and Zosephine's memory was as good as any one's. I wish you might have
seen her in those days of the early bud. The time had returned when
Sosthene could once more get all his household--so had marriages
decimated it--into one vehicle, a thing he had not been able to do for
almost these twenty years. Zosephine and Bonaventure sat on a back
seat contrived for them in the family caleche. In front were the
broad-brimmed Campeachy hat of Sosthene and the meek, limp sunbonnet
of _la vieille_. About the small figure of the daughter there was
always something distinguishing, even if you rode up from behind, that
told of youth, of mettle, of self-regard; a neatness of fit in the
dress, a firm erectness in the little slim back, a faint proudness of
neck, a glimpse of ribbon at the throat, another at the waist; a
something of assertion in the slight crispness of her homespun
sunbonnet, and a ravishing glint of two sparks inside it as you got
one glance within--no more. And as you rode on, if you were a young
blade, you would be--as the soldier lads used to say--all curled up;
but if you were an old mustache, you would smile inwardly and say to
yourself, "She will have her way; she will make all winds blow in her
chosen direction; she will please herself; she will be her own good
luck and her own commander-in-chief, and, withal, nobody's misery or
humiliation, unless you count the swain after swain that will sigh in
vain." As for Bonaventure, sitting beside her, you could just see his
bare feet limply pendulous under his wide palm-leaf hat. And yet he
was a very real personage.

"Bonaventure," said Zosephine,--this was as they were returning from
church, the wide rawhide straps of their huge wooden two-wheeled
vehicle creaking as a new saddle would if a new saddle were as big as
a house,--"Bonaventure, I wish you could learn how to dance. I am
tired trying to teach you." (This and most of the unbroken English of
this story stands for Acadian French.)

Bonaventure looked meek for a moment, and then resentful as he said:

"'Thanase does not dance."

"'Thanase! Bah! What has 'Thanase to do with it? Who was even thinking
of 'Thanase? Was he there last night? Ah yes! I just remember now he
was. But even he could dance if he chose; while you--you can't learn!
You vex me. 'Thanase! What do you always bring him up for? I wish you
would have the kindness just not to remind me of him! Why does not
some one tell him how he looks, hoist