THE ANGELS' MASS 



it : the whole animal, bones and beak and all ! It is an 

 unspeakable dish to have set before you on a hot day. 

 Patties filled with cocks' combs might follow. Even the 

 Risotto was intermingled with such strange mincings of 

 liver and cutlet trimmings that one hesitated before ven- 

 turing. The Fritura, needless to say, was in full force. 

 A lucky dip, that! YOU may come across yesterday's 

 cauliflower, a bit of forgotten sweetbread, a slice of 

 sausage, a frizzled artichoke, and half the quail you 

 couldn't eat the night beforeall in one spoonful ! 

 Besides the fierce matutinal summons of the domestic bell, 

 one's sleep was constantly disturbed by a jangle of chimes 

 from the church : a perfect frenzy of joy-bells it was, so 

 prolonged and insistent that sleep was beaten out of one's 

 brain as with hammers. 



" What," we asked our younger hostess, the third day 

 of this infliction, " what are these carillons, morning after 

 morning ? " 



" Oh, that ? That is for the Angels' Mass," she answered 

 us indifferently. 

 "The Angels' Mass?" 

 " Yes. A child dead in the village." 

 " But every morning ? " 



" There have been several deaths lately. It is the fever 

 from the rice fields." 



Pleasant hearing for a woman with an only little daughter 

 just recovering from a rather serious illness! Every 

 smell that greeted her nostrils afterwards and they 

 were of a diversified and poignant descriptionseemed 



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