When our poets’ réunions were at Saint-Rémy we met at the house of Roumanille’s parents, Jean-Denis and Pierrette, well-to-do market-gardeners living on their own land. On these occasions we dined in the open air under the shade of a vine-covered arbour. The best painted plates were had out in our honour, while Zine and Antoinette, the two sisters of our friend, handsome brunettes in their twenties, ministered to our wants and served us with the excellent _blanquette_ they had themselves prepared. A rugged old soldier was this Jean-Denis, father of Joseph Roumanille. He had served under Bonaparte, as he somewhat disdainfully called the Emperor, had fought in the battle of Waterloo and gained the Cross, which, however, in the confusion following the defeat, he never received. When his son, in after years, gained a decoration under MacMahon, he remarked: “The son receives what the father earned.” The following is the epitaph Roumanille inscribed on the tomb of his parents in the cemetery at Saint-Rémy: To Jean-Denis Roumanille Gardener. A man of worth and courage. 1791-1875. And to Pierrette his Spouse Good, pious and strong. 1793-1875. They lived as Christians and died in peace. God keep them. [Illustration: MAS DES POMMIERS--HOME OF JOSEPH ROUMANILLE.] Our meetings in Avignon were held at Aubanel’s home in the street of Saint-Marc, which to-day is called by the name of the great Félibre poet. The house had formerly been a cardinal’s palace, and has since been destroyed in making a new street. Just inside the vestibule stood the great wooden press with its big screw, which for two hundred years had served for printing the parochial and educational works of all the State. Here we would take up our abode, somewhat awed by the odour of sanctity which seemed to emanate from those episcopal walls, and even more by Jeanneton, the old cook, who eyed us with a look which said plainly: “Why, here they are again!” The kindly welcome, however, of our host’s father, official printer to his Holiness the Pope, and the joviality of his uncle, the venerable Canon, soon put us at our ease. At Brunet’s and also Mathieu’s we sometimes held our revels, but it was at Font-Ségugne, predestined to play an important part in our enterprise, that perhaps we most enjoyed ourselves in the charming country house belonging to the family of Giéra. Paul, the eldest son, was a notary at Avignon, and an enthusiastic supporter of our movement. His mother, a dignified and gracious lady, two sisters, charming, joyous young girls, and a younger brother, Jules, devoted to the work of the White Penitents, made up the circle of this delightful home.