, as being less trying
to the legs and requiring more brain, and calling on Carette to make their
third, they danced between three caps laid on the floor, in a way that
earned a storm of applause.

Then two of the men danced the broom dance--each holding one end of the
broom and passing it neatly under their arms, and over their heads, and
under their legs, as they danced in quick step to the music.

And, in the intervals of such hard work, we ate--cold meats, cunningly
cooked, and of excellent quality because Aunt Jeanne had bred them herself;
and the best made bread and the sweetest butter in Sercq, and heaps of
spicy gache, all of Aunt Jeanne's own making. And we drank cider of Aunt
Jeanne's own pressing, and equal to anything you could get in Guernsey. And
now and again the men-folk smoked in the doorway, and if the very excellent
tobacco she provided for them was not of her own growing, it was only
because she had not so far undertaken its cultivation, and because tobacco
could be got very cheap when you knew how to get it.

And then we danced again till the walls spun round quicker than ourselves,
and even Uncle Nico's seasoned arms began to feel the strain. And
still--"Faster! Faster!" cried the men, and the girls would not be beaten.
And the ropes of flowers above the green-bed swung as though in a summer
gale, and the roses leaped out and joined in the dance, till the smell of
them, as they were trampled by the flying feet, filled all the room.

Then, while we lay spent and panting, the men mopping themselves with their
kerchiefs, and the girls fanning themselves with theirs, Aunt Jeanne, who
had had time to recover from her unwonted exertions with Uncle Henry
Vaudin, recited some of the old-time poems, of which she managed to carry a
string in her head in addition to all the other odds and ends which it
contained.

She gave us "L' R'tou du Terre-Neuvi opres San Prumi Viage"--

"Mais en es-tu bain seu, ma fille?
Not' Jean est-i don bain r'v'nu?
Tu dis que nou l'a veu en ville,
I m'etonn' qu'i n'sait deja v'nu"--

eighteen long verses, full of tender little touches telling of the
hysterical upsetting in the mother's heart at the safe return of her boy
from the perils of the sea.

And to me, who had just seen it all in my own mother's heart, it struck
right home, and came near to making me foolish in the matter of wet eyes.
And, besides, Aunt Jeanne would keep looking at me, as she reeled