Page:Mistral - Mirèio. A Provençal poem.djvu/29

] And so one evening, as they trudged their round With osier bundles on their shoulders bound, "Father," young Vincen said, "the clouds look wild About old Magalouno's$3$ tower up-piled. If that gray rampart fell, 'twould do us harm: We should be drenched ere we had gained the farm."

"Nay, nay!" the old man said, "no rain to-night! 'Tis the sea-breeze that shakes the trees. All right! A western gale were different." Vincen mused: "Are many ploughs at Lotus farmstead used?" "Six ploughs!" the basket-weaver answered slow: "It is the finest freehold in La Crau.

"Look! There 's their olive-orchard, intermixt With rows of vines and almond-trees betwixt. The beauty of it is, that vineyard hath For every day in all the year a path! There 's ne'er another such the beauty is; And in each path are just so many trees."

"O heavens! How many hands at harvest-tide So many trees must need!" young Vincen cried. "Nay: for 'tis almost Hallowmas, you know, When all the girls come flocking in from Baux,$4$ And, singing, heap with olives green and dun The sheets$5$ and sacks, and call it only fun."