"When in the harvest heat she bore to the reapers at noon-tide
Flagons of home-brewed ale,...
Nut-brown ale, that was famed for its strength in the village of Grand
Pré,"

is too sturdy, as with masculine stride she marches a-field; and that
Constant Meyer's ideal more nearly approaches ours. The one depicts her
in rather Puritanical attire; the other, studying authentic costume,
they say, shows her

"Wearing her Norman cap, and her kirtle of blue, and the ear rings,
Brought in the olden time from France, and since, as an heirloom
Handed down from mother to child, through long generations,"

and seated by the roadside, as,

"with God's benediction upon her,
a celestial brightness--a more ethereal beauty--
Shone on her face and encircled her form."

All along the roads we notice a delicate white blossom, resembling the
English primrose in shape, and one day ask an intelligent looking girl
whom we meet what it is called; she does not know the name, but says the
seed was accidentally brought from England many years ago, and the plant
"has since become quite a pest",--which we can hardly understand as we
enjoy its grace and beauty. We notice that our pleasant informant
follows a pretty fashion of other belles of the village,--a fashion
which suits their clear complexions and bright faces; that is, wearing
a gauzy white scarf around the hat, and in the dainty folds a cluster of