AN ACADIAN VILLAGE 



and has instinctively calculated its weight and 

 value, for one can easily count the fishes, 

 they are very accurately done and are not 

 painted in the impressionist style. I was very 

 glad that it rained hard one Sunday morning, 

 so that I should not be tempted afield, and I 

 went to church for the principal service. As 

 the bells jangled from the steeple, mine host 

 led me up the front steps which were crowded 

 with men, who politely touched their hats 

 and made way for us as we entered the church. 

 Up the main aisle I meekly followed my guide, 

 feeling the penetrating gaze of all the congre- 

 gation fixed upon me. With a flourish I was 

 given the front pew and left to my meditations. 

 The vacant places in the pews must have been 

 soon filled, I imagined, as I did not at first dare 

 to look back of me, for I could hear the stamp- 

 ing of heavy boots as the crowd of men filed 

 into the church at the last moment. When I did 

 summon up courage to look around, I was 

 impressed with the black clothes of the wor- 

 shippers, the brilliant sweaters, dresses and 

 handkerchiefs of the workaday life had van- 

 ished, to be replaced in the women by black 

 caps and black dresses, and in the men by coats, 



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