Homeward serenely she walked with God's benedic tion upon her.

86

When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music.

Firmly builded with rafters of oak, the house of the farmer

Stood on the side of a hill commanding the sea; and a shady

Sycamore grew by the door, with a woodbine wreathing around it.

Rudely carved was the porch, with seats beneath; and a footpath

85

Led through an orchard wide, and disappeared in the

meadow.

Under the sycamore-tree were hives overhung by a penthouse,

Such as the traveller sees in regions remote by the roadside,

Built o'er a box for the poor, or the blessed image of

Mary.

Farther down, on the slope of the hill, was the well with its moss-grown

90

Bucket, fastened with iron, and near it a trough for the horses.

Shielding the house from storms, on the north, were the barns and the farm-yard;

There stood the broad-wheeled wains and the antique ploughs and the harrows;

There were the folds for the sheep; and there, in his feathered seraglio,

93. The accent is on the first syllable of antique, where it remains in the form antic, which once had the same general mean ing.

Strutted the lordly turkey, and crowed the cock, with the selfsame

95

Voice that in ages of old had startled the penitent

Peter.

Bursting with hay were the barns, themselves a vil lage. In each one

Far o'er the gable projected a roof of thatch; and a staircase,

Under the sheltering eaves, led up to the odorous corn

loft.

There too the dove-cot stood, with its meek and innocent inmates

100

Murmuring ever of love; while above in the variant

breezes

Numberless noisy weathercocks rattled and sang of mutation.

Thus, at peace with God and the world, the farmer of Grand-Pré

Lived on his sunny farm, and Evangeline governed his household.

Many a youth, as he knelt in the church and opened

his missal,

105

Fixed his eyes upon her as the saint of his deepest devotion;

99. Odorous. The accent here, as well as in line 403, is upon the first syllable, where it is commonly placed; but Milton, who of all poets had the most refined ear, writes

"So from the root

Springs lighter the green stalk, from thence the leaves

More airy, last the bright consummate flower

Spirits odorous breathes."

Par. Lost, Book V., lines 479-482.

But he also uses the more familiar accent in other passages, as, "An amber scent of odorous perfume," in Samson Agonistes, line 720.

Happy was he who might touch her hand or the hem of her garment!

Many a suitor came to her door, by the darkness befriended,

And, as he knocked and waited to hear the sound of her footsteps,

Knew not which beat the louder, his heart or the knocker of iron;

110

Or, at the joyous feast of the Patron Saint of the vil

lage,

Bolder grew, and pressed her hand in the dance as he whispered

Hurried words of love, that seemed a part of the music.

But among all who came young Gabriel only was welcome;

Gabriel Lajeunesse, the son of Basil the black

smith,

115

Who was a mighty man in the village, and honored

of all men;

For since the birth of time, throughout all ages and

nations,

Has the craft of the smith been held in repute by the people.

Basil was Benedict's friend. Their children from earliest childhood

Grew up together as brother and sister; and Father Felician,

120

Priest and pedagogue both in the village, had taught them their letters

Out of the selfsame book, with the hymns of the church and the plain-song.

122. The plain-song is a monotonie recitative of the collects.

But when the hymn was sung, and the daily lesson

completed,

Swiftly they hurried away to the forge of Basil the blacksmith.

There at the door they stood, with wondering eyes to

behold him

125

Take in his leathern lap the hoof of the horse as a

plaything,

Nailing the shoe in its place; while near him the tire of the cart-wheel

Lay like a fiery snake, coiled round in a circle of cinders.

Oft on autumnal eves, when without in the gathering

darkness

Bursting with light seemed the smithy, through every cranny and crevice,

130

Warm by the forge within they watched the laboring

bellows,

And as its panting ceased, and the sparks expired in the ashes,

Merrily laughed, and said they were nuns going into the chapel.

Oft on sledges in winter, as swift as the swoop of the

eagle,

Down the hillside bounding, they glided away o'er the

meadow.

135

Oft in the barns they climbed to the populous nests on the rafters,

Seeking with eager eyes that wondrous stone, which the swallow

Brings from the shore of the sea to restore the sight of its fledglings;

133. The French have another saying similar to this, that they were guests going into the wedding.

Lucky was he who found that stone in the nest of the swallow!

Thus passed a few swift years, and they no longer were children.

140

He was a valiant youth, and his face, like the face of the morning,

Gladdened the earth with its light, and ripened thought into action.

She was a woman now, with the heart and hopes of a

woman.

"Sunshine of Saint Eulalie " was she called; for that was the sunshine

Which, as the farmers believed, would load their orchards with apples;

145

She too would bring to her husband's house delight and abundance,

Filling it full of love and the ruddy faces of children.

II.

Now had the season returned, when the nights grow colder and longer,

And the retreating sun the sign of the Scorpion en

ters.

139. In Pluquet's Contes Populaires we are told that if one of a swallow's young is blind the mother bird seeks on the shore of the ocean a little stone, with which she restores its sight; and he adds, "He who is fortunate enough to find that stone in a swallow's nest holds a wonderful remedy." Pluquet's book treats of Norman superstitions and popular traits. 144. Pluquet also gives this proverbial saying:

"Si le soleil rit le jour Sainte-Eulalie,

Il y aura pommes et cidre à folie."

(If the sun smiles on Saint Eulalie's day, there will be plenty of apples, and cider enough.)

Saint Eulalie's day is the 12th of February.