As Soon As We Were Free, We All Hurried Away, To Wash
And Dress, That We Might Make A Decent
Appearance at the
procession; and I saw no more of the Frenchman until we took up our
station in the
Main street to see it pass, when he squeezed himself
into a front place, elaborately renovated; threw back his little
coat, to show a broad-barred velvet waistcoat, sprinkled all over
with stars; then adjusted himself and his cane so as utterly to
bewilder and transfix the Friar, when he should appear.
The procession was a very long one, and included an immense number
of people divided into small parties; each party chanting nasally,
on its own account, without reference to any other, and producing a
most dismal result. There were angels, crosses, Virgins carried on
flat boards surrounded by Cupids, crowns, saints, missals,
infantry, tapers, monks, nuns, relics, dignitaries of the church in
green hats, walking under crimson parasols: and, here and there, a
species of sacred street-lamp hoisted on a pole. We looked out
anxiously for the Cappuccini, and presently their brown robes and
corded girdles were seen coming on, in a body.
I observed the little Frenchman chuckle over the idea that when the
Friar saw him in the broad-barred waistcoat, he would mentally
exclaim, 'Is that my Patron! THAT distinguished man!' and would be
covered with confusion. Ah! never was the Frenchman so deceived.
As our friend the Cappuccino advanced, with folded arms, he looked
straight into the visage of the little Frenchman, with a bland,
serene, composed abstraction, not to be described.
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