first word."

"'She was a prince's daughter...'"

"'Right gladly would she wed,'" answered the hemp-dresser. "Come, move
on to the next; we know that a little too well."

_The Grave-digger_: "How do you like this one?--

"'As I was journeying home from Nantes.'"

_The Hemp-dresser_:

"'Weary, oh, weary, was I, was I.'"

"That dates from my grandmother's time. Let's have another."

_The Grave-digger_:

"'One day I went a-walking...'"

_The Hemp-dresser_:

"'Along a lovely wood!'"

"That one is too stupid! Our little children would n't take the trouble
to answer you. What! Are these all you know?"

_The Grave-digger_: "Oh, we shall sing you so many that you will never
be able to hear them all."

In this way a full hour passed. As the two antagonists were champions
of the country round in the matter of songs, and as their store seemed
inexhaustible, the contest might last all night with ease, all the
more because the hemp-dresser, with a touch of malice, allowed several
ballads of ten, twenty, or thirty couplets to be sung through, feigning
by his silence to admit his defeat. Then the bridegroom's camp rejoiced
and sang aloud in chorus, and thought that this time the foe was
worsted; but at the first line of the last couplet, they heard the
hoarse croaking of the old hemp-dresser bellow forth the second rhyme.
Then he cried:

"You need not tire yourselves by singing such a long one, my
children--we know that one to our finger-tips."

Once or twice, however, the hemp-dresser made a wry face, contracted his
brow, and turned toward the expectant housewives with a baffled air.
The grave-digger was singing something so old that his adversary had
forgotten it, or perhaps had never even heard it; but instantly the good
gossips chanted the victorious refrain through their noses with voices
shrill as a sea-mew's, and the grave-digger, forced to surrender, went
on to fresh attempts.

It would have taken too long to wait for a decision of the victory. The
bride's party declared itself disposed to be merciful, provided that the
bride were given a present worthy of her.

Then began the song of the favors to a tune solemn as a church chant.

The men without sang together in bass voices:

"'Open the door, true love,
Open the door; I have presents for you, love,
Oh, say not adieu, love.'"

To this the women answered from within in falsetto, with mournful
voices: