ne, and between the services, he left
his cooking and joined in the dance and song. He was strong, fresh,
and gay as a lark. On leaving a wedding-party, he would go and dig a
grave, or nail down a coffin--a task of which he acquitted himself
with pious care.

We now come to the third and most curious day of the nuptials, which
is still strictly observed. As the ceremony of the _livrees_ is the
symbol of taking possession of the heart and home of the bride, that
of the _chou_ is the type of the fecundity of marriage. After
breakfast the next morning, this performance commenced--a custom of
ancient Gallic origin, which became gradually a sort of Mystery or
Morality of the middle ages. Two lads disappear during the breakfast,
go and dress themselves up, and then return, accompanied by music,
dogs, children, and firing of pistols. They represent a couple of
beggars--husband and wife--covered with rags: they are called the
gardener and his wife (_le jardinier_ and _la jardiniere_), and give
out that they have the charge and the cultivation of the sacred
cabbage. The man's face is bedaubed with soot and wine-lees, or
sometimes covered with a grotesque mask. A broken pot or an old shoe,
suspended to his belt with a bit of string, serves him to beg for and
collect the offerings of wine. No one refuses; and he pretends to
drink, and then pours the wine on the ground, in token of libation. He
now feigns to be tipsy, and rolls in the mud; whilst his poor wife
runs after him, reproaching him pathetically, and calling for help. A
handbarrow is now brought, on which is placed the gardener, with a
spade, a cord, and a large basket. Four strong men carry him on their
shoulders. His wife follows on foot, and the old folks come after with
a grave and pensive air; then the nuptial procession march two by two
to the measure of the music. The firing of pistols recommences, the
dogs bark more loudly than ever at the sight of the gardener thus
borne in triumph, and the children jeer him as he passes. The
procession arrives at the bride's dwelling, and enters the garden.
There a fine cabbage is selected--a matter which is not effected in a
hurry, for the old folks hold a council, each one pleading for some
favourite cabbage. Votes are taken; and when the choice is made, the
gardener ties his cord round the stalk, and retreats to the further
end of the garden, whilst the other actors in the comedy--the
flaxdresser, the grave-digger, the carpen