When the two camps were thus confronted, a discharge of fire-arms
without created great excitement among all the dogs in the neighborhood.
Those of the household rushed to the door barking vociferously, thinking
that a real attack was in progress, and the small children, whom their
mothers tried in vain to reassure, began to tremble and cry. The whole
scene was so well played that a stranger might well have been deceived
by it and have considered the advisability of preparing to defend
himself against a band of brigands.
Thereupon, the grave-digger, the bridegroom's bard and orator, took his
place in front of the door, and, in a lugubrious voice, began the
following dialogue with the hemp-beater, who was stationed at the small
round window above the same door:
THE GRAVE-DIGGER.
Alas! my good people, my dear parishioners, for the love of God open the
door.
THE HEMP-BEATER.
Who are you, pray, and why do you presume to call us your dear
parishioners? We do not know you.
THE GRAVE-DIGGER.
We are honest folk in sore distress. Be not afraid of us, my friends!
receive us hospitably. The rain freezes as it falls, our poor feet are
frozen, and we have come such a long distance that our shoes are split.
THE HEMP-BEATER.
If your shoes are split, you can look on the ground; you will surely
find osier withes to make _arcelets_ [little strips of iron in the shape
of bows, with which shoes (wooden) were mended].
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