still calling her Miss Souzie, as of old.




VII.

ODD PARTNERS IN THE BOLERO DANCE.


Only one thing we lacked--mass and Sunday prayers. But on that day the
flatboat remained moored, we put on our Sunday clothes, gathered on deck,
and papa read the mass aloud surrounded by our whole party, kneeling; and
in the parts where the choir is heard in church, Alix, my sister, and I,
seconded by papa and Mario, sang hymns.

One evening--we had already been five weeks on our journey--the flatboat
was floating slowly along, as if it were tired of going, between the
narrow banks of a bayou marked in red ink on Carlo's map, "Bayou Sorrel."
It was about six in the afternoon. There had been a suffocating heat all
day. It was with joy that we came up on deck. My father, as he made his
appearance, showed us his flute. It was a signal: Carlo ran for his
violin, Suzanne for Alix's guitar, and presently Carpentier appeared with
his wife's harp. Ah! I see them still: Gordon and 'Tino seated on a mat;
Celeste and her children; Mario with his violin; Maggie; Patrick at the
feet of Suzanne; Alix seated and tuning her harp; papa at her side; and M.
Carpentier and I seated on the bench nearest the musicians.

My father and Alix had already played some pieces, when papa stopped and
asked her to accompany him in a new bolero which was then the vogue in New