: all with such gay looks as to show that
something of a more than ordinarily joyous nature was in train. Among
them I recognized the young fellow whom we had met with his wife
carrying away the yule-log; and found that all of them were workmen upon
the estate who--either being married or having homes within walking
distance--were to be furloughed for the day. This was according to the
Provencal custom that Christmas must be spent by one's own fire-side;
and it also was according to Provencal custom that they were not
suffered to go away with empty hands.

Mise Fougueiroun--a plump embodiment of Benevolence--stood beside a
table on which was a great heap of her own _fougasso_, and big baskets
filled with dried figs and almonds and celery, and a genial battalion of
bottles standing guard over all. One by one the vassals were called
up--there was a strong flavour of feudalism in it all--and to each,
while the Vidame wished him a "_Boni festo!_" the housekeeper gave his
Christmas portion: a _fougasso_, a double-handful each of figs and
almonds, a stalk of celery, and a bottle of _vin cue_[2]--the cordial
that is used for the libation of the yule-log and for the solemn
yule-cup; and each, as he received his portion, made his little speech
of friendly thanks--in several cases most gracefully turned--and then
was off in a hurry for his home. Most of them were dwellers in the
immediate neighbourhood; but four or five had before them walks of more
than twenty miles, with the same distance to cover in returning the next
day. But great must be the difficulty or the distance that will keep a
Provencal from his own people and his own hearth-stone at
Christmas-tide!

In illustration of this home-seeking trait, I have from my friend
Mistral the story that his own grandfather used to tell regularly every
year when all the family was gathered about the yule-fire on Christmas
Eve:

It was back in the Revolutionary times, and Mistral the
grandfather--only he was not a grandfather then, but a mettlesome young
soldier of two-and-twenty--was serving with the Army of the Pyrenees,
down on the borders of Spain. December was well on, but the season was
open--so open that he found one day a tree still bearing oranges. He
filled a basket with the fruit and carried it to the Captain of his
company. It was a gift for a king, down there in those hard times, and
the Captain's eyes sparkled. "Ask what thou wilt, _mon brave_," he said,
"and if I c