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Encore after encore was given, and the bravos of the troisiemes were enough to stir the most sluggish of pulses. "Superbes Pyrenees Qui dressez dans le ciel, Vos cimes couronnees D'un hiver eternelle, Pour nous livrer passage Ouvrez vos larges flancs, Faites faire l'orage, Voici, venir les Francs!"
A youthful, vigorous soul lay in the glance which was fixed upon this cup; she understood every thing. There was a cage with an imprisoned bird; beneath this a verse: "Ce n'est pas un moineau, Garde dans cette cage, C'est un de ces oiseaux, Qui chantent dans L'orage. Ouvrez, amis des sages, Brisez fers et verroux; Les chants dans vos bocages, Rejailliront pour vous."
Madame P , who was musical, played a tempestuously representative composition called "L'Orage" on the upright piano, and joined from time to time in her husband's talk about Swiss affairs, which I have already allowed the reader to profit by. They offered us tea, wine, grapes, and cake, and we came away at eleven, lighted home through the vineyards by Louis, the farm boy, with his lantern.
C . "This is one of the hottest days I ever remember to have experienced in this part of the province. I am afraid that it will end in a hurricane, or what the Lower Canadians term 'l'orage." About four o'clock they rose to go. I urged them to stay longer. "No," said Mrs. C , "the sooner we get home the better. I think we can reach it before the storm breaks."
C. "This is one of the hottest days I ever remember to have experienced in this part of the province. I am afraid that it will end in a hurricane, or what the Lower Canadians term 'L'Orage." About four o'clock they rose to go. I urged them to stay onger. "No," said Mrs. C, "the sooner we get home the better. I think we can reach it before the storm breaks."
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