AN ACADIAN VILLAGE 



to the church, had been lined with balsam fir 

 and spruce and birch saplings stuck in the sandy 

 soil and tied to fence posts. The day before, 

 on looking from the door of our house, I had 

 been startled by seeing islands of verdure ad- 

 vancing like Birnam wood across the sound. 

 The islands were boats so filled with trees that 

 the rowers were invisible. Flags and banners 

 of all shapes and colours waved gaily in the 

 wind along this lane and added to the joy and 

 beauty of the scene. 



After an impressive vesper service in the 

 church, the whole congregation, which was in- 

 deed the entire community, sallied forth on the 

 prepared way. First came an acolyte, a sturdy, 

 handsome youth, bearing aloft in his strong 

 hands the cross, and attended by two smaller 

 boys bearing candles. All the acolytes were re- 

 splendent in scarlet cassocks and white lace 

 cottas. Then followed all the little children of 

 the village marshalled into some sort of order 

 by two anxious nuns, the boys in one line, the 

 girls in another. The image of the virgin, borne 

 on the shoulders of two women and attended 

 by little girls in the bridal dresses of their first 

 communion, came next. Behind followed the 



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