Troubadour Tales

by Evaleen Stein

in a fat fleecy ball, layBeppo! Tied about his neck in a huge bow was a crimson ribbon of Lyonstaffeta, with a sprig of holly tucked into its loops.

  Beppo lay quite still, looking about him with a bewildered, half-dazedexpression, and just behind his cart came ten more shepherds withstaves and candles, while following them was a great throng of peasantfolk and children, among them Félix, all carrying lighted tapers, andradiant with delight; for this was the Procession of the Offered Lamb,and to walk in its train was considered by all the greatest honor andprivilege.

  And especially did the shepherd folk love the beautiful old customwhich for centuries the people of Provence had cherished in memory ofthe time, long ago, when the real Christ Child lay in the manger ofBethlehem, and the shepherds of Judea sought him out to worship him,and to offer him their fruits and lambs as gifts.

  And so, on, up the long aisle, the procession slowly moved; the pipersplaying, and Ninette marching solemnly along, only now and then pausingto thrust her nose between the Père Michaud and his companion, whowalked directly in front of her. Ninette pattered on as if she had trodthe floors of churches all her life; and as for Beppo, only once did hestir, and then he gave a faint “Baa!” and tried to uncurl himself andstand up; but just then the queer little cart gave a joggle which quiteupset his shaky lamb legs, and down he sank, and kept quiet throughoutthe rest of the time.

  When the procession reached the altar the musicians stopped playing,and the first two shepherds, kneeling, presented the pigeons and thebasket of fruit; and then the little cart was wheeled up so as to bringBeppo directly in front of all, and the whole company knelt as thepriest blessed the offerings.

  After this beautiful ceremony which ended the service, the playersagain struck up King René’s tune, and the procession, shepherds,Ninette, Beppo, peasants, and all, once more moved on, this time downthe outer aisle and toward the great open portal.

  It took some time for the last of its followers to reach the doorway,for the throng was very great; but at length Félix, who had marchedwith the children in the last group, came to the threshold and steppedout into the starry night.

  He stood for a moment smiling and gazing aimlessly ahead, overwhelmedwith the glory of all that had passed within the church. Presently hefelt some one pluck his sleeve, and turning round, he met the dancingeyes of the little Lady Elinor.

  She gave a little peal of laughter at his surprise, and exclaimed: “Oh,I coaxed _mon père_, the count, to fetch me hither for this blessednight. Thou knowest he promised! I rode my white palfrey all the way bythe side of his big brown horse. And I have seen the procession, andBeppo with my red ribbon round his neck.” Here she gave another littlegurgle of delight.

  “And oh, Félix, my father hath seen thine, and ’tis all settled! Thouart to be a famous carver with the Père Videau, as thou wishest,”—forthe Lady Elinor had unbounded faith in Félix’s powers, “and, Félix,”she added, “I trow ’twas the little Christ Child for thy crèche thatdid it!”

  Then, with a merry smile, she darted off to her father, the CountBernard, who was waiting for her down the church path.

  For a little while after she had gone Félix did not move, but stood asone in a dream. Elinor’s sweet words, ringing in his ears, mingled withthe glad songs the peasants were again singing on their homeward way,till altogether he did not quite know whether he was awake or asleep,but only felt an indistinct notion that some wonderful fairy, who hadthe face of a little maid he knew, had whispered in his ear somethingthat was to make him happy forever.

  Presently a loud bleat close at his side startled him, and lookingdown, he saw that Ninette, decked in her gay garlands, and stilldragging the be-ribboned Beppo in the little cart, had broken away fromthe Père Michaud and come close up to himself.

  Then, with a sudden movement, he stooped over, and, seizing Beppoin both arms, hugged and squeezed him till poor Beppo squeaked withsurprise, and opened his red mouth and gasped for breath. But Félixonly hugged him the harder, murmuring under his breath, “Bless thylittle heart, Beppo! Bless thy little heart!” For in a vague way herealized that the truant lamb had somehow brought him his heart’sdesire, and that was quite enough Christmas happiness for one year.

  And the little Lady Elinor was right, too. Years after, when Félix grewto be a man, he did, in very truth, become a “famous carver,” as shehad declared.

  Far surpassing his first master, the Père Videau, he traveled andworked in many cities; yet never, through all his long life, did heforget that Christmas Eve in the little village of Sur Varne.

  Those who knew him best said that among his dearest treasures he alwayskept a beautifully carved little box, and in it a bit of faded crimsonribbon from the looms of Lyons. While, as for Beppo—well, if ever somehappy day you chance to visit the lovely land of Provence, perhaps youwill see a certain grand old cathedral in the ancient city of Arles;and, if you do, look sharp at the figure of a lamb chiseled in whitestone over the great portal. Look well, I say, for Félix, when hecarved it, would have told you that he was thinking all the while ofBeppo.

  TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE:

  —Obvious print and punctuation errors were corrected.