ly as many people outside as in. The
three keepers (Garde de Borny and our two) looked very imposing. They
are all big men, and their belts and gun-barrels bright and shining.
They stood at the doors to keep order. The Mayor, too, was there, in a
black coat and white cravat, but he came up to the top of the church and
sat in the same row with me. He didn't have on his tricoloured scarf,
so I suppose he doesn't possess one.

It was a pretty, simple service. When the cure and his two choir
children in their short, white surplices and red petticoats came up the
aisle, the choir sang the fine old hymn "Adeste Fideles," the
congregation all joining in. We sang, too, the English words ("Oh, come,
all ye Faithful"); we didn't know the Latin ones, but hoped nobody would
notice. There were one or two prayers and a pretty, short address,
talking of the wonderful Christmas night so many years ago, when the
bright star guided the shepherds through the cold winter night to the
stable where the heavenly babe was born. The children listened most
attentively, and as all the boys in the village begin life as shepherds
and cow-boys, they were wildly interested. Then there was a benediction,
and at the end all the children in procession passed before the Enfant
Jesus and kissed his foot. It was pretty to see the little ones standing
up on tip-toe to get to the little foot, and the mothers holding up
their babes. While this was going on, the choir sang the Noel Breton of
Holmes, "Deux anges sont venus ce soir m'apporter de bien belles
choses." There was some little delay in getting the children into
procession again to go down to the school-house. They had been
supernaturally good, but were so impatient to see the Tree that it was
difficult to hold them. Henrietta and Pauline hurried on to light the
Tree. I waited for the Abbe. He was much pleased with the attendance,
and spoke so nicely to all the people.

We found the children all assembled in the small room at the school-house,
and as soon as we could get through the crowd we let them come in. The
Tree was quite beautiful, all white candles--quantities--shiny
ornaments and small toys, dolls, trumpets, drums, and the yellow and
red bags of "dragees" hanging on the branches. It went straight up to
the ceiling, and quite on top was a big gold star, the manufacture of
which had been a source of great tribulation at the chateau. We forgot
to get one in Paris, and sent in hot haste on Wednes