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Updated: May 1, 2025
Prior Stephen stood by the farmery door, and the scent of Mary's flowers came to him as it had come to Hilarius at the gate. He stretched out his hands with the strange pathetic gesture of a strong man helpless.
He wandered in the Monastery garden and was troubled by its beauties. Two sulphur butterflies sported around the tall white lilies at the farmery door. Did they love? He watched the sparrows at their second nesting, full of business and cheerful bickerings. Did they love? SHE had said the answer was writ large for him to see: he wandered staring, wide-eyed but sightless.
As they walked up and down the platform, a horse and wagon drove up to the little express shed. Pope went over to it. Bart accompanied him. The driver of the wagon was a brisk, smart-looking farmery individual. Pope knew him, and nodded to him in a friendly fashion. "Come after something?" inquired the agent "I don't recall that there is anything here for you."
Suddenly he heard a voice calling a voice he knew in every fibre of his being and yet could set no name to, for it was the voice of God. He arose in haste and went out into the garth, and lo! under the lilies Hilarius lay sleeping. The Prior stood fast in great wonder, his heart leaping for joy; yet he could not cross the little piece of grass that lay between the cloister and the farmery door.
Calls upon our rustic neighbours, long chats with affable housewives, and rounds of farmery, vineyard and field attracted me more than the magnificent panoramas to be obtained from Corconne and other villages within an easy drive. George Sand has ever been regarded as a poetizer of rural life, an arch-idealist of her humbler country-folks.
I do not hesitate to say that the comforts enjoyed by our own farm-servants half a century ago were far in excess of those thought more than sufficient by French labourers and their employers. On the following day my hosts took me round the farmery, fowl-run, piggeries, neat-houses and stalls being inspected one by one.
The Cellarer lacked wine, the drug stores in the farmery were running low; last, but not least, the Precentor had bespoken precious colours, rich gold, costly vellum, and on these the thoughts of Hilarius tarried with anxious expectation. On his left lay the forest, home of his longing imaginings.
'All things come to a waiting man, saith the proverb." A week later he chanced on Hilarius sitting on a bench under the south wall of the farmery cloister. It was a mild, melancholy day, and suited the Minstrel's mood. He sat down by him and told of King and Court; then when Hilarius had once more cried his longing, he said gravely:
Very early next day, having eaten of Heavenly manna, the little band embraced their brethren and set out, laden with food and wine and herbs from the farmery; and the Prior appointed a place to which the Convent should send daily all things needed.
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