Several days before, all the houses appear in a new toilette, decked out with evergreens and branches of the vine and tamarisk, festoons of which are suspended from window to window. All the streets of the village are washed and swept, like a drawing-room. On the preceding evening every garden is opened, the borders are ravaged, baskets-full of roses, armfulls of jasmine, bunches of gilly-flowers and sweet-pea fall under a little army of scissars and white hands. The camellias complain, the heliotropes murmur, all the tribe of tulips are in low spirits, for each family gathers in a perfect harvest of flowers--every one remarks to the other--"To-morrow is the _fête Dieu_, the feast of roses--the favourite festival of the year." And when aurora, pale with watching, rises in the cloudless sky, when the cock, herald of the morn, proclaims the birth of another day, when the first golden ray, traversing space, lights the eastern casement, behind which many a lovely bosom heaves, with anticipated conquest and excitement, the bells of the village church are heard, and at this merry signal every one is up and soon busily engaged superintending the preparations for the day. The streets, as if by enchantment, are carpeted with verdure; the pine, the oak, and the birch, from the neighbouring forest, contribute their young shoots and leaves; the prickly broom its yellow flowers. The façades of the houses are hidden under their various hangings, the rich suspend from their windows their splendid carpets; the poor, sheets as white as driven snow. All ornament them, here and there, with roses, pinks, and carnations. Then, at short distances down the principal street, the young _demoiselles_ of the village erect what are termed _reposoirs_, a kind of chapel or altar, improvised for the occasion, which lead to an emulation and an animated rivalry perfectly terrible. It is whose shall be the largest, best, and most elegantly decorated, and these young nymphs, usually so reserved and so easily frightened, become, for this week, as bold and free as so many dragoons. They enter the house, without being announced, open the drawers, visit the secretaries, ransack the cupboards. Pirates, with taper fingers, they put into their baskets and reticules all the valuables they can lay their hands on. Objects of art they are sure to seize, more especially if they are made of the precious metals. It is who shall adorn her _reposoir_ with gold and bronze vases, with enamelled cups, pictures, and rich crucifixes. Important meetings are held, in some secret spot, to determine of what form the altar shall be; if the dominating colour shall be blue, purple, or lilac. Then there is a consultation whether the drapery, that is to cover this temporary chapel, shall be with or without a fringe,--a discussion which becomes more entangled with difficulties than those in the Parliamentary Club of the Rue des Pyramides, as to the continued existence or demise of our poor constitution.