"'My father is sorry, my mother is sad,
And I am a maiden too kind by far
At such an hour my gate to unbar.'"

The men took up the first verse as far as the fourth line and modified
it thus:

"'And a handkerchief new, love.'"

But, on behalf of the bride, the women answered in the same way as at
first.

For twenty couplets, at least, the men enumerated all the
wedding-presents, always mentioning something new in the last line: a
handsome apron, pretty ribbons, a cloth dress, laces, a golden cross,
and even a hundred pins to complete the modest list of wedding-presents.
The refusal of the women could not be shaken, but at length the men
decided to speak of

"A good husband, too, love."

And the women answered, turning toward the bride and singing in unison
with the men:

"'Open the door, true love,
Open the door;
Here's a sweetheart for you, love,
Pray let us enter, too, love.'"

III -- The Wedding

IMMEDIATELY the hemp-dresser drew back the wooden bolt which barred the
door within. At this time it was still the only fastening known in most
of the dwellings of our hamlet. The groom's band burst into the bride's
house, but not without a struggle; for the young men quartered within,
and even the old hemp-dresser and the gossips, made it their duty to
defend the hearth. The spit-bearer, upheld by his supporters, had to
plant the roast before the fireplace. It was a regular battle, although
people abstained from striking, and there was no anger shown in this
struggle. But everybody was pushing and shoving so hard, and there was
so much playful pride in this display of muscular strength, that the
results might well have been serious, although they did not appear so
across the laughs and songs. The poor old hemp-dresser, fighting like a
lion, was pinned to the wall and squeezed by the crowd until his breath
almost left him. More than one champion was upset and trodden under foot
involuntarily; more than one hand, jammed against the spit, was covered
with blood. These games are dangerous, and latterly the accidents have
been so severe that our peasants have determined to allow the ceremony
of the favors to fall into disuse; I believe we saw the last at the
marriage of Francois Meillant, although there was no real struggle on
that occasion.

The battle was earnest enough, however, at Germain's wedding. It was
a point of honor on one side to invade, on the other to de