"The father and the aunt looked on undisturbed. It was the custom. If it
were not adhered to misfortune was sure to attend the little one.

"I scolded, threatened and pleaded. I used force to try to cover the
frail creature. All was in vain. The nurse ran away from me through the
snow, and the body of the little one turned purple. I was about to leave
these brutes when I saw the priest coming across the country, followed.
by the sexton and a young boy. I ran towards him and gave vent to my
indignation. He showed no surprise nor did he quicken his pace in the
least. He answered:

"'What can you expect, sir? It's the custom. They all do it, and it's of
no use trying to stop them.'

"'But at least hurry up!' I cried.

"He answered: 'But I can't go any faster.'

"He entered the vestry, while we remained outside on the church steps. I
was suffering. But what about the poor little creature who was howling
from the effects of the biting cold.

"At last the door opened. He went into the church. But the poor child had
to remain naked throughout the ceremony. It was interminable. The priest
stammered over the Latin words and mispronounced them horribly. He walked
slowly and with a ponderous tread. His white surplice chilled my heart.
It seemed as though, in the name of a pitiless and barbarous god, he had
wrapped himself in another kind of snow in order to torture this little
piece of humanity that suffered so from the cold.