dear old Cesar and my lovely span.

The girls had decorated the carts with huge bunches of poppies, daisies
and corn-flowers and in addition to these tri-color bouquets, a little
branch of laurel was stuck up over each horse's bridle. There was a
generous distribution of sugar, and each horse was kissed on the tip of
his nose, and then the boys joined the procession on the highroad.

I watched them out of sight. "Shall we ever get through saying
'good-bye'? When will these departures cease?" thought I, as I turned
from the gate. But I was given no time to muse, for a most amazing
clamor arose from a gateway a little higher up the road, and glancing in
that direction, I saw old father Poupard leading his horse and cart into
the open. He was followed by his wife and daughter-in-law, two brawny
peasant women, who were loudly lamenting the departure of their steed!

"No, no!" literally howled mother Poupard.

"This is the last straw! Both sons gone, and now our horse! Who's
going to bring in our crop? The Lord is unjust."

"And brother's babies--poor motherless things--in an orphan asylum at
Epernay! How can we get to them now? Oh, no! Oh, no--" wailed Julia.

"Poupard!" exclaimed his wife, drying her tears on the corner of her
apron and fixing her sharp blue eyes on her husband, "Poupard, no
loitering! If they pay you for your horse, remember, no foolishness.
You bustle back here with the money--we need you to help in the
vineyard."