The fête-day of St. Sauveur has no connection whatever with Petit Andelys' big twin town of Grand Andelys, which has its own fête, but nothing like so grand. There is some little jealousy between the two Andelys. The size and importance of Grand Andelys throws the other quite in the shade, but Petit Andelys has the river, and the people of Grand Andelys have to walk a dusty mile before they reach it, and that is one reason that visitors like the Belle Étoile. So Petit Andelys arranges its own fête. The mayor and its leading citizens organize committees, and great preparations go on for weeks beforehand. One day the children running out of school at the noon hour saw, in the square in front of the church, many wagons with poles, and flapping canvas strewn about. These were the booths for the fair, which were being put up. The great attraction of every fête is its fair, and these _foires_, as the French also call them, move about the country from town to town in wagons like an old-fashioned circus, planning to reach an important town for some special occasion--such as its fête-day. The participants in these fairs live in their lumbering wagons very much as do gipsies, selling all sorts of knickknacks, and performing little plays, or feats of agility or strength. In a few days the little town was dressed out with flags and wreaths, gay streamers and paper lanterns. Marie and Germaine, who were staying at their Uncle Daboll's for the fête, were awakened at five o'clock on the opening day by a succession of terrific noises, which were set forth on the official programme as a "Salvo of Artillery." They were soon dressed and out, but even at that early hour the whole town was astir. Later on the booths in the square opened up for business. There was a merry-go-round, "flying horses" the children call them, with big pink pigs to ride on, and swings in the shape of boats, and a marvellous "wheel of fortune" for those who wanted to try their luck. Germaine never tired of admiring what seemed to her the most beautiful things set out for sale. Jean's great ambition was to hit some of the pipes in the shooting-gallery, and win a wonderful knife that contained everything from a corkscrew to a file. The real gaiety, however, only began in the evening, when a torchlight procession marched up and down the main streets. First came the "Salvo of Artillery" again, which, after all, was a very simple affair. A cartridge was placed on a paving-stone and struck with a big hammer. It made a tremendous noise, however, and everybody jumped, and Germaine put her fingers in her ears when she saw the hammer coming down.