ase the church. The choir is entered from under a rounded
archway, and its dome is loftier than the nave and much more beautiful
than the semi-dome of the apse, whose roof, in these practical modern
times, has been windowed.

That which almost destroys the effect of the church's fine lines and
would be intolerable in a stronger light, is the mass of gilt and
polychrome with which the interior is covered. The altars are
monstrously showy, the walls and buttresses are coloured, and even the
interesting, sculptured figures beneath the corbels have been carefully
tinted. The dead arise with appropriate mortuary pallor, the halo of
Christ is pure gold, and all the draperies of God and His saints are in
true, primary shadings.

From the contemplation of this misuse of paint, and of a sadly misplaced
inner porch of the XVII century, the traveller's attention was recalled
to the old priest. His hand was raised, the eye of every little girl was
fixed on him and instantly, in their soft, shrill voices, they began the
verse of a hymn. The traveller glanced down the nave. Every boy was on
his feet, white ribbons hanging bravely from the right arm, the Crown of
Thorns correctly held in one white-gloved hand, a Crucifix fastened with
a bow of ribbon to the coat lapel. Every eye was on the young priest,
who also raised his hand. Then they sang, as the girls had sung, and
with a right lusty will. And then, under the guiding hands, both boys
and girls sang together. There was a silence when their voices died
away, and from the altar a deep voice slowly chanted "Ite; missa est,"
and the High Mass of the First Communion Day was over.

Outside, little country carts stood near the church, and fathers and
brothers in blue blouses were waiting for the little communicants who
had had so long and so exciting a morning. Walking about with the
crowds, the traveller saw an exterior whose facade was plainly
commonplace and whose bare lateral walls were patched, and crowded by
other walls. Finally he came upon the apse, the most interesting part of
the church's exterior; and he leaned against a cafe wall and looked
across the little square.

Externally, the apse of Saint-Veran has five sides, and each side seems
supported by a channelled column. The capitals of these columns are
carved with leaves or with leaves and grotesques; on them round arches
rest; and above is a narrow foliated cornice. In relieving contrast to
the artificial classicism o