village, the river rushes furiously, the dismantled houses and
gaping walls affording palpable traces of the fearful inundations of
the previous year, not a house near the river was sound, many quite
uninhabitable, and more such as I am sure few of us would like to
inhabit. However, it is Cervieres such as it is, and we hope for
our vin ordinaire; but, alas!--not a human being, man, woman or
child, is to be seen, the houses are all closed, the noonday quiet
holds the hill with a vengeance, unbroken, save by the ceaseless
roar of the river.

While we were pondering what this loneliness could mean, and
wherefore we were unable to make an entrance even into the little
auberge that professed to loger a pied et a cheval, a kind of low
wail or chaunt began to make itself heard from the other side of the
river; wild and strange, yet full of a music of its own, it took my
friend and myself so much by surprise that we almost thought for the
moment that we had trespassed on to the forbidden ground of some
fairy people who lived alone here, high amid the sequestered valleys
where mortal steps were rare, but on going to the corner of the
street we were undeceived indeed, but most pleasurably surprised by
the pretty spectacle that presented itself.

For from the church opposite first were pouring forth a string of
young girls clad in their Sunday's best, then followed the youths,
as in duty bound, then came a few monks or friars or some such folk,
carrying the Virgin, then the men of the place, then the women and
lesser children, all singing after their own rough fashion; the
effect was electrical, for in a few minutes the procession reached
us, and dispersing itself far and wide, filled the town with as much
life as it had before been lonely. It was like a sudden