for both. Besides, we can earn some on the 
 way." 
 
 Hookbeard, without further parley, left his oxen in 
 the furrow, and arm-in-arm with Crowbar set out for 
 Lecques. 
 
 Lecques is built on a rock on the right bank of the 
 river Le Vidourle. 
 
 To reach the village the stream must be crossed by 
 ferry-boat. When the two men reached the left bank of 
 the river, the boat was on the other side, and no ferry 
 man in sight. They shouted and roared, but nobody 
 heard. It was the hottest part of the day, and no doubt 
 the Lecquars were all asleep. 
 
 " What shall we do ? " said Crowbar to his companion ; 
 "shall we wait here until somebody comes to the river "? 
 
 " Not much ! " exclaimed the other ; "just hang to my 
 whiskers, and you '11 be quickly over." 
 
 Crowbar put his axle under his arm, seized his 
 friend's beard with both hands, and with a swing and a 
 jerk, Hookbeard sent him flying over the stream. Crow 
 bar landed on his feet, went to the boat, unfastened it, 
 rowed across the river, and ferried over his friend. 
 
 After making the boat fast, they set out towards the 
 gristmill, below the village, in hope of finding somebody. 
 
 The miller had just dined, and to work off his dinner,
 
 Three Strong Men 81 
 
 was playing quoits with his millstones on the sand. 
 When Hookbeard and Crowbar saw the miller, they 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " Here is a man as strong as we ; let us invite him to 
 join us. All three together we could defy the world." 
 
 They approached, and politely complimented the 
 miller on his strength; and, by way of introduction, 
 they each picked up a millstone. 
 
 The miller delighted to find his equals, invited them 
 in, treated them to wine, and they talked of their ex 
 ploits, each making as big a story as possible. When 
 they had drunk and rested enough, Crowbar said to the 
 miller : 
 
 " I have traveled much, hoping to find men as strong 
 as I, but have seen none until to-day I met Hookbeard, 
 and he has consented to go with me. Why should you 
 not come too? We three should have nothing to fear. 
 Won't you come ? " 
 
 The miller was much attached to his mill, and asked 
 time to make up his mind. 
 
 " Stay until to-morrow with me," he said , " have a 
 good supper and a night's rest, then I will give you my 
 decision." 
 
 An expert at fishing, he soon caught fish enough for 
 supper, and the feast was spread, the best wine brought 
 out, and at the height of the feast the miller anticipated 
 his answer, and agreed to go with them. 
 
 Early next morning they took a bite to stay their
 
 82 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 stomachs, and were about to start on their journey, when 
 the miller said to his companions : 
 
 "I will take my millstones with me; when we have 
 nothing better to do, we can have a game of quoits." 
 
 " Quite right," both replied at once ; " take them 
 along." 
 
 The miller closed his mill, placed the key under the 
 door, took a millstone under each arm, and off they went. 
 
 They worked their way towards Montpelier, passed 
 La Fontade, climbed the hill of La Pefia, crossed the 
 woods of La Clause, reached St. Beauzeli, and wherever 
 they went they performed feats of strength. 
 
 People were surprised to see such powerful men, one 
 with a beard trailing the ground, another with an 
 immense axle-tree for a cane, and a third with millstones 
 in his pockets. Children swarmed about them, and fol 
 lowed them through the streets. 
 
 One evening at an inn they were telling of their 
 exploits to the villagers, exaggerating their performances 
 and boasting of their bravery. One of the listeners spoke 
 up, and said : 
 
 " If you Iiave the courage you claim, you ought to 
 render me a service." 
 
 " What is it ? " said the three, all at once. 
 
 " In the loft of my barn, at about two every morning, 
 something runs over the floor, and there is a noise like 
 the dragging of chains. My men pretend that a dragon 
 haunts the barn; they saw him one night, they say, and
 
 Three Strong Men 85 
 
 after nightfall they cannot be induced to enter the barn, 
 much less to sleep in the loft. If you would spend a 
 night there, find out the cause of alarm and, perhaps, 
 kill the dragon, then my men would attend to their 
 evening chores and sleep in the loft, as they used to do." 
 
 The trio replied they would be glad to do as much 
 for him and, proud of the occasion, they set out for the 
 barn. 
 
 Crowbar said : " There is no need of three ; give my 
 companions a room. I will stay alone in the barn, and 
 will call you if I need help." So the miller and Hook- 
 beard, who had not the courage of Crowbar, were glad 
 to sleep in the house. 
 
 When Crowbar was alone he examined every nook of 
 the loft, and the heaps of fodder upon the floor, to make 
 sure that nothing was hidden there. He looked out of 
 the windows, and found that one opened upon the vil 
 lage green, the other looked out upon a neighbor's yard, 
 and was only six feet from the ground, the barn being on 
 sloping ground. This window he could not fasten ; it 
 had been always left open for ventilation. Crowbar 
 threw himself upon the straw, but not to sleep. Hardly 
 had an hour passed when he heard a noise at the open 
 window. He raised on one elbow, and listened. The 
 sound approached, as if some creature was walking on 
 the boards with heavy nailed shoes or hard hoofs, he 
 could not tell which. At the same time there was the 
 clank, clank, of a chain dragged by jerks on the floor. It
 
 86 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 came still nearer, and Crowbar sprang towards it with a 
 shout. 
 
 " So, dragon, here you are, hey! Oust me from this 
 barn, if you can ! " 
 
 The object turned, and went tearing through the barn, 
 Crowbar after it. The chase began; the racket roused 
 the village, the two climbed the haymow, and leaped 
 from one stack to another ; they vaulted over each other, 
 and fell in a heap on the floor; they sprang up and 
 clattered like mad through the barn again. The noise 
 was terrific, it lasted twenty minutes. At last, by 
 mere luck, Crowbar stepped on the chain, stooping, he 
 quickly seized it, and, with a powerful jerk, he got the 
 creature within grasp. He laid firm hold of it with both 
 arms, muttering to himself: 
 
 " Dragon though ye be, down with ye! " and he flung 
 it out the window on to the village green. 
 
 The peasants, who were outside listening to the racket, 
 rushed in, and found Crowbar in a dripping sweat. 
 
 " I do not know what sort of beast it is," said he, " but 
 it has led me a chase, I can assure you." 
 
 " Let us see what it is," and they rushed out into the 
 square, and found, you cannot guess, a goat! A goat 
 burst asunder by the fall ! 
 
 And this is its story : The owner of the goat had no 
 fodder, so every night he let the goat loose. She, with a 
 bound, leaped into the neighbor's loft, by the open win 
 dow, and fed all night on the hay
 
 Three Strong Men 87 
 
 Evil-doers are often caught in their own traps. If the 
 man had not left the chain on the goat, to make the 
 frightful clatter, he might not have been betrayed. 
 
 Next morning, when the story spread abroad in the 
 village, everybody said that is just like him, shiftless 
 fellow ; that is one of his old tricks. And, from that day, 
 none of them would have anything to do with the unfor 
 tunate loser of the goat. 
 
 The owner of the barn, well pleased with the outcome 
 of the adventure, entertained the three strong men roy 
 ally. He gave a public feast in their honor, and, in the 
 presence of all the dignitaries of the village, he thanked 
 them for their services, and, from that time on, he kept 
 his barn-door and windows locked. 
 
 Meanwhile, the fame of the three strong men was ever 
 widening. 
 
 Farther up the mountain lived a rich gentleman in 
 an old castle. He had been a merchant, had amassed a 
 fortune in commerce, and wishing to retire with his 
 family, had bought the castle with large estates, and had 
 it repaired and fitted up to his taste. 
 
 On the first floor was drawing-room, boudoirs, din 
 ing-room, and kitchen. The sleeping-rooms of the 
 family were on the second floor, and the third floor was 
 given up to the servants. 
 
 Almost all the windows had gratings. The tower, or 
 ancient keep, on the western corner of the castle, was 
 left unrepaired, as it was not needed. The doors had
 
 88 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 the old rusty locks, and the windows were not fastened 
 at all, excepting in stormy weather. 
 
 On the second floor, between the master's room and 
 the tower, was a room daintily furnished and prepared 
 for the daughter when she should come home from her 
 convent. 
 
 At the castle nothing was lacking. There were car 
 riages of all sorts; equipages on equipages; servants on 
 servants; horses of all breeds, for the carriage and for 
 the saddle. Besides there were two immense New 
 Foundland dogs, named Sultan and Mustafa. Sultan 
 was fat and black, and Mustafa was lean and red. They 
 were tied by day and loosed by night. 
 
 When the merchant came to live on his domain early 
 in May, the country was beautiful to see. The trees 
 were in full bloom, and the meadows a magnificent green. 
 Half way up the Cevennes, they had the mountain air 
 first hand ; it was neither hot nor cold, and too far from 
 the marshes for mosquitoes. 
 
 The gentleman was all delight with his new posses 
 sions, and nothing was lacking but the presence of his 
 daughter. 
 
 So he looked forward to her vacation when she should 
 come and regain strength and spirits in the pleasures of 
 outdoor life at the castle. And you should have seen 
 the reception they gave her the day she came. 
 
 The whole household was on foot to receive her, but 
 none welcomed her more warmly than the old bonne
 
 Three Strong Men 89 
 
 Jeaneton, who had brought her up since her mother 
 died in childhood. Her first evening at the castle was 
 one of festivity. Joy and happiness were seen on all 
 faces. 
 
 Bedtime came, they all wished the young mistress 
 good night, and Jeaneton took her to her beautiful cham 
 ber, the furniture and appointments of which were fit 
 for a queen. The dogs were let loose, the doors closed, 
 the lights put out, and all about the castle was soon 
 silent and dark. The young Miss was soon asleep, so 
 were the others of the household. 
 
 About midnight the girl felt something pressing on 
 her feet. She thought she was dreaming. But no ; she 
 was not dreaming. Something heavy and warm was on 
 her feet. She heard it breathing. Fear seized her. 
 Had she cried, her father in the next room would have 
 come to her rescue. But no ; she kept still, covered her 
 head with the sheet, and stayed thus without stirring 
 the whole night. It was enough to frighten one to death, 
 but when one's time has not come, it takes more than 
 that to kill one. 
 
 A little before daybreak, she felt something rise, heard 
 it jump from the bed, and leave the room quietly. You 
 may well imagine how impatient she was for daylight 
 to come. 
 
 At breakfast she appeared pale, distracted, with black 
 rings under her eyes, telling the tale of a sleepless 
 night.
 
 90 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 " What is the matter with you, my child," inquired 
 her father, " have you not slept well ? " 
 
 She fell on his neck, and with tears in her eyes, told 
 him of her great fright. Her father, much surprised 
 and greatly pained, said to her : " My child do not 
 divulge this to any one, I shall find means to discover 
 the cause of your fright; and if 'the servants heard of 
 this not one of them would stay at the castle." 
 
 They kept it secret, and under a pretext, induced old 
 Jeaneton to occupy the room. The first night the old 
 nurse slept in the beautiful chamber, the master took 
 pulns himself to lock the doors and windows, and even 
 fastened the windows of the old tower. 
 
 The next morning father and daughter were dying to 
 know how she spent the night. 
 
 " Oh ! I slept as sound as a top," said she ; " why 
 should I not, in so fine a room and such a soft bed ? " 
 
 For some time the master attended to closing the 
 doors and windows himself; but, at length, as nothing 
 disturbed old Jeaneton, he grew careless, and left the 
 tower window open. 
 
 One early morning Jeaneton rushed into her young 
 mistress' room quaking with terror, and told her that a 
 strange animal had lain on her feet during the night ; she 
 had heard it breathing heavily, but it had left before 
 dawn, and she could not tell what it was. 
 
 The father was notified, and again, on account of the 
 servants, they all agreed to keep the affair secret.
 
 Three Strong Men 91 
 
 About this time the fame of the Three Strong Men 
 reached them, and the owner of the castle set out to 
 fetch them. He brought them to his house as guests. 
 Crowbar offered to occupy the room, but Hookbeard 
 insisted that it was his turn, pompously adding : " If die 
 I must, ready I am." So it was decided for him to have 
 the first chance at the beast. The servants were, to be 
 sure, surprised to see a man with such a beard about to 
 sleep in the dainty bed of the young mistress, but they 
 kept their comments to themselves. 
 
 Hookbeard spread himself out on the pretty bed, and 
 thought: 
 
 " Ghost or devil that haunts this room, I admire your 
 taste; you have not badly chosen your couch." 
 
 Wiser, however, than the nurse and her mistress, he 
 did not go to sleep. 
 
 At the moment of expectation, he heard a sound like 
 an animal moving in the room and scenting. He 
 stretched his hand, felt a cold nose, a head, a tongue that 
 licked his hand. 
 
 " If all the ghosts, devils, and dragons are no 
 worse than this one.," thought Hookbeard, "they are 
 not to be feared." And, patting the animal, they 
 became friends ; so much so, that they spent the night 
 together, the beast with its head in Hookbeard's 
 arms. 
 
 What a surprise to the master it was when he came 
 into the room in the morning to find the long-bearded
 
 92 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 fellow stretched out, and in his arms the head of the dog, 
 Mustafa. 
 
 Quickly he brought his daughter and Jeaneton to see 
 the devil of their midnight terror. 
 
 How could the dog have got in? 
 
 Leaning against the old tower, just below one of its 
 windows, was a low shed. At night, when the dogs were 
 let loose, Mustafa found nothing easier than to jump on 
 the roof of the shed, from thence through the tower 
 window, and from the tower into the young lady's 
 room. 
 
 It is not known whether Mustafa dreaded the night's 
 dew on account of rheumatism, but evidently he pre 
 ferred to sleep on a soft bed to spending his night under 
 the beautiful stars in the court. 
 
 Overjoyed, the owner of the castle complimented 
 Hookbeard for his bravery, gave the Three Strong Men 
 a handsome reward, entertained them two or three days, 
 and, on taking leave of them, said : 
 
 " I have a friend who lives not far from Alais, in the 
 castle of La Ferriere; I believe he needs you." 
 
 " Let us go at once," said the three ; " what can he 
 need us for ? " 
 
 " He will tell you," replied the gentleman ; " tell him 
 I have sent you." 
 
 Thereupon they set out, with paunches and pockets, 
 full, a jolly set of rovers. They walked for many days 
 and, finally, about ten o'clock in the morning of a fine
 
 Three Strong Men 93 
 
 October day, they reached the lodge of La Ferriere. 
 They sounded the knocker, and presented their request 
 to meet the master of the castle. The servant, in a great 
 state of alarm, rushed in upon the master while he was 
 shaving, with the news that three tremendous fellows, 
 the sight of which was enough to frighten any one, were 
 waiting in the office to see him. One carried an axle- 
 tree as a cane, another had a mill-stone in each coat 
 pocket, and the third wore a beard that touched the 
 ground and turned up at the end ; they were three verit 
 able Samsons. 
 
 " What do they want ? " said the Marquis. 
 
 " On my word I do not know ; they only asked to 
 speak with you." 
 
 " I will be down presently ; tell them to wait." One 
 moment later the Marquis entered his office and was 
 surprised, in spite of his warning, to see such powerful 
 looking fellows. 
 
 Our three men bowed respectfully, told of their 
 adventures at the castle in the Cevennes, and offered to 
 rid the Marquis of any beast or devil that might disturb 
 his peace. 
 
 " I will give you a great reward," replied the Mar 
 quis, " if you can rid me of an enemy that has long 
 damaged my place, and especially is the cause of 
 my wife and children remaining away from the 
 castle." 
 
 " I cannot keep a servant here except this old man
 
 94 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 who has positively refused to leave me in spite of the 
 evil reports." 
 
 " It is said in the neighborhood that the devil haunts 
 my castle and everybody keeps away from it." 
 
 " I do not know the cause, but, from time to time I 
 miss some chickens, rabbits, turkeys and geese; even 
 once I lost an ox. "We have searched again and again, 
 but without results. I have watched day and night and 
 never have seen a stray man or beast on the premises, 
 yet, when least expecting it, something is stolen. Some 
 of the servants have been badly beaten when alone; 
 taken unawares, struck from, behind, but even they have 
 never seen the enemy." 
 
 " This is why I can keep no one at my castle and they 
 say it is the devil's abode. Now, if you can find out 
 what all this means, you will render a great service to 
 me and the community." 
 
 " Be no longer uneasy," they said, " we shall unravel 
 the mystery and that right soon. Make us acquainted 
 with every nook of your castle, your garden, your park, 
 and then we will tell you how we intend to proceed." 
 
 The Marquis first invited them to dine. After dinner 
 he took them through the castle from cellar to garret and 
 over the garden and park even to a clump of trees be 
 yond the park. The Marquis meanwhile was giving 
 them all kinds of information, but the three said not a 
 word. Silently they surveyed the ground, scrutinized 
 the nooks and corners, peering into the shrubbery, rak-
 
 Three Strong Men 95 
 
 ing among the heaps of dead leaves and striking the 
 ground in search of pitfalls. 
 
 When the search was over they proposed to the Mar 
 quis that they be left alone in charge of the castle to 
 follow their own line of action. The Marquis agreed 
 and accordingly prepared to leave the estate in their 
 charge with abundant supplies at their disposal, and he 
 and the old servant left next morning. 
 
 Crowbar and his friends took a walk in the afternoon, 
 looked about everywhere, but saw nothing suspicious. 
 The following day they laid a plan to station themselves 
 as spies to watch every avenue leading to the castle and 
 they watched all day in vain. The next day was the 
 same without results. This was growing monotonous; 
 they became bolder and said : " The devil must be afraid 
 of us; he dares not show himself. This will turn out 
 like other devil stories; the fox has eaten the hens, the 
 wolf eaten the ox you will see nevertheless if it be 
 the devil let him show himself, we will fix him." 
 
 Thus, tired of suspense, they decided that two of them 
 should go hunting and the third should keep watch on 
 the premises, just to be on the safe side, not that they 
 expected to see anything or anybody. 
 
 This time the miller said : " It is my turn; I will stay 
 and if the devil comes, I will make a pancake of him 
 with my millstones." 
 
 " Remain," said the other two ; " each one his turn, 
 nothing is more just." Crowbar and Hookbeard started
 
 96 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 for the chase at day-break, their guns on their shoulders 
 like true poachers. They went through the park, passed 
 by the clump of trees, crossed a small stream and went 
 on to the mountains. They were in luck, they killed 
 much game and returned with their bags full. 
 
 As soon as his companions were gone, the miller 
 placed himself on the watch but as before saw nothing. 
 Then he set about preparing dinner for his friends 
 What he cooked for the meal I do not remember, per 
 haps they never told me or I may have forgotten it, but 
 that can be of no great consequence. 
 
 About eleven o'clock he set the table and had things 
 ready so as not to keep them waiting on their return, 
 then he sat down before the door saying to himself: "As 
 soon as I see them coming I will pour out the pottage." 
 He waited a long while, his comrades did not show up; 
 it was very hot; sleep overtook him and he fell nodding. 
 
 The devil, who was lurking unseen, stealthily ap 
 proached the table, took the tablecloth by the four 
 corners with all its contents, spoons, forks, dishes, bottles, 
 glasses, etc., clubbed the miller on his way out and left 
 him senseless. 
 
 A little while after, the hunters came, and what did 
 they see? 
 
 The poor miller stretched on the ground, his face all 
 bloody, more dead than alive. Quickly they fetched 
 some vinegar, made him smell it, washed his face with 
 it, and made him drink a glass of Riquiqui, placed him
 
 Three Strong Men 97 
 
 in an arm-chair, rubbed him with Eau Sedative, and, 
 little by little, he came to, but he could not tell what had 
 happened. He had neither heard nor seen anything, so 
 that the trio were none the wiser for the miller's mishap. 
 For some time, however, they redoubled their vigils, but 
 with no luck. 
 
 Meanwhile, the miller recovered, and, when himself 
 again, Hookbeard broke out one evening at table with 
 "Well, friends, go hunting to-morrow. I shall stay 
 here. We must find out what all this means. I will try 
 my best not to be surprised; and, if I can only see him, 
 whether man, beast, or devil, he won't leave this place 
 scot free." 
 
 The next day the miller and Crowbar went hunting, 
 promising to return early. 
 
 Hookbeard made all his preparations, killed a fowl 
 for a roast, made an omelette for entremet, a rabbit stew 
 for entree, a puree of peas for pottage, and fritters of 
 squash for dessert. He set the table early ; then he 
 walked about the room, with his hands behind him and 
 with a look of satisfaction and scorn upon his face, as if 
 nothing could happen to him. He paced the room for 
 one hour, for two hours; finally got tired, and, to his 
 misfortune, sat down. 
 
 Sleep is so treacherous that it overcame him. No 
 sooner had he closed his eyes and begun to nod, than he 
 was clubbed on the head, and so completely stunned that 
 he gave no signs of life when his two friends came. They
 
 98 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 thought him dead, but did all they could to revive him, 
 and at last succeeded. 
 
 He was a long time recovering. It took the good care 
 of his two comrades, a long rest, and good food to restore 
 him to health. 
 
 When Hookbeard was on his feet again, Crowbar 
 said : 
 
 " My friends, both of you have had your thrashing. 
 We cannot leave here without my getting one. If I have 
 to leave rny skin in the attempt, I must know who is 
 haunting this place. To-morrow leave me alone in the 
 castle and go hunting." 
 
 They obeyed ; but before setting out Hookbeard said 
 to Crowbar : 
 
 " Don't go to sleep; don't sit down. Sleep is a rascal 
 which overcomes the most wary. If you are caught nap 
 ping, as the miller and I have been, you run the risk of 
 getting a drubbing you will never forget." 
 
 " Thanks," replied Crowbar; " I will do my best to 
 keep awake." 
 
 When alone, he set out to get dinner. It was not at 
 all elaborate, and was soon ready. Before ten o'clock his 
 table was set, and he was pacing the floor, as Hookbeard 
 had done. Then he sat down; soon his head was 
 bobbing up and down, falling from one shoulder to the 
 other, as if fast asleep. Through his half-closed eyes, 
 however, he was watching the room and the park. 
 
 Pretty soon he spied in the garden something black,
 
 Three Strong Men 101 
 
 which seemed to be moving behind the trees. Nodding 
 all the more, as if fast asleep, Crowbar saw the black 
 object advancing cautiously from tree to tree, and bush 
 to bush, but so quick in its movements that he could 
 hardly make out its shape ; its general appearance was 
 like this : 
 
 A black body, flat face, large, round, yellowish eyes, 
 which shone like a cat's in the dark, two horns, short and 
 sharp, a long tail, curled up to its shoulders, thin legs, 
 and long hands, with fingers like a griffin's, and it was 
 not more than three feet high. 
 
 Crowbar understood that it was the very devil that 
 was the fear of the neighborhood. 
 
 Before he sat down he had been careful to place his 
 axle-tree within reach. Thus prepared, he awaited the 
 approach. 
 
 The devil, no doubt, believed him asleep, approached 
 noiselessly, entered the room, went to the table, and 
 reached for the table-cloth. Crowbar sprang to his feet, 
 and struck at him. The devil, ever on the alert, had 
 seen Crowbar's motion, and turned to leap out of the 
 window. It was lucky for him that he turned round 
 when he did. He was too far to be hit on the head, but 
 received a blow between the shoulders from Crowbar's 
 axle-tree, that sent him sprawling in the yard. 
 
 Nimbly he turned a somersault, was on his feet in a 
 flash, and made for the park. Crowbar gave chase. 
 The devil fairly flew, with Crowbar close behind. They
 
 IO2 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 ran from alley to alley, from avenue to avenue; they 
 went through the park, and round and round it. No 
 doubt, the devil, seeing his pursuer to be such a big 
 fellow, thought to tire him out, leave him behind, 
 find his hole, and disappear; but Crowbar gained on 
 him, and struck him several times between the shoulder- 
 blades with his axle-tree; so the devil thought best to 
 seek his hole, even at the risk of revealing his hiding, 
 place. 
 
 Running then to the clump of trees, under a wild 
 laurel, he lifted a large, flat stone, and disappeared from 
 under the very nose of Crowbar, at the very moment he 
 thought he had him. 
 
 Crowbar examined the hole, replaced the stone, put 
 his cane over it to hold it down, and returned to the 
 castle, sweating like a leper, from his run. 
 
 The hunters were already there. As they did not see 
 him, they said he must be dead. 
 
 " Indeed," said the miller, " the devil struck me once; 
 you got a first-rate thrashing; no doubt, he has killed 
 Crowbar." 
 
 They feigned the greatest distress; they rang all the 
 bells ; they called ; they searched every nook in the castle 
 no one. 
 
 Hookbeard was thoughtful and silent. The miller, 
 who seemed the most eager to hunt him up, was saying 
 to himself: 
 
 " He got his thrashing like us. He will know now what
 
 Three Strong Men 103 
 
 the devil is like. He was telling us that we should leave 
 our skins rather than get away from here without un 
 raveling this mystery. Well, if the devil has skinned 
 him, so much the worse for him. At any rate, he will 
 no longer poke fun at us." 
 
 Just as he was saying this to himself, Crowbar arrived, 
 mopping his brow with his handkerchief, and said to 
 them: 
 
 " I made it hot for him. He escaped me by a miracle. 
 I watched him coming until he reached the table, and, 
 had he not turned round and jumped, I should have 
 killed him on the spot. As it was, I gave him a hot 
 chase, but he made me run, I tell you ! Do you know 
 where he went down? Well, I will show you." 
 
 And he related to them how it all had happened, how 
 he had feigned sleep, had spied him behind a tree, what 
 his size was, how his head and eyes looked, his horns, his 
 legs and hands, and all about him. He took them to the 
 clump of trees, removed the axle-tree and the stone; they 
 decided to go down the hole, with the help of. pulleys 
 and ropes, find the devil's hiding-place, and settle him 
 for good. 
 
 The day following, they fixed a windlass at the open 
 ing of the cave. They bought three or four miles of rope, 
 and made all kinds of preparations to carry out their 
 scheme. This busied them all day, and, as prudence 
 required them to make the descent by daylight, they 
 postponed operations until the next day.
 
 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 In the evening, at table, the miller, jealous of Crow 
 bar's achievement, and coveting the honor of killing the 
 devil, said that he would go down first; that he would 
 do this and that; he would smash the devil to a pan 
 cake with one blow of his millstones. 
 
 " We cannot all go at once," said the other two. " If 
 you wish to go first, we give you the precedence." 
 
 At early dawn the next day, the trio went to the 
 hole. Tying a strong basket to the rope, the miller sat 
 in it, with millstones in his pockets, and gave the signal 
 to be lowered. 
 
 Crowbar and Hookbeard began to unwind the rope, 
 and the miller was lowered into the hole. 
 
 So long as he looked up and saw the light, all 
 went well, but when he looked down he became dizzy. 
 Besides, you know that a rope will get all twisted 
 in winding up, and when unwound, the weight at 
 tached to it will whirl and whirl. This is precisely 
 what happened when the miller sat in the basket. 
 His weight held the rope taut, and the twists gave 
 the basket a whirling motion. The deeper he went 
 the faster turned the rope. He held to the rope 
 with all his might, but the whirling made him sick, 
 and he was in a sad plight. At last, getting scared, 
 he said to himself: 
 
 "How stupid men are at times! For a little honor, 
 why should I leave my bones in this hole? Let the 
 devil go to the deuce ! If the other two want to die, let
 
 Three Strong Men 105 
 
 them die ! " And, gathering all his strength in his voice, 
 he shouted : " Pull me up ! Pull me up ! " 
 
 He was pulled up. When he reached the opening 
 his face was like wax. They quickly gave him a drop 
 to settle his stomach. Then Hookbeard said, coolly : 
 
 " You got scared, miller. I'll take your place, and I 
 believe I shall have a little more courage." 
 
 And he sat in the basket. The miller said to him : 
 
 " You should take a stick, or something, to defend 
 yourself; you go with your arms hanging, as if you were 
 going to a fete. You don't know what awaits you." 
 
 Hookbeard replied : " I don't need anything. Let 
 me put my paws on him, and he is done for. I will split 
 him in two, as I would an acorn." 
 
 While saying this, his face grew purple with anger, 
 and his eyes shot fire, and his hands were clinched, as if 
 he meant what he said. Whether he was angry with 
 the miller for coming up is not certain, but he was 
 awfully agitated. 
 
 Finally the windlass began turning, and he was 
 slowly lowered into the hole. 
 
 No doubt the temperature below was cooler than above 
 ground. So, little by little, Hookbeard's blood cooled and 
 his fury calmed, for he soon felt chills creeping over him; 
 his feet grew cold, and he was in need of a cordial to 
 keep up his courage. He had already gone deeper than 
 the miller, when an idea struck him. 
 
 " If we should build a wall over the hole," thought
 
 106 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 he, " the devil could not come out again, and without 
 any risk we should win our reward. Let me suggest 
 this to niy companions," and with two powerful lungs 
 he shouted: " Pull me up ! Pull me up ! " 
 
 They pulled him up. The miller longed to tease 
 him, and was glad he had been no braver than he. As 
 soon as Hookbeard showed his head he began : 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! You thought I was scared ! And you 
 what have you had? A fright, I suppose. Why did 
 you turn round?" 
 
 " I afraid?" roared Hookbeard; "I afraid? You do 
 not know me. An idea struck me, and I wished to make 
 you share it ; but I am ready to go down again." 
 
 " "What is your idea ? " asked Crowbar. 
 
 " See," replied Hookbeard, " if we should build a vault 
 a little way down the hole, and pile in stones to the level 
 of the ground, the devil could not get out, and without 
 much trouble and no risk, we should have earned our 
 reward." 
 
 " Right you are," said the miller. " Let us do it; let 
 us do it ! " 
 
 "No!" retorted Crowbar; "you would make fun of 
 me, and if it be only to go a little farther than Hook- 
 beard, I will try it." 
 
 So saying, he removed the basket, tied his axle to the 
 rope, sat astride it, and gave the word to be lowered. 
 
 In his turn, Crowbar was turning in space. Cool as a 
 cucumber, however, he lighted his pipe, and, when too
 
 Three Strong Men 107 
 
 far down to see, lie took a candle from his pocket, lighted 
 it, and went still lower. 
 
 His companions knew by the rope that he had gone 
 lower than they, and they expected to hear at any 
 moment his shout to be hoisted up. 
 
 But no, nothing; the more rope they gave the deeper 
 he went. Finally, when the rope was about all spent, 
 they heard that he had reached bottom. 
 
 Crowbar untied his cane, and by his candle-light saw 
 that he was far from being out of the cave. He walked 
 and walked, not knowing whether he was under the Alps, 
 or the Pyrennees, in Tyrol, or Andalusia. When he saw 
 daylight, he found himself in a magnificent lodge, built 
 of the fine stones of La Clote, in all the perfection of 
 high art. 
 
 Surprised, he said to himself: " This surely cannot 
 be the devil's abode, it is too fine." 
 
 He went out, and found himself on the edge of a 
 splendid park, in a beautiful country. There were large 
 meadows, watered by canals of pure water; there were 
 fine avenues and stately trees, and far in the park he 
 could see a lordly castle. 
 
 More and more surprised, he advanced, cane in hand, 
 seeing no one, but seen of the devil, whose sharp eyes 
 saw from afar. 
 
 Sneaking to his castle, chattering : " Oh, the scoun 
 drel! here he is! My gracious, I am lost!" the devil 
 shut himself in his room, shaking like an aspen-leaf.
 
 io8 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 His back still hurt him from the blow received two days 
 before from Crowbar's cane. 
 
 Crowbar went on to the castle, trusting in his strength, 
 but keeping a sharp lookout, for he knew the devil to be 
 treacherous. He reached the gate and knocked no one 
 appeared ; he walked to the entrance door, and pulled the 
 knocker no one came. He then opened the door, and 
 found himself in a large room sumptuously furnished. 
 Finding nobody there, he opened another door, and 
 found himself in the presence of a young and charming 
 lady, to whom he made a most profound bow. 
 
 She motioned him to keep still, and pointed to 
 another door, letting him understand that there was the 
 devil's room. 
 
 Quick as a flash, Crowbar, with a blow from his cane, 
 broke the door open and made a rush for the devil, 
 who, nimble as a cat, leaped from the window. Crow 
 bar jumped after him, and then took place on the grounds 
 the liveliest race ever seen. 
 
 Every time the devil got within reach, Crowbar prod 
 ded him with his cane, but at every blow the devil 
 increased his gait. They chased each other for more 
 than two hours. At last, Crowbar gaining on the devil, 
 lifted his cane to strike a deadly blow. With a supreme 
 effort, the cane came down, but not on the devil. He 
 had dodged the blow at the turning of an alley, and 
 sprang for the cane, that had fallen from Crowbar's 
 hand in the exertion. Just as he was about to grasp it,
 
 Three Strong Men 1 1 1 
 
 Crowbar leaped on him, and a hand-to-hand fight took 
 place. 
 
 Oh! that was a desperate struggle terrific and 
 horrible to see! The devil shrieked and howled; he 
 scratched and bit ; while Crowbar, dumb and purple in 
 the face, gave telling blows with his fists. He could not 
 strike the devil's head, because of the horns, and he 
 could not grab his body, because it was so sleek and slimy. 
 At last the devil's strength gave out. Crowbar seized him 
 by the throat, threw him on his back, put a knee on his 
 breast, and, with the cane in his right hand, gave him 
 a blow between the horns that split his head in two. 
 But he died hard. His head was split open, yet he was 
 struggling, whipping the ground with his tail, and foam 
 ing at the mouth. When at last he was still, Crowbar 
 returned to the castle to see to the young lady, whose 
 presence in such a place had so much puzzled him. 
 
 She had been the sole witness of the grand fight, and 
 a most interested spectator, for she understood that in 
 Crowbar, if victorious, she would find a deliverer. 
 
 So soon as Crowbar appeared in the yard, she has 
 tened to meet him, took him by the hands, and said to 
 him: 
 
 " No doubt my father sent you to my rescue. Who 
 are you, and whence are you come ? How have you 
 found your way to this spot ? 
 
 " I have been here for the last three years. How I got 
 here I do not know. I am the king's daughter. I was
 
 ii2 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 stolen by that scoundrel you have killed. One day, 
 when I was with my governess on the banks of La Loire, 
 he showed himself suddenly to me, and my fright was 
 so great that I fainted, and when I came to myself again 
 I was in this palace, alone with the arch-fiend. For the 
 last three years he has persecuted me to marry him. 
 
 " I cannot tell you all I have suffered, although he 
 was invariably kind and considerate. He gave me all 
 his fancy suggested. 
 
 " The villain was always at home nights, but early in 
 the morning he would depart, to be gone all day, and 
 return loaded with plunder in the evening. 
 
 " You have no idea of all this castle contains of stolen 
 goods. I will visit the different rooms with you. But 
 first tell me who you are, whence you come, and whether 
 you can deliver me from my prison." 
 
 Crowbar briefly told his story, and then, in company 
 with the young princess, visited the castle. 
 
 The long corridors were filled with sculpture and 
 paintings, the ceilings were frescoed, the rooms had most 
 magnificent hangings and were furnished with rare and 
 costly furniture. The cellars were full of boxes of all 
 sizes and dimensions, which being opened were found to 
 contain crown jewels and diamonds, silver and gold. 
 Some boxes were full of stolen watches, others held 
 silver spoons and forks, and still others contained 
 precious stones. 
 
 The yards about the castle were supplied with fowls
 
 Three Strong Men 113 
 
 of all kinds, cattle and horses of every breed filled his 
 stables, deer stalked about the park, and pheasants were 
 plenty in the preserve. 
 
 When. Crowbar had seen everything with his fair 
 guide, he took her to the entrance to the hole through 
 which he had come down, and calling to the miller and 
 Hookbeard, told them to make ready to receive the 
 king's daughter, whom the devil had carried to this 
 lair. 
 
 The rope was promptly lowered, an arm-chair, which 
 Crowbar fetched, made fast to it, and the princess sat 
 therein. He securely tied her about the waist, to pre 
 vent her falling, and gave the order to hoist her up. 
 
 Crowbar staid near until he was sure she had safely 
 reached the top; then he went to fetch all the boxes of 
 jewels and silver and gold. 
 
 Hookbeard and the miller received the young lady 
 with all the respect due to her rank. They took her to 
 the castle of La Ferriere, gave her the best room they 
 found, and sent her next day posthaste to her father, the 
 King of France. They then returned to the hole to hear 
 further from Crowbar. 
 
 When the princess reached Paris, the king and cour 
 tiers, apprised by courier of the miraculous deliverance, 
 went to escort her into the capital. The meeting between 
 the king and his daughter was very affecting. They fell 
 on each other's necks and wept for joy; the whole court, 
 out of sympathy, did likewise.
 
 ii4 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 The first emotion over, the king, full of gratitude 
 toward his daughter's rescuer, remembered his promise 
 made soon after her disappearance. 
 
 It should be said that some three years before the 
 young princess was promenading on the banks of the 
 Loire. She dismissed her attendant with the order to 
 come for her at sundown. When the maid came the 
 princess was nowhere to be found. They searched the 
 woods near by, they dragged the river, they scoured 
 the whole country round and made inquiries far 
 and near, but found no trace of her. She had vanished 
 from sight, and nobody could account for her disap 
 pearance. 
 
 It was then that, in despair, the king issued a procla 
 mation that gave his daughter in marriage to any man 
 who should bring her back. 
 
 Hookbeard was the first to hear that the king's 
 daughter was to be the wife of her rescuer. 
 
 Good-natured and generous, he said to himself: 
 " What a good thing for Crowbar! " and already became 
 jubilant at the thought of the grand wedding to which 
 he would be invited. 
 
 The miller, on the other hand, was jealous and grasp 
 ing, he said to himself: " Why, I would not refuse her 
 for my wife ! If I had not been so afraid, and had gone 
 down the hole, she would now be my bride." 
 
 However, each kept his thoughts to himself and both 
 worked away hoisting the boxes which were filled with
 
 Three Strong Men 117 
 
 diamonds, pearls, rings and bracelets, all sorts of jewels, 
 and plenty of gold and silver. 
 
 On seeing this heap of riches at his feet, the 
 miller lost his head, and ventured to say to Hook- 
 beard : 
 
 " Now then, for whom have we been working all this 
 time? For Crowbar, no doubt. He very likely will 
 take all this, marry the king's daughter, and we poor 
 fellows, who have helped so much, will get left. If you '11 
 believe me, we will scoop this pile of riches, pull up the 
 rope, and make off." 
 
 Hookbeard, kind-hearted but weak, yielded to the 
 miller's reasons. Indeed, the sight of so much gold was 
 enough to lead any man astray. So when Crowbar hal 
 looed, " Hoist me up ! There is nothing more to haul 
 up," the miller and Hookbeard removed the windlass, 
 threw the rope in a stream near by, took with them all 
 the treasures, and decamped. 
 
 Happily for Crowbar they did not think to cover up 
 the hole, or he would surely have been lost. 
 
 In vain did Crowbar call, shout, halloo nobody re 
 plied. He soon guessed the cause of that silence on 
 the part of his friends, and being somewhat of a phil 
 osopher, he thought in this wise: 
 
 " How mean is human nature! God must have used 
 very dirty clay when He made man. The proverb says 
 that everything God does He does well. Without doubt 
 ing the truth of the proverb, it seems to me had He used
 
 n8 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 cleaner clay in the making, men would be better than 
 they are." 
 
 Not being easily disheartened, Crowbar returned to 
 the castle, saying to himself : 
 
 " We shall see later; sometimes the wicked are caught 
 in their own traps." 
 
 We have already seen that the king, soon after recov 
 ering his daughter, remembered his promise to give her 
 to her rescuer; but as he was a kind father, and very 
 considerate of his daughter's feelings, he spoke to her in 
 this wise: 
 
 " In my great despair, and hoping that the offer of 
 your hand to the man who should bring you back might 
 cause my subjects to diligently search for you, I made 
 that promise, and pledged my royal word. Now, I 
 should be very sorry to impose on you a husband who 
 should not be to your liking. Tell me if your rescuer 
 would be acceptable to you, and if I may renew my royal 
 pledge." 
 
 "Perfectly acceptable," answered the princess; and 
 thereupon she related to the king all that which took 
 place in the devil's lair, her meeting with Crowbar, his 
 kindness to her, the way he had sent her up the hole, 
 and she added: " I am sure he will please you. He is 
 tall, well-proportioned, handsome, as strong as ten men, 
 and exceedingly kind." 
 
 Then the king replied : " Let us await his coming." 
 
 And they waited one, two, five months a year, two
 
 Three Strong Men 119 
 
 years, and Crowbar not appearing, the king and his 
 daughter were in despair. What had happened to him? 
 They could not imagine. They tried to hunt up the 
 miller and Hookbeard, but they were not to be found. 
 Whether they bad gone to Brussels, St. Petersburg, Egypt, 
 or India, nobody knew. 
 
 All this time Crowbar was planning a way of escape 
 from his prison. 
 
 Alone in the devil's domain, he roamed through the 
 garden, the park, the woods, the meadows, to find a road 
 leading out of the solitary place. On all sides he found 
 perpendicular walls which no one could think of scaling. 
 Another man would have been discouraged not Crow 
 bar. He kept saying to himself: "We shall see; we 
 shall see." 
 
 One morning, as he lay awake in his bed, the thought 
 came to him that an eagle might perhaps help him out 
 of his predicament. In truth, an eagle was strong enough 
 to bear him up, if it could only be made to do it. He 
 had seen an eagle's nest a day or two before, and 
 he had thought : " If I can tame the mother, I may 
 train the eaglets to do my bidding." So every day he 
 brought meat and put it near the nest. Soon eagle and 
 eaglets were tame enough to eat off his hand. When 
 large enough to leave the nest, the eaglets would follow 
 him around like puppies. As they grew larger they 
 played with him like children. They played hide-and- 
 seek; they climbed on his back; they perched on his
 
 120 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 shoulders. All the time he fed them the pick of the 
 poultry-yard. Eaglets became eagles, and he tried to 
 teach them to fly with him on their backs; but so strong 
 and heavy was Crowbar, it took two years before one 
 of them could fly any distance with him on its back. 
 
 Satisfied at last that the strongest of the lot could 
 sustain his weight for a long flight, he took the bird to 
 the mouth of the hole and, pointing upward, said to the 
 eagle : " Take me up there." And sitting astride on the 
 eagle's wings, they began to ascend. To mount in a 
 straight line being impossible, the eagle whirled round 
 and round the hole until it reached the top. Both 
 rested a while, and then Crowbar caressed the eagle, 
 bade it good-by, and left it to return at leisure. 
 
 Crowbar's first inquiry was for his comrades and for 
 the young lady. 
 
 He learned that she had gone to Paris, and resided 
 with her father, the king. As for Hookbeard and the 
 miller, they were gone no one knew where. His anxiety 
 was for the lady, however, since it occurred to him that, 
 to hide their conduct, his two companions might have 
 killed her. 
 
 Feeling relieved as to her fate, he took a fast horse to 
 Paris, expecting that the king would pay him hand 
 somely for rescuing his daughter. He was not posted 
 as to the king's intentions towards him, and was far 
 from expecting what awaited him in Paris. 
 
 Ah ! as soon as he presented himself at the palace,
 
 Three Strong Men 121 
 
 he saw the young princess running down the stairs to 
 greet him. He, somewhat abashed, bowed two or three 
 times, hesitating to enter the palace; but she took 
 him by the hand and led him to her father. 
 
 It is needless to describe the reception the king gave 
 him, or the brave man's joy on learning that he was to 
 be the husband of the princess, nor the grand wedding 
 repast given on the marriage day. 
 
 As to Hookbeard and the miller, on leaving France, 
 they sold their jewels and precious stones, and deposited 
 the money in a bank. For a while they lived like 
 princes; but one day the bank failed, all depositors lost 
 their money, and the miller and Hookbeard had to beg 
 for a living. They led a miserable existence, sleeping 
 outdoors or in barns in all kinds of weather. This 
 was the harder to bear after their experience of luxury: 
 so one night, as they were out under a tree during a 
 storm, Hookbeard said to the miller : 
 
 " We were very wrong to act as we did towards Crow 
 bar; we could have lived just as well on a little less, if 
 we had not have taken the plunder from the devil's lair, 
 and now we should have a friend in Crowbar, who 
 they say, got out of the hole, married the king's daugh 
 ter, and is now a powerful prince. Now, who dares to 
 go and see him and ask for his help? " 
 
 The miller hung his head and made no reply. He 
 felt the more guilty of the two, for it was he who had 
 won over Hookbeard to his plan of abandoning Crowbar.
 
 122 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 Nothing further was said that night, and for some time 
 they roughed it as best they could. At last, they could 
 endure that life no longer, and decided to go in search 
 of Crowbar. They would beg his pardon on their knees, 
 and perhaps in his kindness of heart he would forgive 
 them and render some assistance. 
 
 Having taken that resolution, they set out for the 
 king's palace. On reaching it they inquired for Crow 
 bar. He came to meet them, and was greatly surprised 
 to see their poverty. His first impulse was to forgive 
 them and treat them kindly; but the king, who knew 
 of their doings, forbade him to receive them, and ordered 
 them thrown into prison, and there they ended their 
 days. 
 
 Crowbar, meanwhile, had become a powerful prince, 
 and was much beloved by the king. He reared a large 
 family of children, and finally died in peace and plenty 
 surrounded by many friends. 
 
 The castle of La Ferriere became again habitable, since 
 the devil had ceased to haunt it, and the Marquis, his 
 children, and their descendants have dwelt happily in 
 it ever since.
 
 Che hautbop plaper 
 of Vcniabrcn.
 
 The Hautboy Player of 
 Ventabren 
 
 WHILE my companion was relating the story of The 
 Three Strong Men, we traveled over considerable 
 ground. The sun was setting when he finished, and we 
 were Hearing a town. Several of our fellow-travelers 
 had dropped off by the way, my companion and I shook 
 hands at the gate of the town, and I was left alone 
 to go to the inn. 
 
 I spent a very good night there, and the next day I 
 hardly know where I went. I believe that was the day 
 I met the hautboy player he was a jolly fellow, 
 though! He made it lively for us going through the 
 big woods. I '11 tell you about the hautboy player of 
 Ventabren. 
 
 I had been walking alone through a flat country 
 until, just as I came to an extensive piece of woods, I 
 met a man; and we were going through the woods in 
 company when it happened that, as another trail met 
 ours, we fell in with a man and a small boy.
 
 126 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 " Halloa! you here, Fougasse ?" shouted my compan 
 ion, as the man joined us. 
 
 " I am he," replied the newcomer. 
 
 " Where do you come from ? " 
 
 "Te! I come from the fete of Garigues." 
 
 I took him for a hautboy player. He wore a pigeon 
 feather in his hat, and an unmounted hautboy could 
 be seen sticking out of the pocket of his half-buttoned 
 vest. He carried a bundle swung on the end of a stick 
 over his shoulder it was a big fougasse tied in a nap 
 kin. The little boy carried on his back, strapped to his 
 shoulders, a tambourin, and pecairef* he could hardly 
 walk with his load, so young was he. 
 
 Speaking to the hautboy player, my companion very 
 familiarly called him " Fougasse," and I made bold to 
 say: "But that is not your name." 
 
 " Ho ! no, indeed; my name is Saouche. Fougasse is 
 my nickname." 
 
 "And don't you hate to be called Fougasse?" 
 
 " Hate it ? no ; I would not be a hautboy player if I 
 did all the hautboy players are nicknamed. It is 
 part of our calling, you know. 
 
 " You want to know why I am called Fougasse ? 
 
 " Well, I was returning from the fete of Garigues, as I 
 am now this was many years ago. I carried, as now, 
 a fougasse on the end of my stick. The sun was low as 
 we reached this very spot, and we were quietly jogging 
 along, as we are now, when the little fellow with me, 
 
 * Poor me !
 
 
 
 The Hautboy Player 129 
 
 like this one, said : ' Uncle, see that big dog coming be 
 hind us.' 
 
 " I turned and saw a tremendous wolf ten paces from 
 us. I took two or three steps towards him to frighten 
 him. He stopped, eyed me, and started when I started. 
 I stopped again he stopped; I walked, and he walked. 
 The night was coming on. I began to get scared. The 
 boy was holding tight to my hand, and we were stretch 
 ing our legs to the utmost, when the idea struck me 
 that he might be hungry. I would give him a piece of 
 my fougasse, and he would go off to eat it. 
 
 " Zou! I cut a piece, threw it at him, and ran. He 
 made but a mouthful of it. You would think he had 
 not eaten for three days. He showed wicked, sharp, 
 white teeth, which set me thinking; and hardly had he 
 swallowed the fougasse than he followed us again, this 
 time a little closer. I cut him another piece. Zou! He 
 swallowed it down quick, too; and little by little the 
 fougasse went. What was to be done? I was at my 
 wits' end. The night was dark; his eyes shone like two 
 lanterns. Directly there were four instead of two pierc 
 ing me with their wicked glare. Whether it was due to 
 the terrible fright, I am ashamed to own it; but I was 
 sure there were two wolves following us. My hair stood 
 up like the bristles on a hog's back my hat did not 
 touch my head. Good gracious! I thought to myself, if 
 I had only some more fougasse! I was in a terrible fix. 
 
 " We stopped, both of us petrified in our shoes, and
 
 130 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 the idea flashed to my mind: 'Perhaps they might like 
 to dance.' 
 
 " As quickly as my shaking fingers would let me, I 
 mounted my hautboy and began to play a medley of 
 I don't know what. The effect was like magic. They 
 stopped, hesitated a moment, and off they went as if the 
 devil was after them. I assure you they did not stop to 
 keep time to the hautboy. 
 
 "Did I stop playing? Not I! I played nearly the 
 whole night, until I reached my house. My wife, 
 who was still up, heard the hautboy, and came out on 
 the steps with a light. 
 
 " ' What do you mean by playing so late in the night ? 
 Have you gone crazy?' said she. I told her my adven 
 tures. She burst out laughing, and yet laughs every 
 time she thinks of it. Since then I have met many 
 wolves, but I never lose my wits. To one I play a little 
 farandole, to another the waltz of Sardan, and the thing 
 works like a charm they are off at the first note, and 
 I have no more trouble with them. 
 
 " The day after my scare, my wife, who likes gossip, 
 told one of our neighbors confidentially about it; she, 
 of course, told another, and the news spread. Soon I 
 was known as ' La Fougasse.' 
 
 "At Massillargues the hautboy player betook himself 
 to his mother's potato patch one day, with his neighbor's 
 old mule hitched to a plough. He sung out to the mule in 
 the shrill tones of the hautboy, and the beast tore across
 
 The Hautboy Player 131 
 
 the field like mad, dragging the boy and plough after 
 him. He tried to quiet him down; but the more 
 he heard of his notes, the faster he went back and 
 forth across the patch they had it, and they might 
 still be ploughing, if the plough had not struck a 
 buried root, broken the harness, and sent the hautboy 
 player turning somersaults into the middle of the 
 potato patch. The poor fellow went home more dead 
 than alive. His mother asked him how he came in 
 such a plight all sweat and dirt. He answered, surly 
 as could be : 
 
 " ' Never will I touch a plough again, I have had 
 ploughing enough to last a lifetime! N'a'i fa mi tibaje, 
 un tibaje!' 
 
 " The story got out, and everybody calls him ' Tibaje.' 
 
 "The hautboy player of Fontade has a mean 
 temper. He was always crying when a child, and his 
 mother gave him sweets and bonbons to quiet him. 
 The young rascal would stop long enough to eat; then 
 he would cry louder than ever: 'N'en vole mai! N'en 
 vole mai' (I want more). So it came to be his nickname. 
 To be sure, he is rather surly when they call him ' N'en 
 vole mai'; and, if he were not a hautboy player, he 
 would get downright mad. 
 
 " But what can you expect? Hautboy players should 
 be philosophers, and then so long as the pot is kept 
 boiling that is the main thing. We work little, earn 
 good wages, are always en fete. We dress well, and why
 
 13 2 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 should we worry or get mad ? For my part, you may 
 often hear me singing: 
 
 Tan pis p6r caou s6 chagrina 
 leoft si6'i toujou gai' 6 counten 
 m6 plas6 din ma cousina 
 Surtou quan I'asti6 vira b6n." * 
 
 * Sorry for who grieves, 
 I am always cheerful and content, 
 And I delight in my kitchen 
 When the spit nicely turns.
 
 Cppepre of $t* Clement 
 and ou Douna 
 of ecque$.
 
 Cypeyre of St. Clement and 
 Lou Douna of Lecques 
 
 WHILE Fougasse was relating his story, we arrived 
 in the village, and he and the little drummer-boy 
 took to our left. I wanted to spend the night at the 
 inn, the wolf story had made such an impression on my 
 mind. I took courage when my companion said : " It 
 is true that in the days of which Fougasse speaks 
 wolves were numerous, but in the last few years they 
 have been hunted down. Now there are not so many, 
 and perchance, if we come across one, we will whistle a 
 tune, and find out whether there is any truth in his tale. 
 Besides, this village inn is very poor. Let us push on 
 to the next village. I know the innkeeper, and we shall 
 be well treated." But I was thirsty, and insisted on 
 having a drink, so he went to the inn with me. There 
 was a solitary traveler in the room sitting before a bottle 
 of claret. He greeted my companion with : 
 
 "Halloa, Cypeyre, is that you? "What good wind 
 brings you here ? '' 
 
 The other replied : " And how d'ye do ? Douna, 
 whence do you come ? " 
 
 " I come from the fair of Picho Gallargues." 
 
 " Had you anything to sell ? "
 
 136 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 " No ; on the contrary, I wanted to buy my seed for 
 the coming fall from the Gypsies. They alone had any 
 for sale. But I have seen them play a trick which has 
 cooled me. I tell you they are nothing but a band of 
 thieves; the government ought to wipe them out, one 
 and all, men, women, and brats. 
 
 " Do you know they have played a trick on poor 
 Henri de Catalan which makes one think twice before 
 having any dealings with them. The poor fellow, to 
 raise some money, wanted to sell his white mule Falet 
 that big white mule, with ears going ' fliqua, flaqua,' 
 seeming to beat time when he walks. You know, Henri 
 is not over smart. He was walking, his coat over his 
 shoulder, vest unbuttoned, the rope of the halter in his 
 hand, and 'barisqua, barasqua' without ever turning 
 to see if his mule was following him, certain that so 
 long as held the rope he had the mule. 
 
 " Not far from the market-place, he passed a troop of 
 dirty Gypsies. Hardly had he got beyond the camp, 
 when one of them stealthily crept to the mule, unbuckled 
 the halter, put his head in it, and followed Henri, who, 
 unsuspectingly, jogged along, leading a man in the 
 place of his mule and that clear into the mule- 
 market. 
 
 " When they were in the midst of the crowd, the 
 Gypsy pulled gently on the halter, and then more and 
 more, until Henri turned round with a ' Get up, you 
 lazy mule!' You can have no idea of his amazement
 
 Cypeyre of St. Clement 139 
 
 when he saw the shabby, dirty Gypsy, with his shock of 
 a head in the halter. 
 
 " ' What art thou doing here, dirty lout ! ' 
 
 " The Gypsy coolly and blandly replied : 
 
 " ' My friend, for a crime I had committed, God 
 changed me into a mule. It is a great misfortune for 
 you that my time should expire this morning. If you 
 had sold me yesterday, the loss would not be for you. 
 But as the law forbids you to sell a man for a mule, 
 farewell ! ' 
 
 " He left, and Henri stood there in a crowd of men, 
 speechless, the rope in his hand, the halter on the 
 ground, scratching his head, and wondering if he was 
 dreaming. He was the laughing-stock of the whole fair. 
 His mule was gone, and, crestfallen, he took his way 
 back home." 
 
 "When we had refreshed ourselves we left Lou Douna 
 and set out on our way. 
 
 " I think I know who you are now," said I to my 
 companion. " You are Cypeyre of St. Clement, the busi 
 ness manager of the castle I have often heard your 
 name mentioned ; you have been long in your present 
 position." 
 
 " Oh, yes," he replied; " the position has been held by 
 father and son for more than eighty years, and I am on 
 my way back from Montpelier, where I went to see the 
 owners of the castle. They are growing old, and do not 
 come often to visit their estate. When they want any-
 
 14 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 thing they send for me. They are always very consid 
 erate, and treat ine as one of the family; but this time 
 they paid so little attention to my wants that I had to 
 remind them that I was hungry, in a way that covered 
 them with confusion and which makes me ashamed of 
 myself when I think of it. This morning, at about 
 two o'clock, I took a cup of coffee and left home to 
 walk to town. You know the distance is fully thirty- 
 three kilometres, going by short cuts on pretty rough 
 roads. I reached the master's house about half-past 
 eight in the morning, dusty, hungry and well-nigh 
 spent. I was announced, and when I was asked to go 
 into the dining-room, where the old couple were, it was 
 close to nine o'clock. As hungry as a bear, my stomach 
 would go 'brrrou, brrrou' at times. They were seated at 
 the table, with two large bowls of cafe-au-lait before them, 
 some nice chicken and sausage, butter and rolls of fresh- 
 baked pain-au-lait, which made one's hair curl, I assure 
 you. I would willingly have eaten three or four, for I 
 was hungry, and 'a good appetite requires no sauce,' 
 they say; but I had to wait for an invitation which 
 never came. 
 
 " They were both very kind. ' Oh, Cypeyre, you have 
 not come for so long! Well, how is all at the castle?' 
 
 " ' Yes, sir ; all is well ' and I was invited to sit by 
 the chimney before a bright fire. 
 
 " I thought to myself, ' I am more hungry than 
 cold.'
 
 Cypeyre of St. Clement 141 
 
 " The gentleman said : ' The shepherd is now recov 
 ered, is he not?' 
 
 " ' Yes, sir ; he is well again.' 
 
 " 'And the old mule lasts yet ? ' 
 
 " ' Yes, sir ; but we shall have soon to replace him.' 
 
 "'And the colt he must be fine; he will soon be 
 three years old.' 
 
 " ' Yes, sir ; he is a beauty. I have already driven 
 him a few times ; he will make a good roadster.' 
 
 '"And the wood-choppers are they through ? ' 
 
 " ' Yes, sir ; they finished two weeks ago, and I bring 
 you the money they left for you.' 
 
 " ' That is well,' said he ; and meanwhile this old 
 couple were daintily picking at every dish, and poor 
 me, more hungry than both together, watched them 
 with my stomach going ' brrrou, brrrou.' 
 
 " After a moment of silence, the lady said : 
 
 '"How are the flocks doing is there much in 
 crease?' And before I could answer her: 'Te! has the 
 goat any kids?' 
 
 "' Beg your pardon, madame; I had forgotten to tell 
 you she has three kids, and three fine ones they 
 are.' 
 
 " The lady turned to her husband and said : ' Do you 
 hear what he says? three kids ! How do you suppose 
 they suck ? The goat has only two teats.' 
 
 " I gave the husband no time to reply, but hastened to 
 say:
 
 142 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 " ' When two suck the mother, the third does as I am 
 doing now it looks on.' 
 
 " The lady, stung to the quick, apologized profusely : 
 
 " ' Excuse us, Cypeyre ; pardon us, my friend, it did 
 not occur to us that you had not had breakfast.' 
 
 " Promptly they gave orders to set a plate for me, and 
 I was served like a king. 
 
 " I know I was somewhat rude, but you know: 
 
 " ' L 'esprit quan lou vSntre ba'issa 
 
 Pre"n pa counsel qu6 d6 la ma'issa.' " * 
 
 I listened to all this without making any comment, 
 finding Cypeyre's ruse bold indeed, and yet thinking 
 that the oversight of the old couple deserved a little re 
 buke. 
 
 * An empty stomach guides the mind ; or, an empty stomach consults 
 only the palate.
 
 'A Blind man's Storp, 
 or tbe 
 Miraculous Cree.
 
 A Blind Man's Story, or the 
 Miraculous Tree 
 
 WHEN Cypeyre had done relating his story we 
 walked in silence, until we reached the foothills 
 of La Pefia. There were two ways the old and shorter 
 road which goes over the mountain, and the new road 
 which skirts it. 
 
 Cypeyre, who knew every inch of the ground in the 
 country, said to me : 
 
 " Let us take the new road ; a good road is never 
 long to travel, and I wish to point out to you a spot 
 where a very curious thing happened." 
 
 We journeyed on, and had skirted half the mountain, 
 we were then in the thick of the forest, when 
 Cypeyre pointed out a bare spot, and said : 
 
 " In olden times, on that clearing, was an enormous 
 tree, which looked like a cedar. The lower branches, 
 which grew on the trunk at a height of six or seven feet 
 from the ground, were thick, straight, horizontal, and so 
 long that a whole regiment could take shelter under 
 them. Four men with outstretched arms could hardly 
 have encompassed the trunk. The leaves were not nee 
 dle-shaped, like the cedars', but were large and soft as
 
 146 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 velvet, and so thick was the foliage that one could look 
 up and not see the sky through it. 
 
 " In summer shepherds led their flocks under this 
 tree, to protect them from the noonday heat. At times 
 five or six flocks could be seen under its shade, and there 
 was room for them all. 
 
 " In winter few people traveled this region, the road 
 was poor, the spot wild, lonesome, and dangerous on 
 account of brigands. 
 
 "Every year in early springtime a great many 
 "gavots" from the Lozere come down from their moun 
 tain homes to work in the rich surrounding departments, 
 where they find more work and better wages than they 
 could get at home. 
 
 " Two brothers, Batiste and Louiset, had gone to the 
 Baumel farm, belonging to Monsieur Granier. 
 
 " Their work, which was paid by the da} r , consisted of 
 spading vineyards. 
 
 " Batiste was seventeen years old, and his brother 
 about fifteen. Besides their wages, they got wine and 
 soup daily, cooked for them by the farmer's wife. The 
 rest they furnished and prepared themselves; and the rest 
 was little, indeed, mostly codfish, bread, and cheese. 
 But " gavots " are satisfied with little; and so long as the 
 wine and bread last they do not worry. This coarse diet 
 agrees with them, for when they come down in the 
 spring they are thin, lank, and pale ; but in a few days, 
 although working hard, they grow fat and rosy.
 
 
 /,', v "^r "" 
 
 ih&TiL A\I* 
 
 
 jf*-j^P B -
 
 A Blind Man's Story 149 
 
 " Batiste was headstrong. For him to stoop was seldom 
 a pleasant task. His ribs must have run lengthwise, like 
 a wolf 's ; at times you would have thought he had swal 
 lowed a sword, so hard was it for him to stoop and handle 
 the spade. Louiset, on the contrary, was good, a hard 
 worker, and, although younger by two years than his 
 brother, he kept up with him in the work. He was, on 
 that account, better liked than Batiste. 
 
 " In the country a well-known blind man went about 
 begging, led by a small boy. Everybody gave him alms 
 out of pity. He had his regular stopping-places in his 
 circuit, of which Baumel farm was one. There he was 
 always sure of a night's rest in the barn loft. 
 
 " Our two gavots were occupying it one summer night, 
 when in came the blind beggar and his boy. 
 
 " 'Say, Birele/ broke out the blind man, ' let us count 
 our money and see how much we have taken in to-day.' 
 
 " The boy began counting, and soon announced the 
 result ; eleven francs and ten centimes. 
 
 " ' We are not rich,' said the old man. 
 
 " 'But, grandfather,' said the boy, ' in the sack there 
 must be at least fifteen sous' worth of bread.' 
 
 "'Oh! that is only eleven francs seventeen sous; it is 
 small pay for our work,' replied the blind man. 
 
 " Batiste, who had been listening to their conversation, 
 broke out : 
 
 " ' You don't think eleven francs seventeen sous is 
 enough for your work ? Why, my brother and I work
 
 150 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 from early dawn until dark for five francs, and out of 
 that we must feed ourselves ; while you, I am sure, have 
 not spent a sou for anything.' 
 
 "'Yes, I bought two sous' worth of tobacco; no one is 
 without his weakness, you know. But what we shall 
 eat is a matter of no concern to us. We are given soup, 
 ragout, the remains of dinners, and all the wine we 
 want. But I seldom take wine ; it does not agree 
 with me. They give us also money; some one, some 
 two sous. The days are long; we beg at every door, 
 and thus fill up our purse. Nevertheless, I am not 
 satisfied with my day's work; it is one of the 
 poorest. 
 
 "'At the fair of Anduze, I have made as much as 
 thirty-two francs ; on the market of St. Hypolite, twenty- 
 eight ; at the Fete of Lezan, twenty-two. But the most 
 I have ever made was at the Pilgrimage of Notre Dame 
 de Prime Combe. I received, in sous, fifty-three francs 
 eleven sous. You see, people under strong religious 
 emotion are unthinking, and very generous. There is 
 also much to be made at Notre Dame de St. Loup, at St. 
 Gervasy, and other places. We don't miss a single 
 religious fete. It is necessary, you see, to put something 
 by for old age, and to dot one's children. Each one 
 must fight his battles in the world as best he can, and, 
 blind as I am, what could I do? My trade, after all, is 
 worth another man's.' 
 
 " Batiste opened his eyes as big as saucers ; he could
 
 A Blind Man's Story 153 
 
 not sleep that night. The next day, when they were at 
 dinner, he said to his brother : 
 
 " ' Did you hear what the blind beggar said last night? 
 His is a good business twenty -three, twenty -eight, 
 thirty-two, fifty-three francs in one day ! Good gracious! 
 And who knows if he tells the whole truth ? If he lives 
 a few more years he will have a fortune. 
 
 " * To put fifty francs aside it takes us at least a month, 
 and the weather has to be fine every day for that if it 
 rains, we are behind hand ; while he, rain or shine, takes 
 in money.' 
 
 " Louiset, who was asleep during the talk between his 
 brother and the beggar, was much surprised to hear 
 this, and for a while was quite undone. After a mo 
 ment's reflection, he said to his brother : 
 
 " ' Certainly you are right; his business is better than 
 ours. But he is blind, and we are not. To each one his 
 lot on earth; and Father Gregoire told me for my first 
 communion, that God had assigned to each one his work 
 in the world, and we should never complain.' 
 
 " ' Father Gregoire ! Father Gregoire! ' cried Batiste, ' if 
 he was obliged to work as we do from morning till night, 
 to live on codfish the year round, and never rest except 
 on a rainy day well, Father Gregoire would change 
 his mind, I am sure, and speak differently. If you are 
 willing, we can find means to live without working.' 
 
 "'How so? and what must we do for that?' said 
 Louiset.
 
 154 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 " ' If you like, I will put out your eyes; we will travel 
 and beg, as the blind man does, and we shall have as 
 much money as he has.' 
 
 " ' But you will hurt me.' 
 
 " 'Oh no; you will not feel it.' And so saying, Batiste 
 took out of the fireplace a pine stick, and before Louiset 
 had time to refuse his consent, thrust it into one of his 
 eyes. 
 
 "'Ouch! Ouch!' shrieked Louiset; and while he 
 screamed " Ouch," his brother took another burning stick 
 and thrust it into the other eye. 
 
 "The shrieks of the poor boy could be heard a mile 
 off. He was wild with pain. He stamped and foamed in 
 his agony, his face bleeding, his features convulsed. At 
 this heartrending crisis, Batiste, in the coolest, calmest 
 way, said to his brother: 
 
 "'Come, now, don't make such a fuss for so little. I 
 will apply a linseed poultice; it will relieve the pain ; you 
 will soon be healed.' 
 
 "Madame Granier, who had heard his groans, came in 
 haste. When she saw him, she exclaimed : 
 
 " 'My poor boy, what has happened to you ? Tell me.' 
 
 " Batiste hastened to answer for him : ' He climbed on 
 
 yonder tree,' he said, 'to get a nest of starlings, and 
 
 he fell on a brier-bush, and the thorns, I fear, have put 
 
 out his eyes.' 
 
 "Madame Granier quickly sent for her physician, 
 and while waiting for him, she applied sweet lard to
 
 A Blind Man's Story 155 
 
 Louiset's eyes, and did all she could to relieve his 
 suffering. 
 
 "The physician came, examined his patient, and said : 
 
 " ' His eyes are damaged ; they will still be pretty to 
 look at, but the sight is destroyed. The thin skin of the 
 pupil is gone; there is nothing to be done the boy 
 will be blind.' 
 
 " ' Poor boy,' people said ; ' such a fine fellow to be 
 blind for life!' 
 
 " ' It is awful ! If such an accident had happened to 
 his brother, we would not feel so sad ; for he is such a 
 mean fellow. But Louiset poor Louis good Louiset!' 
 
 " And, by way of comment, an old peasant added : 
 
 "'Anything would happen in this world, even to the 
 death of a poor man's donkey, sooner than any mishap 
 to such a tough as Batiste.' 
 
 " The physician treated the eyes the best he knew how, 
 made the boy wear a bandage over them to keep out the 
 light, in case the sight was not totally destroyed, and in 
 three weeks the pain was gone; but the boy was entirely 
 blind. 
 
 "All in the village took pity on him during his sickness. 
 They provided for all his wants, and more, too. He, who 
 had never been invited to sit at the table of any one in 
 the village, was feasted like a king. He received atten 
 tion and kindness, to which, as a human being, he was 
 entitled before, but which no one thought of giving until 
 his misfortune.
 
 156 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 "The first emotion over, the villagers relapsed into 
 their old somnolence, and Batiste and Louiset were at 
 last obliged to carry out their plan. 
 
 " So, one morning they set out for a neighboring vil 
 lage, begging, for God's sake, from door to door. 
 
 "'Douna me quicon, seouple, quicon aou paoure 
 avugle, per 1'amour d'aou boun Diou,' plaintively 
 entreated Louiset. 
 
 "'Gramerci, que lou boun D'iou vou lou refide e vou 
 benigue,' added Louiset.* 
 
 " On seeing so young a lad in so sad a predicament, 
 every housewife gave them alms. The first day they 
 made fifteen francs thirteen sous, and in the evening 
 Batiste said to Louiset : 
 
 " 'You see what a sum we have. To earn that much 
 we should have had to work three days. If this keeps 
 up, we shall have a good business.' 
 
 " It kept up, and Batiste was full of care and kindness 
 for his brother. He looked after all his wants, seeing 
 that he lacked nothing. The best morsels given them 
 were for Louiset. Every evening they counted their 
 receipts, which kept increasing, and in a few weeks their 
 purse was quite large. Week by week, and month by 
 month, their fortune swelled, and by the end of the sec 
 ond year they had one hundred ecus to their names. 
 
 * " Give me something, if you please, something for the poor blind man, 
 for God's sake." 
 
 "Many thanks; may God return it to you and bless you." These are the 
 words of entreaty and of thanks used by beggars in Southern France.
 
 A Blind Man's Story 157 
 
 " But people born mean will sooner or later follow their 
 inclinations. Batiste proved no exception ; he got tired 
 of this kind of life. ' To act as if one were poor, and 
 yet be rich, that will not do,' he was always saying to 
 himself; 'that cannot last. One hundred ecus is a 
 fortune. If I had not to drag that boy from door to 
 door, I would go into some town, buy an old nag and 
 cart, and peddle charcoal. I would soon get rich at that.' 
 
 " From the moment he began reasoning thus, he was 
 not the same man. He began to steal from his brother 
 half the alms, and when a choice bit was given them 
 Batiste no longer shared it with his brother, but ate it 
 all himself. Did some charitable soul give Louiset a 
 good coat, Batiste put it on, and the blind boy went 
 ragged. Louiset had worn-out shoes, while Batiste was 
 always well shod. Kindness and tender care gave way 
 to rough talk and harsh treatment, and many petty 
 indignities, too sad to relate, were heaped upon Louiset 
 by his brother. 
 
 " Louiset could not see it all, but he felt that he was 
 not treated right; and one day something happened 
 which occasioned a complete rupture. At the door of a 
 nice house a large piece of omelet was given them a 
 delicious, golden-brown omelet, warm and fragrant the 
 odor would have revived a dead person. Batiste ate it 
 all himself, and, taking Louiset by the hand, said : 
 ' Come along.' 
 
 " Unfortunately for Batiste, Louiset had a good nose,
 
 158 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 and the odor of the omelet made his mouth water. So 
 he said : ' Give me a piece of that omelet ; it smells good 
 and must be delicious.' 
 
 "'Who told you I had any omelet?' gruffly retorted 
 Batiste. 
 
 " ' Who told me ? I smelt it,' rejoined Louiset, angrily. 
 
 "Batiste denied having had any omelet; but Louiset 
 felt sure that he had, and that he was deceiving him. 
 Then he reproached his brother for causing his blind 
 ness, accused him of robbing him and getting rich at 
 his expense, called him a good-for-nothing fellow, a 
 rascal and a rogue, and was sure that God would punish 
 his villainy. 
 
 " Batiste did not say much, but he was provoked, and 
 promised to be even with him at the first chance. 
 
 " That evening, on leaving the village, they were walk 
 ing along a foot-path which led through an old planta 
 tion of fine mulberry-trees, whose gnarled trunks showed 
 their great age, when suddenly it occurred to Batiste 
 that the spot was a favorable one to play a trick on his 
 brother. He led him within two feet of one of the 
 oldest and knottiest of the mulberry-trees, and told him 
 to make a great leap to clear the ditch in front of him. 
 The poor blind boy did as he was told, and jumping 
 with all his might, knocked his nose against the tree, 
 bruising his face frightfully. 
 
 " ' Unnatural brother ! Miserable villain ! You wretch ! 
 where will your soul go to ? ' cried Louiset.
 
 A Blind Man's Story 159 
 
 " Batiste replied, with cold brutality : ' You smelt the 
 omelet; why did you not smell the tree?' 
 
 " From that time on, one thought possessed Batiste 
 to get rid of his brother. How to do it, was the question. 
 To kill him would be a risk to himself, for murder will 
 out ; to abandon him might be worse, for surely Louiset 
 would tell how his brother had put out his eyes ; yet he 
 had firmly resolved to cease dragging the boy after him. 
 
 " While in this quandary they reached, one evening, 
 the very spot we stand on, the country looked even 
 wilder and more deserted than now. They stopped under 
 the tree, and Batiste thought to himself: 
 
 " ' Let me leave him here to-night ; some wild animal 
 prowling about will surely devour him, and no one will 
 be there to tell the tale.' 
 
 "Batiste never slept over an evil thought it would 
 have been better for him if he had, and at once set out 
 to carry out his plan. 
 
 " 'Sit under this tree, Louiset, and wait for me ; I will 
 soon be back/ he said. Louiset sat under the tree and 
 patiently waited ; his infirmity had taught him patience. 
 He waited half an hour, an hour, and then began call 
 ing, 'Batiste! Batiste!' but Batiste made no reply. 
 Growing impatient, Louiset called louder and louder, 
 but the hills alone answered him. In the stillness that 
 followed the echo of his voice, solitude was deep upon 
 him. A chill crept over him as the thought flashed 
 to his mind, and he realized that he was abandoned and
 
 160 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 left to perish alone in a great forest. His soul became 
 a prey, in turn, to terror and anger, to utter dejection and 
 despair. His head in his hands, crouched under the big 
 tree, big tears left the sightless eyes of the poor beggar boy. 
 Night overtook him in that position, and a distant roar 
 warned him of danger near. The instinct of self-preserva 
 tion gives courage to the most downcast of human hearts ; 
 it filled Louiset with a sudden desire to live longer. He 
 sprang up, and tried to grasp the tree to climb it, but 
 failed ; then, with the crook of his cane, he felt for a low 
 branch that he might pull within reach. He succeeded, 
 and, being nimble and agile, was soon perched on a high 
 bough in the thick of the tree. He was none too soon ; 
 a wild boar grunted at the foot of the tree. ' Ah ! ' said 
 Louiset, with revived hope and a tinge of pleasure, ' what 
 a fine morsel I would have been for that fellow.' 
 
 " Just then the deafening tramp of thousands of ani 
 mals was heard ; they were coming from all directions, 
 and gathering under the tree. 
 
 " In the midst of that immense herd, with its confused 
 sounds, the roar of a lion could be distinctly heard. 
 
 "They greeted each other as they came, animals 
 spoke in those days, inquiring after each other's health 
 and about the ladies and the young ones left at 
 home. They paid compliments, and kept up a buzz of 
 conversation which reached Louiset's ears as articulate 
 sounds, but too indistinct to be intelligible. 
 
 "Louiset kept still on his branch, as though he was
 
 A Blind Man's Story 163 
 
 petrified. His great fear was now to be discovered. To 
 be discovered, indeed meant death, and a horrible death, 
 at that. 
 
 "When all the denizens of the forest had gathered 
 under the tree, and the tumultuous enthusiasm of the 
 first hour had toned down, one of the crowd struck his 
 paws for order and demanded silence. The confusion, 
 as is customary in such cases, increased for a few sec 
 onds, as each one of the animals seated himself on his 
 haunches ; then all became still, and the lion, in a bass 
 voice, said : 
 
 " ' Friends, you know that we have not much time to 
 give to our annual gathering ; we have to retire before 
 daybreak, and some of us have come from very far; so 
 let us begin. What happened at Montpelier?' 
 
 " ' Dame Zebelin, the widow of Mr. Zebelin, the fox, so 
 well known by us, and so much dreaded by the chickens, 
 was killed last week by her demented son. It is very 
 sad, for she leaves three young orphans, who will fall a 
 prey to the dogs of the neighborhood unless we try to 
 protect them/ said a voice. 
 
 '"Let all the foxes of that district keep an eye on the 
 little foxes/ roared the lion. ' Anything else ? ' 
 
 "'The youngest daughter of Mr. Catalan, the wolf, 
 has eloped; her mother is heart-broken/ said a voice 
 from the crowd. 
 
 "'When? when?' 
 
 " ' No later than yesterday.'
 
 164. Tales of Languedoc 
 
 "'With whom? with a young wolf in the neighbor 
 hood ? ' 
 
 " ' No, indeed ; with an old fellow who has a large 
 family of children, who is old and ugly, bob-tailed, and 
 blind in one eye. His oldest son is after them, and, as 
 he is in love with the girl himself, he will make it hot 
 for the old man if he catches them.' 
 
 " 'And he will serve him right it is a disgrace to the 
 animal family/ several said at once. 
 
 " ' That is a good illustration of the proverb : 
 
 " ' Fias prSstas a marida 
 
 Michan troupel a garda,' " * 
 
 chimed in an old veteran, who was wearing a bandage 
 over one eye. 
 
 " ' What is the matter with your eye, Brother Groug- 
 nare?' inquired the lion. 
 
 " ' I have been driven from my lair so often of late by 
 old Samalin's dogs that for a month I have slept with 
 one eye open, and, no doubt, have strained my eyesight. 
 On my word, I believe I 'm growing blind! ' 
 
 " ' I know what will cure you/ said a falsetto voice, 
 which Louiset thought must be a marten's. 
 
 " They all turned towards the last speaker, and an in 
 credulous smile wrinkled the scarred face of the old vet 
 eran of the woods. 
 
 " ' What can you know, youngster, that I don't know?' 
 contemptuously asked the old boar. 
 
 * Daughter of a marriageable age, bad flock to watch. Proverb of Lan 
 guedoc.
 
 A Blind Man's Story 165 
 
 " ' I know/ piped the marten, while his tail was nerv 
 ously switching the ground, ' I know that the leaves of 
 this tree will cure sore eyes. Just rub them over your 
 eyes for twenty minutes and see ! Mother told me before 
 she died that they had been known even to restore sight 
 to the blind.' 
 
 '"That's so,' said a sly old fellow in a tremulous 
 voice; 'your mother and I were of an age, and I have 
 known of the curative property of these leaves from my 
 earliest youth; but I never mentioned it it was a 
 great secret and you would have done better, young 
 ster, to have held your tongue.' 
 
 "'Perhaps so,' said the marten; 'but I only had in 
 view to help a suffering brother and, then, among our 
 selves, we ought to be able to speak out freely and fear 
 lessly.' 
 
 "'Aye, aye, I wish it so!' said the same tremulous 
 voice. ' But remember, youngster, that prudence is the 
 mother of safety; and you must be on your guard, for 
 here stones have ears.' 
 
 " ' I know something,' said a wolf who was a traveling 
 musician; 'but I should not like it to go beyond the 
 present company.' 
 
 " ' Speak without fear,' said several voices ; ' we will 
 keep your secret.' 
 
 " ' Well, about a month ago I was in Corconne, playing 
 the clarinet for a country dance. The day was hot, and 
 my throat was parched ; I was actually dying of thirst.
 
 1 66 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 I asked one of the dancers for a glass of water. He 
 laughed in my face, asked me where I was born, and 
 whether I had cut my eye-teeth. " Don't you know," 
 added he, " that in Corconne chickens die of the pip for 
 the lack of water?'" 
 
 " 'They brought me a glass of wine. I drank it, and it 
 made me more thirsty yet. After the fiftieth dance, dry, 
 hot, and out of wind, I strolled out, and chanced to stop 
 under an old, half-dead cherry-tree, to cool off. Now, 
 you all know that I inherited from my father the gift 
 of finding water ; that with my foot I can tell where a 
 spring is, how deep in the earth it is, how much water 
 it will yield, and all about it. Well, I was hardly under 
 that old, half-rotten tree, when my foot struck it. The 
 current was so strong that it made me dance a jig on 
 the spot, tired as I was. 
 
 '"The dancers looked amused, and said I had gone 
 crazy, but I held my peace. If they had not killed so 
 many of my kind, I would have told them all about the 
 spring ; but now I want it kept a secret. Nevertheless, 
 whoever finds the spring will confer a great boon to 
 Corconne. Now, all of you keep mum about it, will 
 you?' 
 
 " ' We shall, we shall,' shouted they all. 
 
 " There was a moment's silence, then a voice, which 
 might be the fox's, said : ' Friends, a year ago, in our 
 annual gathering under this very tree, some of us criti 
 cised the medical profession as more baneful to mankind
 
 A Blind Man's Story 167 
 
 than we to chicken -coops; and yet I believe that physi 
 cians are improving in their methods, and are relieving 
 suffering humanity. I wish we could take pattern after 
 them, and study the art of curing our sick brethren, 
 especially those who suffer from that dread disease 
 consumption. We are all liable to it, you know, on 
 account of being out nights.' 
 
 " ' Not all animals not all by any means ! Did 
 you ever see a Billy Goat die of consumption?' grunted, 
 with a wink, an old sinner of a bear, which saying raised 
 a general laugh. 
 
 " ' Yes,' retorted the fox, who was not slow at repartee, 
 ' when you get him in your embrace, Master Bear, he 
 does usually die of consumption. 1 
 
 " The audience fairly roared. The bear gave a tre 
 mendous grunt, and looked his meanest at the fox, while 
 the lion rapped for order. 
 
 "From the middle of the crowd arose an old patriarch, 
 who, with calm dignity, said: 
 
 "'You have just heard from the lips of our cunning 
 brother, the fox, that physicians had greatly improved, 
 and could cure almost anything; but I tell you they do 
 not, and there is a man who has very little faith in them.' 
 
 "'Who is that?' asked several voices at once. 
 
 " ' Mr. Duran Palerme, Marquis de Castrie. Go and ask 
 his opinion of physicians; he will tell you a different 
 story. 
 
 "'His only daughter has been ill ever since she left
 
 1 68 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 her convent. She has been treated by all the physicians 
 of Lyon, Marseilles, Montpelier, Toulouse, and Paris, but 
 no one has found what is the matter with her. They 
 have treated her for all kinds of diseases; she has swal 
 lowed tons of drugs, and has cost her father a fortune. 
 She is about nineteen years old, and would be pretty if 
 she were not so thin ; but she is fast losing strength, and 
 cannot live long. 
 
 "' Her father has offered her in marriage to any young 
 physician who will cure her; but so far no one has suc 
 ceeded in curing her.' 
 
 "'I know what ails her,' said another; 'but it is a 
 secret known only to myself and an old servant of the 
 Marquis, whom he had dismissed just before the girl's 
 illness. This old woman is in her dotage, and often 
 thinks aloud. One day, as I was hiding near her hut, I 
 overheard her muttering to herself about the cause of 
 the disease; and she chuckled with ghoulish glee at the 
 near death of the young lady.' 
 
 " ' Will she not relent in the presence of death ? ' 
 
 " 'No; the old wench will not relent, even in the pres 
 ence of death. You may depend on it, her heart is 
 parched lost to all humane feelings.' 
 
 "'Well, what ails the girl? Let us know it,' the 
 meeting inquired, their curiosity at its height. 
 
 " ' Not much, after all. Under the left breast there 
 is a lump as big as an almond, which drains her life- 
 blood and exhausts her strength. If the lump were
 
 A Blind Man's Story 169 
 
 removed with some sharp instrument, she would be well 
 within a month. No physician has ever seen it. It does 
 not pain her, and she has not thought of mentioning it 
 to any one. A maid-servant, who is something of a witch, 
 discovered the lump while undressing her, and knew 
 that some day she would have trouble with it.' 
 
 " 'That is strange, indeed. How many diseases the flesh 
 is heir to ! ' philosophically remarked an old veteran 
 marauder who sat near the lion. ' But it is now early 
 dawn, and I would advise a speedy retreat into the thick 
 of the forest.' 
 
 " They all arose, and the gathering broke up, with 
 the understanding that they should meet next year on 
 the same spot. 
 
 " For some time this great scattering of animals in all 
 directions, in the stillness of early dawn, was something 
 weird and awful. There was a rustling of dead leaves, 
 a cracking of branches, and the general stampede seemed 
 to give life to every bush within miles around. Little 
 by little, however, the noise receded, growing fainter 
 and fainter to the ears of Louiset, until only now and 
 then was heard the cracking of branches in the distance; 
 then all was still. Half an hour after the meeting broke 
 up, Nature resumed her wonted stillness, and the 
 most profound silence reigned over the primeval forest 
 silence the more impressive, that it succeeded the noisy 
 tramp of ten thousand four-footed beasts, and preceded 
 the awakening of sleeping Nature. The lull was soon
 
 170 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 over. Louiset heard a lark, and a melodious note pro 
 claimed to the winged denizens of the woods the dawn 
 of a new day. A thousand little throats answered, 
 the woods became astir with life, the sun kissed the dew 
 and dried every tear from the leaves, the flowers sent 
 up their fragrance night was gone. 
 
 " Louiset was a country boy, and had seldom missed 
 a sunrise. He knew all the infallible signs of the dawn, 
 and, stretching his benumbed limbs, he began to breathe 
 more freely. He had not slept that night, I assure you ; 
 but he had been a very attentive listener to the discus 
 sions of the assemblage below. 
 
 " The revelation made by the marten filled his heart 
 with hope. Oh, if it only might be true that the 
 leaves of the tree which sheltered him could restore his 
 sight, how thankful he would be ! His night of anxiety 
 on the high perch would prove a great blessing. He 
 lost no time, you may be sure, in feeling with the sensi 
 tive fingers of a blind man for the finest and softest 
 leaves with which to rub his eyes. 
 
 "About fifteen minutes after he began rubbing, he saw 
 stars twinkling like diamonds through the leaves. That 
 gave him courage ; he kept rubbing, and soon made out 
 the tree, then the woods, the road below, the beautiful 
 sun, which had been eclipsed for so long ; finally the 
 least object about him became visible. With a joyous 
 shout and a thankful heart, he jumped to the ground, 
 found his bearings, and, with a song on his lips, set out 
 for the nearest village.
 
 A Blind Man's Story 171 
 
 "On the way, he looked himself over, and found his 
 clothes all rags and tatters, his sho'SS worn out, his hat 
 brimless, and he the very picture of destitution. His 
 brother had taken all the money but fifty francs, which 
 he must have left by mistake. Fifty francs was not too 
 much to refit him with good clothes ; but he would not 
 go to the best tailor some second-hand clothes would 
 do, for he must make the small sum go as far as possible. 
 
 " Late in the afternoon he reached a small town, where 
 he inquired for a dealer in old clothes, and purchased a 
 good-looking suit and a pair of shoes. He washed and 
 brushed himself, then went to an inn for his dinner. He 
 partook of an omelet as a reminder of his ill-luck, and 
 treated himself to coffee and cigars in honor of his good 
 fortune. Although Louiset was only a peasant, he had seen 
 and observed good manners, and he sipped his coffee 
 and lounged at his smoke as any gentleman would have 
 done. There was no doubt about it, he was enjoying the 
 new role immensely. Escaping from the jaws of death, 
 as it were, he could not be more exultant over the turn 
 in his luck. But Louiset was also a shrewd fellow. He 
 remembered what Mr. Wolf and Mr. Fox had said about 
 the great price the villagers of Corconne would pay for 
 water, and the rich marriage in store for the young man 
 who could cure Miss de Palerme, and he was laying 
 plans to carry out successfully the two great undertakings. 
 
 " His coffee drunk, and his cigar smoked, he retired to 
 his room and thought out again his schemes, and was
 
 17 2 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 in the act of marrying Miss de Palerme, when sleep 
 overtook him. All that night happy dreams hovered 
 over his pillow, and the sun was already high when he 
 awoke. 
 
 " Remembering that diligence is the secret of success, 
 he quickly dressed and breakfasted, paid his hotel bill 
 with his last sou, and set out for Corconne, gaunt of 
 wallet, but light of heart. 
 
 "This was on Sunday morning, and he reached the 
 village in question as the last church-bell was ringing. 
 A stream of people were pouring into the church, and 
 Louiset thought : 
 
 " ' I had better go in and attend the service, and after 
 church I will speak to some of the people of my scheme 
 to furnish the village with water.' 
 
 " Dipping his finger in the font, he crossed himself, 
 and modestly sat on a bench near the door. 
 
 " In Corconne, a stranger does not turn up oftener than 
 once in ten years ; so his presence in the church made 
 a sensation. A whisper went round, people turned to 
 look, and the maidens stared at the stranger. Even the 
 good priest noticed him, and, with native courtesy, shook 
 him by the hand, and invited him to a better seat. Still 
 more, he urged him to join the choir. 
 
 " ' I am not a fine singer,' said Louiset ; ' but I can 
 sing a little.' 
 
 " The priest led him to the front row of the choir, and 
 he did his best to sing; but they all sang out of tune, and
 
 A Blind Man's Story 175 
 
 Louiset could only keep time to the chorister with 
 his features. He did not know how they would 
 like this kind of pantomime, and was frightened 
 when he saw the priest coming to him after service. 
 The latter did not notice his blushes, complimented 
 his singing, and asked him to dine. 
 
 " Louiset thanked the priest, and accepted his invita 
 tion with pleasure, since he was penniless and eager to 
 talk to some one of his mission. 
 
 "At table, after the bouillon, Father Poumier, who 
 was a solid drinker, said: ' Let us drink a glass of claret,' 
 and he poured the glasses full to the brim. Louiset 
 thought his chance had come, and said : 
 
 "'Father Poumier, lam not much of a drinker; I 
 would prefer a glass of water.' 
 
 "'Water!' exclaimed the priest; 'it is water you 
 want ! Rather ask for the jewels of the king's 
 crown than water in Corconne! "Water is what we 
 lack most; and if any one could find a spring in 
 the village, the mayor would pay him a handsome 
 price.' 
 
 "'Do you really think they would pay the man well 
 who should find a spring?' and Louiset scanned the 
 priest's face. 
 
 " ' Indeed they would ! ' was the earnest reply. 
 
 "'"Well, Father Poumier, I must inform you that I 
 came for 110 other purpose than to furnish water to the 
 people of this village.'
 
 
 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 "'Why, do you mean it? And how did you know 
 we lacked water ? Are you a wizard ? ' 
 
 " ' Perhaps, sir.' 
 
 " ' Well, I warn you that they will not fork over the 
 money until they see the water gushing through the 
 street. Large sums have been paid to hundreds of men 
 who claimed to be water-witches, and we have dug up 
 every foot of our public square, and many of the private 
 yards, all without getting a drop of water.' 
 
 " ' If I promise to find you a spring, I will find one ; 
 you may depend on it.' 
 
 " ' Very well ; after dinner we will step over to the 
 mayor's or rather let me send for him ' and calling 
 a servant : ' Please go ask the mayor to call here before 
 going to the cafe ; he will take coffee with us.' 
 
 " The mayor came, and they talked the matter over 
 (that goes without saying); but the agreement they 
 came to was this: The Commune would furnish four 
 men and all the tools necessary to dig where Louiset 
 should direct; and when the villagers had all the water 
 they wanted to use, Louiset was to receive ten thousand 
 francs, in three payments. 
 
 "The next day being Monday, the four men went 
 forth with their spades and picks, followed by the 
 villagers, to the public square. Everybody was dying 
 to know where the stranger would break ground ; and 
 everybody was giving his or her opinion, as usual in 
 such a crowd, when Louiset appeared, and going straight 
 to the old cherry-tree, gave orders to dig it up.
 
 A Blind Man's Story 179 
 
 " The ground around the old tree had never felt a 
 spade, and the men had to use their picks. By nightfall 
 they had only uncovered the first roots. The next day 
 they removed all those which radiated from the stump, 
 and they found the tree held by a single long tap-root. 
 This proved that the tree had never been transplanted, 
 but had grown on the same spot a question which 
 had long divided the village squabblers, and feeling ran 
 high between the ' I told you so,' and the ' I never said 
 it,' folks. 
 
 :< At the root of the tree was a large, round stone. Two 
 or three times this stone had blunted the axe of the 
 workman. Louiset gave orders to remove it. The four 
 men worked hard with crowbars. They pried it on all 
 sides ; they tried to lift it, and were about to give it up, 
 when suddenly it was thrown up ; a stream of water, 
 three feet high and three feet in diameter, washed the 
 four men out of the hole, and threatened to inundate 
 the whole village ! 
 
 " Everybody shouted : ' A miracle ! A miracle ! ' 
 
 "The mayor, the priest, the municipal council, all 
 agreed to raise at once the promised sum. A great feast 
 was given in honor of the event, and Louiset was treated 
 magnificently. 
 
 " The people of Corconne have since erected a monu 
 mental fountain on the spot where the old cherry-tree 
 grew, and they have come to drink more water and less 
 wine.
 
 180 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 " Our Louiset, once in possession of the ten thousand 
 francs, returned to town, and purchased a beautiful car 
 riage and fine team, besides fitting himself with a hand 
 some suit of clothes, silk hat and gloves, a physician's 
 case, and a cane. Thus transformed, he seated himself 
 in his equipage, powdered and spectacled, and ordered 
 his coachman to drive him to the castle of Fourmagne. 
 
 "But oh, misfortune! A calamity had befallen the 
 castle ! All was commotion. The servants were coming 
 and going, with sober faces and tearful eyes. Perceiv 
 ing something unusual as he drove up, Louiset asked 
 what had happened. He was told by the servants that 
 their beloved young mistress had just died. He an 
 nounced himself as a physician, and begged to see their 
 master at once. Without delay, he was taken to the 
 sick room. What he saw there moved him almost to 
 tears. 
 
 " In a large, beautiful arm-chair, which had held the 
 dying forms of many ancestors, lay the maiden, wrapped 
 in an elegant peignoir, her head resting on a down pillow. 
 She was, to all appearance, lifeless, and her father, the 
 Marquis, was tearing his hair, wild with grief. Her 
 mother, the Marchioness, was lying in a swoon, with 
 maids trying to revive her. 
 
 " Louiset soon recovered from his emotion, and with a 
 coolness that would have done credit to an old practi 
 tioner, he proceeded to take charge of the case. He felt 
 her pulse, and found none; he placed his ear at her heart,
 
 A Blind Man's Story 183 
 
 and perceived a slight beating. He asked for a hand 
 glass, and brought it close to her lips. It became veiled 
 with a slight, a very slight cloud. Thus convinced that 
 life was not extinct, he spoke in a commanding tone, at 
 the same time with an assurance which brought hope 
 to the Marquis' stricken heart: 
 
 " ' She is not dead. Calm yourself, sir. And you, (to 
 the servants,) don't stand there paralyzed. Place your 
 mistress on yonder couch ; give her plenty of fresh air, 
 and open her gown at the chest.' 
 
 " The servants did as they were bidden, while he took 
 out his case and applied a small vial to her nostrils, allow 
 ing her to breathe its contents; and lo ! she opened her 
 eyes and whispered faintly, as one in a dream, "'Ah! how 
 well I feel ! ' and, to her mother who, revived, was now 
 
 by her side, 'Be calm, dear mother; I feel so ' 
 
 before the ' well ' had left her lips, she had fainted again. 
 
 " 'She is dead ! She is dead ! ' they all cried. 
 
 "ButLouiset commanded silence, and, addressing the 
 Marquis, said : 
 
 " ' Sir, your daughter needs perfect quietness. Let all 
 retire but you and me if we need more we will call, 
 and I will answer by my head for your daughter's 
 recovery.' 
 
 " When they had all left the room, Louiset said to the 
 Marquis : 
 
 " ' Your daughter is very feeble ; but she is not hope 
 lessly ill. Trust her to my care for a month, and I
 
 184 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 believe I can cure her. I do not profess to work mira 
 cles; but I feel sure that I understand her case and can 
 give her exactly the right treatment.' 
 
 " ' A dying man catches at a straw/ and the Marquis 
 was in that state that it took very little to revive his hope. 
 
 " ' Sir physician,' said he, ' I intrust my daughter 
 to your good care. Do as you think best; and I repeat 
 to you what I have said to many other physicians : " If 
 you cure her, I will give her to you in marriage." ' 
 
 " During this short colloquy, Louiset had applied the 
 scent-bottle again. When he had consent to treat her, 
 he unfastened the girl's dressing-gown, so as to expose 
 the left breast, and with a lancet, concealed in his hand, 
 he dexterously removed at a stroke the lump which, 
 according to the fox, was the cause of all the poor girl's 
 sufferings. 
 
 "This neat little operation performed, he waited a 
 moment. Presently she opened her eyes; and when she 
 had fully recovered from the fainting fit, he gave very 
 minute directions for the day's treatment. She was to 
 have good care, always by the same nurse. No one else 
 was to enter the room, and she was to take little besides 
 good beef-juice. 
 
 " ' To-morrow,' said the would-be physician, 'I will 
 return and bring the sovereign remedy for her case ; you 
 will see her stronger in a few days.' 
 
 " He took his leave of the Marquis, who remained 
 in a state of doubt and anxiety until the morrow.
 
 A Blind Man's Story 185 
 
 " The following day, when Louiset came, he noticed 
 that the patient looked better, and that her pulse was 
 stronger; so he gave new directions to the nurse, and left 
 a box of pepsin powder, which he called by such a com 
 plicated name that no one knew what it meant, not even 
 the physician himself; but this powder, he impressed 
 upon them, was the wonderful remedy which would cure 
 infallibly, if given according to directions. So they 
 did not bother about the name, but administered it to 
 the patient as prescribed. 
 
 " The third day there was much improvement in the 
 patient's condition. She relished her food, had gained 
 a little strength, and even wanted to sit up. The Mar 
 quis and his wife were overjoyed ; they treated Louiset 
 like a prince, and reverenced him as the savior of their 
 child. They insisted upon his staying at the castle, in 
 order to be in constant attendance on their sick child, 
 for fear of a relapse. Louiset refused discreetly at first, 
 but finally yielded to their importunities, and became 
 an inmate of the Marquis' household. It was not long 
 before he was on the footing of a son at the castle. 
 
 " It would take too long to relate all the details of the 
 damsel's convalescence, and to follow her through its 
 many stages, as strength and beauty returned, and she 
 became more and more an interesting subject of study 
 for the young physician. Nor can I linger long over the 
 sumptuous wedding at the castle after the damsel's full 
 recovery. It suffices to say, that the blind beggar boy
 
 i86 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 became the husband of an excellent and estimable lady ; 
 that he was henceforth on a footing of equality with the 
 noblest and oldest families of the district ; that his fame 
 as a physician spread far and wide, and that, but for his 
 common sense prompting him to take no more cases 
 and to give up medicine as a profession, he might have 
 had to answer at the Judgment Day for the death of 
 many a person. 
 
 "As it was, he lived quietly and happily on his wife's 
 income, spending much time in the Marquis' library, 
 making up for deficient education, driving about with 
 his wife, or riding with the gentlemen of the neigborhood. 
 
 " Some years later, he was, at the close of a hot sum 
 mer day, inhaling the evening breeze from the broad 
 piazza of the castle in company with his wife and their 
 young child, the joy of his home, when a stranger, 
 ragged and weather-beaten, stopped at the gate of the 
 avenue and looked intently at him for some time, and 
 then shouted at the top of his voice : ' Louiset ! Louiset! ' 
 
 " Louiset went to the gate, and was greatly surprised 
 to see his brother Batiste; but as he did not care to pre 
 sent him to his wife, he took him to his private office 
 and had a long conversation with him. 
 
 " To this day, no one has ever known what passed 
 between the two brothers. The reproaches Louiset ad 
 dressed to Batiste, the tears of repentance Batiste may 
 have shed, the forgiveness he may have begged, are 
 all for us to guess. All we learned from the interview
 
 A Blind Man's Story 189 
 
 is the history of Batiste after he left Louiset under the 
 tree. 
 
 " He took the road to Marseilles, and walked all night 
 and all day, in order to get far away from his brother, 
 and not to hear of his cruel death. But travel as far as 
 he might, he seemed always to hear the agonized shrieks 
 of his blind brother as he fell a prey to the animals of 
 the forest. 
 
 "ReachingMarseilles,he carried out his long cherished 
 plan. He bought a mule and cart, invested in charcoal, 
 and behold him shouting through the streets : ' Char 
 coal ! charcoal ! who wants to buy any charcoal ? ' 
 
 "He made a good living. The sun shines on the just 
 and the unjust, and he might have laid up a compe 
 tency, had not his evil propensities led him into bad 
 company. His friends, the vagabonds of Marseilles, 
 robbed him, beat him, and left him for dead in the 
 streets. A soldier's patrol took him to the hospital, and 
 when he came out he had to beg his bread. He was 
 not, however, dragging a blind man, and the alms which 
 fell into his hat were few. 
 
 " Batiste was in extreme misery when he reached the 
 castle of Fourmagne and found himself in the presence 
 of his brother. He dared not question Louiset ; yet he 
 was very curious to know how his brother had come by 
 so much wealth. 
 
 " Louiset told his brother very briefly all that had 
 happened to him since they parted. He pictured his
 
 19 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 despair on finding himself alone in the woods in the 
 night; his fear at the approach of the wild beasts; what 
 he had learned from their conversation; and how, after 
 wards, he had made a fortune in marrying the daughter 
 of the Marquis of Fourmagne. Overlooking past griev 
 ances, he gave Batiste a considerable sum of money and 
 dismissed him. 
 
 "Madame Louiset, with feminine curiosity, wanted to 
 know who that beggar was; but Louiset put her off 
 with : ' Only one of the many workmen in need,' and 
 the stranger was never seen or mentioned again. 
 
 " Batiste was hardly out of his brother's presence 
 when he said to himself: 
 
 " 'Why should I not go to the tree? The same animals 
 will be sure to come, and they may tell other secrets 
 which will be useful to me.' 
 
 " No sooner said than done. Batiste made his way to 
 the tree ; and on the evening of the first of May, we 
 find him perched up on the branches, waiting for the 
 animals to come. 
 
 " This time they did not exchange compliments when 
 they met. On the contrary, there were many harsh 
 words of reproach for the traitors who had let out their 
 secrets. Such villainy had never been known before 
 among the animal tribes. Some of their number must 
 have betrayed the confidences of the last meeting, and, 
 from words, they came to blows about it. The noise was 
 frightful. The uproar shook the branches. Terrified,
 
 A Blind Man's Story 191 
 
 Batiste tried to climb higher, when the rustle of leaves 
 and swaying of a branch, betrayed him : 
 
 " Some one in the tree ! " shouted a signal. " Some 
 one in the tree ! Some one in the tree ! " was caught up 
 by many voices. 
 
 At this cry the tumult ceased, and they all listened 
 for another sound. Batiste was by this time chattering 
 with fright, so that the branch creaked under him. 
 
 " Our betrayer is in the tree ! Our betrayer is in the 
 tree ! " spread the angry cry. 
 
 Immediately an immense bear came out of the herd 
 and climbed the tree and made for Batiste with all dis 
 patch, he was shaking like an aspen-leaf behind a big 
 branch, gave him a terrific blow with one paw, and 
 sent him crashing down through the branches into the 
 midst of the herd of furious animals, who made short 
 work of him. And so, pecaire! he was torn to pieces 
 and devoured by the very beasts to which he had deliv 
 ered his brother. 
 
 And the cock crew, and the story ended.
 
 19 2 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 ALMOST always after a thrilling narrative, a dis 
 mal tale, or a fascinating story, there is a moment 
 of silence. Whether the mind needs rest after the great 
 strain, or whether it inclines to go over what it has 
 heard, that I cannot say, I leave the explanation to 
 more learned men, but the fact remains, that after 
 hearing of the Blind Boy's thrilling adventures, Cypeyre 
 and I walked a long way in silence, and hardly ex 
 changed a word until we reached a spring under a 
 willow-tree. 
 
 Some men were already sitting there in the shade, 
 talking. One was from Manoblet, another from Cazag- 
 nole, a third from Gaian, and others from Brogassarge. 
 They welcomed us, and we soon fell into conversation. 
 I asked tne man from Ga'ian, why the saying goes that 
 misery is always at Gaian ? 
 
 He laughed, and said : " You must be from far, or you 
 would not ask such a question ; we have a family by the 
 name of ' Misery,' very poor and very numerous; so it is 
 not surprising that there is always plenty of misery at 
 Gaian." 
 
 Another spoke up, and said: "I wonder why all vil 
 lages have their nicknames, and how they originated." 
 
 The man from Manoblet, replied : " Those appellations 
 are, many of them, too old to know their origin ; but I 
 believe they came from some village custom, or some
 
 The Tour of France 193 
 
 peculiarity of the people. For instance, they call the 
 Lecquars, ' Brayers of Lecques;' because, at all times of 
 day, you may hear them shouting to the ferryman: 
 'Hey! halloa! come to ferry me across!' 
 
 " They call the villagers of Cannes, ' Shoers of cats,' 
 (ferra cats) ; and the story goes that, once upon a time, 
 the youngsters of Cannes caught all the cats, and stuck 
 nutshells on their feet with pitch, and turned them 
 loose in the streets. You can imagine the fun for the 
 cats and their owners. 
 
 " People of Lunel have long been known as ' Pesca 
 Luna/ (fishers of the moon). Tradition says that some 
 idiotic fellows were trying to fish the moon with a bucket 
 as it was reflected in the canal. As soon as the bucket 
 touched the water, the moon began to dance, and the 
 lookers-on said to the fisher : ' Go slow, or it will get 
 away ! ' And when the water was very still again, and 
 the moon in the bucket, they lifted it very slowly, and 
 tickled as schoolboys, started for the town with the moon 
 in the bucket. Unfortunately, they stopped to get 
 a drink at the tavern of Valatoure. A donkey passed 
 along, saw the bucket on the sidewalk, gulped down the 
 water, and, no doubt, with it the moon. 
 
 " They say ' Passeroun de Soumeire,' (sparrows of 
 Sommieres), and this is why : Some men had loaded a cart 
 with long beams, placed crosswise. When they tried to 
 go through the narrow streets they got stuck, and did 
 not know what to do. The men stood scratching their
 
 194 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 heads, when a sparrow flew past, holding in his bill 
 a straw two feet long. The little sparrow was not 
 as stupid as the three men. It held the straw by one 
 end, and reaching its hole, bisst ! in it went. 
 
 " ' Te ! ' said the brightest of the three ; ' if it had 
 held the straw by the middle, it would have got stuck 
 as we did.' 
 
 " And quickly they laid the beams lengthwise on the 
 cart, and passed through the street with no trouble." 
 
 Each one gave the name of the villages he knew, but 
 there were so many I have forgotten most of them. 
 
 Finally, we all got up and started on our different 
 ways at the same time. Cypeyre and I were bound for 
 the same village, so we journeyed on together, and 
 arrived at sunset. We secured the best two rooms of 
 the inn, where Cypeyre was known, and while supper 
 was being prepared, we strolled through the streets, and 
 took a look at the place. 
 
 "Women were out with brooms sweeping the streets 
 with all their might. Men, with long ladders, were 
 draping the sides of the houses, from eaves to pavement, 
 with sheets, curtains, and tapestry. Girls were coming 
 and going, running this way and that, bringing ever 
 green branches, sprays of bloom, and masses of flowers, 
 seeming to have all the wealth of Nature in May-time 
 at their disposal; while maidens and youths were arrang 
 ing them in festoons and garlands fastened upon the 
 draperies in graceful and artistic designs. The village

 
 The Tour of France 197 
 
 was evidently putting on holiday airs, and we were about 
 to inquire what it all meant, when a cry arose : 
 
 " Help ! Help ! " And a few steps in front of us a 
 woman rushed into the street with hair disheveled and 
 face terrified. 
 
 The women, with their brooms, came to her rescue, 
 with : " What is the matter? What has hurt you ? " 
 
 But before she had time to speak, a man, with a broken 
 stave in his hand, rushed after her, and proclaimed to 
 them all, as if a great joke: 
 
 " My wife 's a silly goose ; she cries because I happen 
 to break a stave ! " and to the wife, consolingly, " Come 
 now, don't make such a fuss over a broken stave ; there 
 are plenty more left." (He was a cooper.) 
 
 " That villain Petaras, he broke the stave on my 
 back! he will surely kill me some day, the wretch!" 
 cried she, while Petaras, all smiles, went into the house 
 with the air of a hero. 
 
 The women all took her part, and crowded around 
 her to hear the whole story. After this tragic scene 
 we returned to the inn, thinking only of the cool brutality 
 of Petaras.
 
 ClK Carriage of 
 monsieur flrcanoel; 
 or, tin Storp or ID* 
 
 GIoucs Of Cousc-Skin.
 
 The Marriage of Monsieur Arcan- 
 
 vel; or, the Story of the 
 
 Gloves of Louse-Skin. 
 
 AFTER supper, while talking of many things, I 
 remarked to the innkeeper that I purposed to set 
 out early the next morning. 
 
 " Why, you do not know, then, what is going to hap 
 pen to-morrow ! " exclaimed he. " We are forbidden to 
 let any stranger leave town. The whole village will be 
 in holiday attire. The expenses of the fete have already 
 been paid. Villagers, strangers, one and all, are bidden 
 to the wedding ; for our squire marries his son to-morrow." 
 
 I sprang to my feet with surprise. 
 
 " But," he continued, " you do not seem to know any 
 thing about our squire. Well, he is the richest man in 
 the country, and the kindest of the rich. He is not 
 proud ; he greets every one he meets, and never fails to 
 inquire ' How d' ye do, and how 's your family.' He 
 daily visits the poor and sick, provides them with all 
 they need, food, fuel, or medicine, and has always a kind 
 word or good advice for the least of us. If any man 
 needs a job, he has only to apply to the squire ; he has
 
 2O2 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 work for every one on his estate, winter and summer ; 
 so we look up to him as our father. Never and nowhere 
 is a better man to be found nay, his equal is yet to be 
 born ! We would any of us go through fire and water 
 for him ; but all we can do is to repay him with kind 
 ness, and we all try to, except that rascal Petaras, who 
 does not care a fig for the squire, and never listens to him. 
 He is the only one who '11 not be present at the wedding." 
 
 I made bold to inquire whether the young man's 
 bride was from a neighboring town. 
 
 " Oh ! " said he, " it is quite a story. If you like, I '11 
 tell it to you. The evening is long; we shall have plenty 
 of time for sleep after I am through ; and I know you will 
 not be sorry to hear the romance, for it will help you 
 to appreciate what you are to see to-morrow." 
 
 " I have already told you that Mr. Arcanvel is very 
 rich. He owns here the finest castle and estate for miles 
 around. He has also many beautiful farms in the 
 mountains, on which graze thousands of cattle. No one 
 knows exactly how may people he emploj^s, either on 
 his home place, or in yonder Cevennes. Most of his 
 income though is derived from his ships on the seas 
 and every year he takes a trip to Paris to receive his 
 dividends. 
 
 " Two or three years ago, when about to set out for 
 Paris, he was taken ill with rheumatism, which laid him 
 up and prevented him from undertaking the journey. 
 His son, a young man of about twenty, well educated,
 
 Monsieur Arcanvel 203 
 
 handsome, and as kind-hearted as his father, had to go 
 in his place. 
 
 " One fine April morning, mounted on a superb 
 horse, he set out on his trip. The first, second, and 
 maybe the third day, all went well. In fine spirits and 
 full of anticipation, our traveler journeyed northward, 
 delighted with the prospect of seeing the capital ; when 
 about three o'clock one afternoon, as often happens in 
 spring, the sky became very cloudy. 
 
 "At first he paid little attention to it; but he soon 
 perceived that the sky was growing black with threaten 
 ing clouds hanging on the hillsides, and a roaring was 
 heard, which grew louder and louder. Soon a great 
 wind arose, and blew so hard as to almost lift him off 
 his horse. Night was approaching, the darkness in 
 creased, and the dust blinded him so that with difficulty 
 he could make out his way. 
 
 "Suddenly there was a flash of lightning, then a 
 second one, then a rapid succession of flashes, followed 
 by a pelting rain, and by the loud and long peals of 
 thunder in the neighboring hills. 
 
 " It was the beginning of a fearful storm, which kept 
 increasing in fury, leveling trees, hurling rocks from the 
 mountain side, and threatening to destroy both horse 
 and rider. 
 
 " Poor boy ! only to think of that fearful ride makes 
 me shudder. I seem to see him yet alone in the dead 
 of night with lightning rending the sky, and making
 
 204 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 the black night blacker yet, with the storm raging about 
 him, and the rain beating down in torrents. 
 
 " The poor boy would surely have been lost, had not 
 a kind Providence taken pity on him and made him 
 discover, suddenly, by a flash of lightning, a large 
 building not far from the road. It was the castle of 
 Serignac, the residence of Baron de Donan, a nobleman 
 with one child a daughter of eighteen. Arcanvel 
 rang the bell of the lodge, and a servant, lantern in 
 hand, came to see what was wanted. When the servant 
 saw that horseman, drenched to the skin, he quickly 
 opened the gate, gave him shelter, and hastened to 
 inform his master. 
 
 "'My Lord/ said he, 'a young man, half-drowned, 
 comes to ask for a night's shelter. What shall I do ? ' 
 
 " ' Welcome him, of course, whoever he may be,' said 
 the Baron; 'order the groom to take the horse to the 
 stable, and see that he is well rubbed down, dried, and 
 fed; and give the young man a warm room and dry 
 clothing.' 
 
 "Young Arcanvel was delighted with all that was 
 done for his comfort, and with the polite and respectful 
 demeanor of the servants towards him, as they lighted 
 a cheerful fire in his room, brought him dry clothing, 
 and a glass of Chartreuse to revive him. 
 
 "'They must know who I am,' said he to himself, ' to 
 treat me like this.' 
 
 " When somewhat rested, and quite dry and warm,
 
 Monsieur Arcanvel 207 
 
 he was shown into the drawing-room, where the Baron 
 awaited him, all impatience to know who the storm- 
 stayed stranger might be. 
 
 " The Baron took the young man by the hand, and 
 inquired whom he had the honor of addressing. 
 
 " ' Mr. Arcanvel, of the castle of Vic/ said that gen 
 tleman, with an apology for giving his host so much 
 trouble. 
 
 " ' Oh ! ' replied the Baron, ' you do not inconvenience 
 me in the least, you are very welcome, Sir.' Then turn 
 ing to Lisette, the servant : ' Tell my daughter to come 
 and have supper served at once, for Mr. Arcanvel needs 
 refreshments, after his hard experience.' 
 
 " A moment later the young lady appeared, timid, but 
 charming. They were introduced to each other, and, 
 after exchanging a few polite words, they repaired to the 
 dining-room. 
 
 " During the supper they talked a little of everything, 
 as usual, agriculture, industry, commerce, science, art, 
 navigation, and lightly touched on politics. The young 
 Arcanvel showed himself well informed on all subjects; 
 he spoke, indeed, as if he had the mature experience of 
 an older man. The Baron was pleased and surprised 
 to find so much wisdom and knowledge in the stranger. 
 
 " Arcanvel told the object of his journey to Paris, 
 mentioned his father's illness and his own suffering dur 
 ing the storm, ' to which I now owe,' said he gracefully, 
 ' the pleasure of sitting at your lordship's table.' All
 
 208 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 this was so well said, in a pleasant voice and modest, 
 refined manner, that the Baron could not help remarking 
 to himself: ' That young man is smart, and he has had 
 the right training.' 
 
 " Young Arcanvel was attentive and polite to Miss de 
 Donan, as becomes a well-bred youth, and he made so 
 good an impression on the father that it was very late 
 when they bade each other a good-night. 
 
 "The next morning, when the servant called Mr. 
 Arcanvel to breakfast, he found him in a burning fever. 
 He had evidently taken cold. The Baron at once sent 
 for his family physician, who pronounced it a case of 
 pneumonia. Mr. Arcanvel's sickness was an event to be 
 ever remembered at the castle. The physician did not 
 leave his patient for a minute. He gave all the 
 remedies known to science; he administered all the 
 herbs of St. John, and applied all sorts of lotions; but, 
 in spite of all that, for three or four days the young 
 man's life hung by a thread. The Baron was in despair, 
 he gave up all hope. On the ninth day, however, 
 there was a change, and on the tenth a slight improve 
 ment, and on the day following he was declared out of 
 danger by the physician, and orders were given for the 
 best care and perfect quiet, to prevent a relapse. The 
 Baron had the orders carried out strictly, and insisted 
 on overdoing, rather than to allow any neglect of the 
 patient during convalescence. 
 
 " The young man's vitality carried him through, and
 
 Monsieur Arcanvel 209 
 
 he improved rapidly. When he was able to take walks 
 in the garden, the Baron permitted his daughter to cheer 
 the invalid with her company, and the two were together 
 a great deal, accompanied always by the maid, Lisette. 
 
 " Naturally, a friendship sprang up from this contact 
 of two noble minds and pure hearts. The servants gos 
 siped about them, of course; but Lisette, who was always 
 present, declared there was no lovemaking. 
 
 " In spite of this, time and constant companionship 
 were having their effect. The morning of the departure 
 came, and the saddle-horse was brought to the door. 
 The Baron wished a prosperous and happy journey, and 
 the young man asked leave to kiss the daughter's hand 
 as a token of gratitude. The Baron consented, if Miss 
 de Donan was willing; and there was a graceful bow, 
 a slight mutual pressure of fingers, as they were brought to 
 the lips, and no one has ever known what passed through 
 those fingers like an electric current, or what those two 
 were thinking about as the horse's speed separated them ; 
 but, as for the Baron, he seemed to experience a great 
 satisfaction on seeing his protege start off rosy and well. 
 His face seemed to say : ' You see, it is I who cured 
 him.' And taking his daughter by the hand, they went 
 into the park, climbed a stone bench, and waved their 
 adieus as long as their cavalier was in sight, and he 
 waved his hat until lost to view. 
 
 " After the departure of Arcanvel, all at the castle 
 returned to their accustomed ways, excepting Miss de
 
 2io Tales of Languedoc 
 
 Donan, who kept rising early, assisting Lisette in setting 
 the table and in putting the parlor in order, as she did 
 when she expected Arcanvel to breakfast. 
 
 " Her father noticed this, and thought to himself: 
 ' My daughter is not the same girl since that boy set 
 his foot in my house. Before his coming she was 
 careless and childish; she had to be called an hour 
 before breakfast, and was always late. Now she rises 
 early, dresses quickly, sets her hand to everything, and 
 is as alert as a gazelle. That 's what it is to keep com 
 pany with people of good manners and education. In 
 the company of that young man she has improved a hun 
 dred per cent. ; she has become elegant, like her dear 
 mother she has her voice and feature, but not her 
 disposition. 
 
 "'My wife was a good woman, but obstinate, and 
 when she was set on a thing, she was set, and there was 
 no budging her. 
 
 " ' My daughter has my disposition ; she is all meek 
 ness and submission.' 
 
 " Poor Baron! Little did he suspect that his agreeable 
 guest had sown in the heart of his daughter a seed 
 which would become a great tree, and which all his 
 paternal influence could not succeed in uprooting. 
 
 " The Baron was a widower, I have already said. The 
 Baroness had died when their child was young, so 
 a nurse had to be found. It happened that Lisette, 
 a poor woman of good family, had just lost her husband
 
 Monsieur Arcanvel 211 
 
 and an only child, and the Baron sent for her and gave 
 her entire charge of the little girl; she is with them 
 yet, as Miss de Donan's maid. 
 
 " One day, when the child was about three years old, 
 the nurse was combing her hair, and found two lice. 
 She placed them on a white cloth, and gave the child 
 a lesson in cleanliness; but she was delighted, took them 
 to her father, and asked if she might tame them. 
 
 " ' What an idea ! ' said the father ; but, as he never 
 refused her anything, he let her keep them. They were 
 placed in a box and fed on raw meat. They grew to an 
 enormous size, and had a beautiful skin of soft, reddish- 
 gray, like a mole's, sleek and shiny as satin. She kept 
 them for many years. And one summer, when she 
 came home from boarding-school, she asked her father 
 to have gloves made out of their skins. 
 
 " ' That is one of your queer notions,' said her father; 
 but, as usual, yielded to her wish. The poor lice were 
 brought out of their pen and killed, their pelts tanned 
 and made into gloves. She wore those gloves on all 
 great occasions ; they were much admired, and no one, 
 except the Baron and Lisette, could tell of what they 
 were made. 
 
 " About three or four weeks after Mr. Arcanvel left the 
 castle, he wrote a letter to the Baron, telling him of his 
 successful trip to Paris, of his near departure for home, 
 and thanked him once more for his great kindness, and 
 expressed his everlasting gratitude.
 
 212 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 "The Baron was more than pi eased, men are always 
 glad to be thanked for favors they have done, and he 
 sent word at once for young Arcanvel to stop on his way 
 home, which invitation the young man expected, and 
 eagerly accepted. 
 
 " Miss de Donan watched for him early on the morning 
 he was to arrive, and when, from her window, she saw 
 him turn the bend of the road on the top of the hill, 
 she hastened to tell her father, who went to the porter's 
 lodge to meet him, and received him as a father would 
 receive his own son. When Arcanvel met Miss de 
 Donan, it was not without emotion ; but, like a polite 
 and refined gentleman, his self-control kept back what 
 his heart would have prompted him to say. 
 
 " Arcanvel staid but three days at the castle, for his 
 father was anxiously waiting to see him, and to hear 
 all about his son's trip and the settlement of his affairs. 
 Three days were enough, however, for the young people 
 to have an understanding with each other. 
 
 "In her youth, the late Baroness had a dear friend, 
 who married the Marquis de Pieredon five years before she 
 married the Baron. The Marchioness had a son and the 
 Baroness a daughter, and they used to exchange com 
 pliments about their babies. One day, for fun, the 
 Marchioness suggested that the two should be betrothed. 
 "What was said in joke was taken seriously by the Baron 
 and his wife, and they all agreed to remember their 
 promise at the proper time.
 
 Monsieur Arcanvel 213 
 
 " What was more natural than to entertain thoughts 
 of such a prospect! They were dear friends, both of 
 noble family, their fortune about equal, their estates 
 adjoining. It was a dream of happiness long cherished, 
 which the death of the Baroness did not dispel. 
 
 " When the Marquis came to remind the Baron of his 
 old promise, the girl being of marriageable age, and the 
 Baron laid the matter before his daughter as his and 
 her mother's plan for her, Miss de Donan fairly sprang 
 to her feet. The Marquis was old; he was too short; 
 he was no talker ; he was as dark as a mulatto and awk 
 ward as a duck ; was mannerless, and what not. ' I don't 
 want him! I don't want him; I would rather die in 
 the skin of an old maid than to marry him ! ' 
 
 "The poor Baron was dumfounded. He had counted 
 on his daughter's sweetness of temper, on her obedience ; 
 he had always thought her disposition yielding, like 
 his, rather than stubborn, like his wife's; he could 
 hardly believe his eyes that bound of his daughter's 
 surpassed any of his wife's outbreaks. He was discon 
 certed, but still trusted that time and reason would 
 change her mind. Alas ! the poor Baron would find out 
 when her mind was set, it was set, and that she was her 
 mother over again ! 
 
 " One day he ventured to reason with her : ' What are 
 you thinking of to refuse a suitor like the Marquis? His 
 parents are our neighbors and our friends, they have 
 a great name, are richer than we. What more do you
 
 214 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 ask? If he is a few years older than you, what does 
 it matter? A husband had better be older than younger 
 than the wife. Now, if you have any good reason for 
 refusing him, let me know it.' 
 
 " ' Well, father/ said she, ' I do not want to displease 
 you ; I am very sorry to go contrary to your wishes ; but 
 I love Mr. Arcanvel, and I shall not marry if I cannot 
 marry him.' 
 
 " You can have no idea of the Baron's wrath on hear 
 ing this, nor of his vociferations against Arcanvel. He 
 was a blackguard, a traitor, a seducer! That, under 
 a feigned politeness, a seeming gratitude, which he was 
 pleased to call eternal, he should conceal such base vil 
 lainy, one could not conceive ! Such a misalliance 
 would be the everlasting disgrace of the family! Arcan 
 vel! Arcanvel! What is he? A nice man, indeed! 
 If, perchance, he was a scion of the humblest nobleman 
 well, perhaps, it might do but, Arcanvel! a ple- 
 bian ! No ; never would he consent to such a marriage ! 
 
 " From that time on, there was a great coolness 
 between father and daughter. At table during meal 
 time they exchanged not a word. The Baron still 
 hoped, and the daughter became firmer in her determi 
 nation every day. With the cunning of a girl in love, 
 she found means of corresponding with her lover. Her 
 trusty Lisette proved her ally and accomplice. Honest 
 soul as she was, woman-like, she enjoyed mixing in 
 another's love affair; so every morning she met the
 
 Monsieur Arcanvel 215 
 
 postman at the gate of the park, gave him her mistress' 
 letter to mail, and brought back Arcanvel's. Father 
 and daughter lived thus for some time, each one waiting 
 for the other to broach again the burning subject which 
 divided them. 
 
 " One day, the Marquis of Pieredon came to renew 
 his demand for his son, intimating this time that, if a 
 prompt and favorable response was not given, his son 
 would marry another. 
 
 " The Baron found himself compelled to break the 
 silence first. He took her aside, and, with all the self- 
 restraint that a man provoked by an obstinate daughter 
 can command, he pressed the suit again. She would be 
 rich and influential, and her sons would be powerful in 
 the government, and all that. He spake long and ear 
 nestly, using all the tact of a diplomat to obtain her 
 consent. 
 
 " The daughter listened with perfect composure, and 
 when her father had finished, she said, in her natural, 
 calm tone : * Father, for the second time I must tell you 
 that the Marquis does not please me. I am sorry indeed 
 to have to go contrary to your wishes; but I would 
 rather stay single all my life than consent to have the 
 Marquis for a husband.' 
 
 "'Stay single all your life!' exploded the Baron, 
 with anger rising in his throat, and a voice loud enough 
 to raise the roof. 'Stay single all your life! But I 
 insist on your marrying. You think you can drive me
 
 216 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 to let you marry that ungrateful knave Arcanvel. But 
 you shall not have him.' And, with louder tone and 
 threatening gesture, he added : ' You shall rnarry the 
 first man who guesses of what skin your gloves are 
 made, even if that man be a lousy tramp ! ' 
 
 "The Baron thought to frighten his daughter into 
 submission ; but when the sonorous echoes of his voice 
 had died away, she calmly looked up in his face, and 
 said : ' I accept, on one condition the Marquis shall 
 not be a competitor.' 
 
 " To this the Baron agreed, and soon through all the 
 country it was known that on the first of May the 
 birthday of Miss de Donan, at ten o'clock in the morn 
 ing, all the suitors for her hand should rendezvous at 
 the castle for the great guessing contest. 
 
 " All sorts of men men from every station in life 
 young men, old men, rich men, poor men, noble, peasant, 
 and beggar were invited to try their luck. 
 
 "The Baron hoped by the first of May to see his 
 daughter change her mind and marry the Marquis, 
 rather than take her chances of wedding the first-comer. 
 In this he was also deceived. Miss de Donan awaited 
 the day with a lover's impatience, confident that Mr. 
 Arcanvel would come and win her. 
 
 " Early in the morning, on May first, they began to 
 arrive, by twos and by fours men from the country 
 around. The well-to-do rode in buggies and dog-carts ; 
 the rich were driven in fine equipages by liveried ser-
 
 
 Monsieur Arcanvel 217 
 
 vants ; the farmers rode their work-horses ; some peasants 
 even came on donkeys. But by far the greater number 
 came on foot. 
 
 " By ten o'clock, this motley crowd of bachelors, 
 widowers, or whatever some with a foot scarcely out 
 of the cradle, and others already with one foot in the 
 grave had filled the court to overflowing. 
 
 " The most conspicuous figure of them all was a mendi 
 cant, with a dirty wide-brimmed hat on his head, long, 
 greasy locks which fell to his shoulders and half-hid his 
 face. He wore a gray linen shirt, which reached to his 
 ears, and a cheap serge coat. He carried a pack on his 
 back, and a gourd-shell hung at his left side; in his 
 right hand was an immense cudgel, and on his feet were 
 hobnailed wooden shoes, so heavy and clumsy that, 
 when he walked on the paved court, one would have 
 said it was the tread of a gendarme's horse. 
 
 "The whole crowd stared at him, but all avoided 
 contact for fear of the vermin which might find refuge 
 under his hat. 
 
 " From early dawn, Lisette had been on the watch 
 for Mr. Arcanvel. She was greatly disappointed not to 
 see him in the courtyard. 
 
 " Precisely as the last stroke of ten from the ancestral 
 clock in the hall died away, the Baron stepped to the 
 landing of the courtyard stairs and said curtly : ' Gentle 
 men, the time for the contest has arrived. Please enter.' 
 
 " The servants in charge of the suitors took them
 
 2 1 8 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 one by one to Miss de Donan's boudoir, where she 
 awaited them with the precious gloves on. As each one 
 came in, he bowed to the young lady, looked at the 
 gloves, gave his guess, and went out. 
 
 " By twelve o'clock they had all tried but one; yet 
 none had given the right guess. This pleased the Baron, 
 who would have been very sorry to see his daughter led 
 away by any of them. It pleased also the daughter, 
 who still hoped that at the very last minute Arcanvel 
 would appear. 
 
 " The big dirty beggar, who until now had made no 
 attempt, reached the door to enter. The servants barred 
 the way, and bade him begone. 
 
 " The Baron was appealed to. Being a man of his 
 word, he said : ' I wish no discrimination. This contest 
 is open to all. So take him to my daughter.' 
 
 " Perforce, the servants had to obey, and the beggar 
 went in, halting and hobbling. His ironclad sabots 
 slid on the wax floor, and he plunged in all directions, 
 while the servants were splitting their sides with laugh 
 ter, and the fine furniture was in danger. Finally, he 
 reached the boudoir, and said in a stentorian voice: 
 ' Show me your gloves, please, Miss.' 
 
 " More dead than alive for fear that this one would 
 guess right, the poor miss lifted her hand for the beggar 
 as she had done for the others. 
 
 " ' Well,' said he, 'your gloves are made of louse-skin. 
 I have seen so many in my hat.'
 
 
 Monsieur Arcanvel 221 
 
 " When it was known that the beggar had guessed 
 right, all those who had not yet departed were for kicking 
 the fellow out of the yard ; and they advised the Baron 
 not to give his daughter to such a dirty lout. 
 
 " The Baron had a high sense of honor, and he 
 replied to them : ' I cannot break my word with this 
 man. I give my consent to her going with him. It 
 now rests with her to say what she will do.' 
 
 " Miss de Donan, fearing the Marquis more than the 
 beggar, said : ' My word is also given. I submit to my 
 fate.' 
 
 " Asking her future husband's permission to prepare 
 for her departure, she retired to her room, hastily got 
 a few things together, and came out ready to go. In 
 a firm voice, with dry eyes, and a face set with strong 
 resolution, she met her father coldly, bade him good-by, 
 and left. 
 
 " Lisette hung to her neck and tried to detain her, 
 but gently disengaging herself, she started off with her 
 beggar. They crossed the courtyard where as a child 
 she had so often played ; they traversed the garden in 
 which her favorite flowers bloomed ; they hastened 
 through the park under the shade of stately trees where 
 she had dreamed her maiden dreams and pledged her 
 love to Arcanvel. At the great iron gate she shook 
 hands with the porter, and, without even turning round, 
 passed out into the dusty road, to follow the destinies of 
 a man she knew not, and to follow him whithersoever he 
 would choose to lead her.
 
 222 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 " Put yourself in the place of the poor maiden, and, 
 if you have any heart, you will understand what she 
 must have felt. For Arcanvel she had given up the 
 most brilliant marriage and all that goes with it com 
 fort, ease, luxury, and he had basely chosen to stay 
 away from the guessing contest, and abandon her to the 
 tender mercies of a dirty beggar. 
 
 " To describe her feelings, or depict her anguish, 
 would require a talent far superior to mine, and a far 
 deeper experience of life than I possess. 
 
 " The beggar and the bride walked for some time in 
 silence, side by side. Presently, he asked her if walking 
 tired her too much. She curtly replied, ' No, thanks.' 
 They kept on their march until about sundown, when 
 they came to a thrashing-floor with several stacks of 
 straw. They sat at the foot of one for some time ; then 
 the beggar said : ' Wait for me here while I go to yonder 
 farmhouse to get something to eat.' 
 
 " He went, and soon returned, carrying a small basket 
 in one hand. To her surprise, he took out of it a clean 
 napkin, two mutton-chops, still smoking hot, a bottle of 
 wine, and two crystal goblets. 
 
 " ' Eat,' said he, ' you must be hungry.' 
 
 " The conditions of her leaving home, and the emo 
 tion she had gone through had taken away her appetite; 
 but to oblige her courtly beggar, she ate part of a cutlet, 
 drank a sip of wine, and waited patiently until her com 
 panion had finished. He took back the basket to the
 
 Monsieur Arcanvel 223 
 
 farmhouse, and returned to make preparations for the 
 night. 
 
 " Where and how the night was to be spent, was 
 a question which filled her heart with terror. The beg 
 gar said nothing, but with his two hands went to work 
 and dug a hole in the straw-stack, deep and wide enough 
 for one person to lie comfortably in. Then he pulled 
 out of his pack a woolen blanket and a clean, white, 
 sheet. These he carefully spread out on the straw inside 
 the hole. 
 
 " ' You may go in and lie down and rest, while I sleep 
 outside/ he said. 
 
 " She, who was accustomed to all the comforts of 
 a bed of luxury, and to all the little attentions of a faith 
 ful maid, crawled into the hole in the stack at the bid 
 ding of a tramp ! 
 
 " She had a few broken naps on that never-to-be-for 
 gotten night. At the break of dawn, the beggar, who 
 was guarding near the entrance to the hole, stepped 
 away, and only returned when Miss de Donan came out 
 with her toilet made. Taking out of his bag a modest, 
 but clean breakfast, he offered it to his companion, who 
 'took a little food, and set out with him on their journey. 
 
 " They walked without talking much ; but the beggar 
 was very considerate and attentive to her little wants. 
 A few days were thus spent journeying. Resolved to 
 ask no questions, and to bear her fate without a mur 
 mur, she blindly followed him in a ceaseless march.
 
 224 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 " One afternoon, as they were crossing a magnificent 
 wood, they came upon some very large flocks of sheep, 
 ewes and lambs. Under a large tree, sitting on the soft 
 grass, one of the shepherds was playing his fife. He 
 drew from his rude instrument the most melodious 
 sounds. The distant woods echoed the simple melody, 
 and Miss de Donan stopped to listen, delighted. The 
 beggar, unnoticed by her, was watching her every motion, 
 while he stepped to the tree and spoke to the shepherd : 
 ' You fellows must have little trouble with your flocks, 
 or you would not be piping away so merrily.' 
 
 "'Yes/ said the boy; 'my leaders are well trained. 
 I would have little to do, and should be perfectly happy, 
 if it were not for that mean black sheep yonder. She is 
 as cunning as a fox, and gives me no end of trouble. 
 So long as my eye is on her, she stays with the flock ; 
 but let me turn my back, and off she is poaching on the 
 neighboring wheat-fields. I have been at my master to 
 sell her; but he won't hear to a word of it, for she was his 
 child's pet lamb.' 
 
 " ' What is your master's name,' inquired the beggar. 
 
 " ' Don't you know who my master is ? Mr. Arcanvel ! 
 All these woods belong to him. All the flocks you have 
 seen are his. He is the richest man in the country.' 
 
 "At the name of Arcanvel, Miss de Donan's eyes 
 filled with tears. 
 
 " The beggar noticed it, and hastened to say : ' Do not 
 worry ; you will be very comfortable at the house. Let 
 us proceed on our way.'
 
 Monsieur Arcanvel 227 
 
 " On that same day, they came across large wheat-fields, 
 so great in extent that the eye could not compass them. 
 
 " ' Do you see those wheat-fields,' said he to her. ' They 
 are Mr. Arcanvel 's!' 
 
 " Another tear moistened her eye, and he again 
 hastened to say: 'Don't worry; you will be very com 
 fortable at the house. Let us proceed on our way.' 
 
 " Farther on, they passed by an immense vineyard, 
 with fully a hundred men at work in it. Some of the 
 men seemed in a very happy mood, for they were singing 
 or whistling ; others had fallen out with their teams, and 
 were swearing at them ; and still others were merely 
 intent on their work, cleaning the ploughshares at the 
 end of the furrows. 
 
 t{ This animated scene seemed greatly to interest Miss 
 de Donan. 
 
 " The beggar noticed it, and broke out again with : 
 ' Do you see this vineyard ? Well, it is the property of 
 Mr. Arcanvel.' 
 
 " A blush crimsoned her cheek. 
 
 "'Don't worry,' for the third time, said the beggar; 
 ' you will be very comfortable at the house. Let us pro 
 ceed on our way.' 
 
 " They walked a while, and found themselves in the 
 midst of an immense luxuriant meadow, and they saw 
 many men with scythes mowing the grass, and other 
 men carting away the dry and fragrant hay. "Women 
 and girls were raking after the carts and bantering with
 
 228 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 each other, singing gayly to the breeze of that perfect 
 May-day, and sending forth to the hills their peals of 
 merry laughter. 
 
 " This time, Miss de Donan was first to speak ; and, 
 addressing the beggar, she said : ' Doubtless, all these 
 meadows must belong to Mr. Arcanvel.' 
 
 '"Yes, yes, and many more besides. But don't 
 worry; you will be very comfortable at the house/ 
 responded her companion. 
 
 " A moment later a magnificent castle was seen 
 through the trees. 
 
 " Said the beggar : ' Yonder, behind the trees, is Mr. 
 Arcanvel's castle.' 
 
 " ' Don't let us go there,' piteously entreated Miss de 
 Donan. 
 
 " She did not want to meet the man she fondly loved, 
 just at this juncture, when her emotion was so great, 
 and the beggar at her side so dirty. 
 
 "' Why not?' replied the mendicant quietly. 'He is 
 a very charitable man; he will certainly give us some 
 thing to eat. Let us go.' 
 
 " In her confusion, she found no ready excuse, and so, 
 willy-nilly, on she was led towards the castle. 
 
 "From the gate started many avenues and alleys 
 diverging in different directions through the park. The 
 main one leading to the castle was lined with majestic 
 sycamores, hoary with age. On each side of this avenue 
 were diverging alleys of pine-trees, and the breeze playing
 
 Monsieur Arcanvel 231 
 
 through them, gave soft, restful sounds. About the pine- 
 trees were a great variety of shrubs. 
 
 " They had hardly got within the park gate, when 
 the beggar turned toward Miss de Donan and said, 
 pointing to a bush in one of the pine alleys: ' Te! rest 
 under yonder bush and wait for me. I will be back soon.' 
 
 " She did as she was told, and waited. In about half 
 an hour she heard the rumbling of carriage-wheels on 
 the smooth gravel road. At the thought that it might 
 be Mr. Arcanvel her poor heart began to beat almost to 
 breaking. She hid as well as she could, that she might 
 see and not be seen. 
 
 " The carriage reached the gate, but, instead of pass 
 ing through, a handsomely dressed young man pulled 
 his fine iron-gray team into the pine alley, drew up rein 
 in front of her bush, and quickly alighted. It was Mr. 
 Arcanvel himself! She recognized him, and, overcome 
 with emotion, fainted. He caught her in his arms, 
 bore her gently to the carriage, and drove at once to the 
 castle. 
 
 " Miss de Donan came to herself in a sumptuously 
 furnished room. Maids were attending, with smell 
 ing-salts and cordials, and bathing her head with a 
 restorative. 
 
 " Beside her soft couch knelt Mr. Arcanvel. She gazed 
 on her surroundings as in a sweet dream ; then an ex 
 pression of pain crossed her features, and she faintly 
 asked for the beggar.
 
 232 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 " Of beggar there was none, other than Mr. Arcanvel, 
 who, to avoid detection, had dressed himself in the 
 garments of one of his shepherds, donned a wig and 
 beard, and made himself as grimy and unkempt as 
 possible. 
 
 " When the truth dawned upon her bewildered senses, 
 she drew him gently to her, clasped her white hands 
 about his sinewy neck, and whispered with charming 
 emotion : ' Oh, my love, my love, how much anguish 
 my poor heart has suffered ! Oh, crudest and dearest of 
 lovers, what have I not endured for thy sake! ' 
 
 " ' Be calm, my love. Later I will explain it all to 
 you,' said Arcanvel, passionately. 
 
 " The following day, Monsieur Arcanvel Senior set 
 out early for the Baron's. He went with many misgiv 
 ings, but found a meeker gentleman than he expected. 
 The Baron had been harsh and unyielding as long as 
 his daughter was with him ; but, as soon as she had left 
 with the beggar, remorse entered his heart. He was not 
 willing to call her back, but he sent out spies who brought 
 him a daily report of their wanderings; and when he 
 heard that she was at the castle of the Arcanvels, a 
 great weight fell from his shoulders. 
 
 "Hardly was Monsieur Arcanvel introduced, when 
 the Baron exclaimed : ' I know what brings you here. 
 You have been shrewder than I. Your son has played 
 me a smart trick. "Well, I forgive him and her as 
 well. Now, sir, when shall we celebrate the wedding?'
 
 Monsieur Arcanvel 233 
 
 " ' When it may please you, sir,' replied the former. 
 'Would the twenty-fifth of May be too early?' And 
 the twenty -fifth that is, to-morrow was agreed 
 upon." 
 
 " But why did not Mr. Arcanvel make himself known 
 sooner to Miss de Donan ? " I asked. 
 
 " Why? Well, you are like many people who blame 
 him and charge him with needless cruelty. They say 
 that after the Guessing Contest, he ought to have made 
 himself known, or at least as soon as they had left the 
 castle. Now, Mr. Arcanvel is a man of tact and good sense. 
 To act as he did he must have had good reason. 
 
 " It is my notion that to have made himself known 
 right after the guessing match would have got him into 
 trouble. The Baron would have suspected a plot, flown 
 into a rage with his daughter, and most likely prevented 
 her from leaving the castle. If Arcanvel had announced 
 himself after leaving the castle with the girl, it might 
 have lessened the distance that he meant to keep be 
 tween them until he could claim her before the world as 
 his bride. Arcanvel has never explained it to any one 
 but Miss de Donan, and she has forgiven him. If any 
 body wants to find fault with him, let him do better if 
 he can, I say. 
 
 " As soon as the wedding-day was settled, invitations 
 were sent out to all the villagers, all the strangers, and 
 the whole aristocracy of the country. You will see to 
 morrow the Cornte de Barbusse, the- Marquis de Garigue-
 
 234 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 basse, the Baron de Fonseniale, the Chevalier de Pio 
 Grand, the Sire de St. Geli, and many others. 
 
 " The castle is being repaired from cellar to garret. 
 There are perhaps one thousand workmen at it. I 
 have not seen the preparations; but everybody agrees 
 in saying that to-morrow will be a day never to be for 
 gotten. They say that all the fountains have been 
 stopped, and the reservoirs cleared of moss and swept 
 perfectly clean, because the Baron wants the basins so 
 clear that the young couple shall see their reflections in 
 them." 
 
 The innkeeper ceased talking, looked at the clock 
 and said : 
 
 " It is late. You must be tired. You had better go 
 to bed and sleep soundly until to-morrow." 
 
 He arose, shook me by the hand, gave me a Roman 
 lamp, and I went to my room. 
 
 I was not long in going to sleep ; my day's tramp 
 had fatigued me. And I had taken only one stitch, 
 when the bourn ! bourn I of the firing of anvils awoke 
 me. The sun was already high. I hastened to dress, 
 and went down stairs. The game-keeper of the castle 
 was about the street inviting the new-comers to the wed 
 ding. He had found two merchants of Toulouse linen, 
 one merchant of St. Quintin's porcelain, one onion-ven 
 der, a knife-grinder, and Matthiou, a ragman. We all 
 set out for the castle. 
 
 By ten o'clock everything was ready; the guests were
 
 Monsieur Arcanvel 235 
 
 all at the castle, and the gay procession began to form. 
 They were to march through the village to the church, 
 where the ceremony was to be performed, and back 
 again to the castle. A master of ceremonies arranged 
 everything to perfection. Four maidens arrayed in 
 white, carrying huge bouquets, led the way; then came 
 Baron de Donan and his daughter, young Arcanvel and 
 his mother, M. Arcanvel and a sister of the Baron, the 
 provost, the relations and guests in order of rank, then 
 myself and a cousin of the provost, the villagers with 
 their wives, and finally a lame and a blind man wound 
 up the rear of the long and gorgeous procession. 
 
 Children in holiday attire lined the streets of the 
 village, clapping their hands as we passed and shout 
 ing, " Long live the bride and groom! " The gentlemen 
 pelted the children with dragees and bon-bons, a lively 
 scramble began. Like a flock of birds, they fell on the 
 dragees, all in a heap, were up in a flash, and were rush 
 ing pell-mell after another handful scattered in another 
 direction. 
 
 At church not a third of the invited guests could 
 find room ; the rest found diversion outside. The Sire 
 de St. Geli, an elderly bachelor, who was fond of girls 
 and jokes, held up a pretty cornucopia filled with choice 
 candy, and adorned with ribbons, and announced that 
 it was the prize for the girl who would be bold enough 
 to kiss him. 
 
 Laughter and cheers greeted the Sire's proposal, but
 
 236 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 became an uproar when a dozen maidens fell on the 
 bachelor's neck, to his great confusion and embarrass 
 ment. 
 
 When the bridesmaids emerged from the church they 
 were followed by the newly married pair; the procession 
 reformed and began the return march. The village 
 wives had slipped from the ranks, and all through the 
 narrow village streets we were showered with rose leaves, 
 violets, and bouquets of fragrant flowers, which fell on 
 our heads from the upper windows, and covered the 
 ground at our feet. 
 
 When we reached the castle, the bridal pair passed 
 into the grand reception-room, and there, under a canopy 
 of flowers, received congratulations from everybody, 
 great and small, high and low; and then all went to 
 partake of the wedding feast. 
 
 M. Arcanvel, who never did anything by half, had 
 an immense tent erected on the lawn to supplement the 
 dining-room. It was made of a silken fabric, adorned 
 with drapery and paintings, and the tables, spread with 
 the richest of linen and china, fairly groaned with the 
 weight of the feast. To tell you about all the dishes 
 served and the wines drunk would take too long; besides, 
 I cannot remember half the names on the menu; but we 
 were four hours at table, and at the end of the repast 
 we suddenly discovered that the fountains in the park 
 were playing jets of wine. A murmur of wonder and 
 admiration spread through all the company as they wit-
 
 Monsieur Arcanvel 237 
 
 nessed the sight. The slender columns of red nectar 
 reaching the leaves of the trees and falling back in drop 
 lets and spray, seen through the oblique rays of the 
 afternoon sun, was the most fairy-like thing I have ever 
 seen. 
 
 A troop of musicians, ensconced in a clump of trees, 
 discoursed sweet music, and the rising and falling mur 
 murs of the waters flowing over the rocky river-bed 
 added their charms to the scene. 
 
 Dancing followed the feast, and illuminations fol 
 lowed the fading day. Through the open house and 
 grounds we strolled in pairs and groups, viewing the 
 beautiful sights and joining in the merrymaking until 
 a late hour, when, amidst shouts of blessing and praise 
 to the newly married pair and to the good squire, so 
 much beloved by his people, the crowd dispersed. 
 
 Such a wedding was the talk of the country for months 
 afterwards, and it became proverbial for its splendor and 
 for the great number of guests. 
 
 All of us went away greatly delighted, agreeing that 
 it was the event of our lives. The blind man said that 
 in all his life he had not seen such a day. Matthiou, the 
 rag-peddler, was a little gay, no wonder! the water 
 had been changed to wine, went about the village 
 street shouting his " rags, sacks, and bottles " at an un 
 seasonable hour of the morning. Going to bed very 
 late, of course, I slept most of the following morning, 
 breakfasted as usual, and sauntered out for a walk.
 
 238 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 There were no portentous omens, and I hope to die if I 
 had the least idea of what was about to happen. 
 
 Strolling about the streets, I happened to see at a 
 window the young lady who was my partner at the wed 
 ding, and on the doorstep, my friend the provost. I was 
 invited in, and the young lady and I were left to our 
 selves. We talked over the wedding and of many other 
 things. How it all happened, I don't exactly know, but 
 before we knew it we had planned our own wedding for 
 the near future. I dined with her and her friends and 
 returned to my inn late in the afternoon. 
 
 The innkeeper, who missed me at dinner, had made 
 inquiries and found out that I was at the provost's. 
 
 "That young fellow is going to make the fatal 
 plunge," he said to his guests. When I appeared, he 
 pretended to be surprised; he circled around me, raised 
 my arms, opened my vest, examined me carefully, to see 
 if there were anything amiss. I saw the twinkle in his 
 eye and let him go on. Then, with mock seriousness, 
 he said: 
 
 " Come now, this is not fatal ! I see no blood ; the 
 arrow only went skin deep. If it had reached the heart 
 you had been lost." 
 
 " Oh," I laughed, " people don't die of that, not 
 immediately at least." 
 
 " No," said he, prophetically ; "but men are like moths 
 that circle round the flame; they draw closer and closer, 
 until they burn their wings."
 
 Monsieur Arcanvel 239 
 
 The day after my betrothal, I started on iny way home. 
 It was sunrise in the month of May. The plain along 
 the river bank was dripping wet. On every leaf and 
 blade hung a dewdrop that turned into a diamond in 
 the sunlight. It looked as if a shower of brillants had 
 fallen. As the sun rose higher, they disappeared one 
 by one; they went to freshen the roots as they had 
 refreshed the foliage. That set me thinking, and from 
 thinking I fell to rhyming thus: 
 
 Lou diaman briia san n' estr 'uti!6, 
 
 Se briian san fai'rS inaT, 
 
 S6n coumma 1' estela qu6 fila, 
 
 Que fila, fila, e" sen va'u 
 
 M6 se penddn nosta carriiera, 
 
 S&n utiles tout en briian, 
 
 Avan d' intra din la poussiiera, 
 
 Aouren fa un traval ben gran'.* 
 
 With great earnestness and a slight quaver in his 
 voice, my white-haired grandfather had uttered those 
 few lines of poetr}^. 
 
 We were all silent, and not a sound could be heard 
 save the crackling of the olive-tree leaves in the fire 
 place and the monotonous tick of the big clock on the 
 landing of the stone stairs. 
 
 *The diamonds useless shine, 
 Man strives for glitter-gains. 
 Like shooting-stars we fall 
 A flash, and that is aii. 
 So let us shape our course 
 For oetter, not for worse, 
 And snow and shine combine 
 With deed and work divine.
 
 240 Tales of Languedoc 
 
 With uplifted eyes we gazed on the bent form and 
 benign face of our story-teller, who with clasped hands 
 pensively watched the ascending sparks in the huge 
 chimney. 
 
 Suddenly the old clock groaned ; there was a rum 
 bling of wheels, and the sound of the bell majestically 
 swelled in the long corridor and ran from arch to arch 
 of the vaulted room. At the same moment, the old 
 cock in the barnyard sent his lusty crowing out into the 
 starry night. 
 
 Those two familiar sounds drew my grandfather out 
 of his reverie; and with a smile I would fain reproduce, 
 and a twinkle from his deeply-set hazel brown eyes, 
 he said : 
 
 " Lou Gal caute, e moun vouiiage finigue."* 
 
 *Thecook crew and my journey ended.
 
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