Through twenty stanzas, at least, the men enumerated all the gifts in the _livrée_, always mentioning a new article in the last verse: a beautiful _devanteau_,--apron,--lovely ribbons, a cloth dress, lace, a gold cross, even to _a hundred pins_ to complete the bride's modest outfit. The matrons invariably refused; but at last the young men decided to mention _a handsome husband to offer_, and they replied by addressing the bride, and singing to her with the men: "Ouvrez la porte, ouvrez, Marie, ma mignonne, C'est un beau man qui vient vous chercher. Allons, ma mie, laissons-les entrer."[6] III THE WEDDING The hemp-beater at once drew the wooden latch by which the door was fastened on the inside; at that time, it was still the only lock known in most of the houses in our village. The bridegroom's party invaded the bride's dwelling, but not without a combat; for the boys stationed inside the house, and even the old hemp-beater and the old women, made it their duty to defend the hearthstone. The bearer of the spit, supported by his adherents, was bound to succeed in bestowing his bird in the fire-place. It was a genuine battle, although they abstained from striking one another, and there was no anger in it. But they pushed and squeezed one another with such violence, and there was so much self-esteem at stake in that conflict of muscular strength, that the results might be more serious than they seemed to be amid the laughter and the singing. The poor old hemp-beater, who fought like a lion, was pressed against the wall and squeezed until he lost his breath. More than one champion was floored and unintentionally trodden under foot, more than one hand that grasped at the spit was covered with blood. Those sports are dangerous, and the accidents were so serious in later years that the peasants determined to allow the ceremony of the _livrées_ to fall into desuetude. I believe that we saw the last of it at Françoise Meillant's wedding, and still it was only a mock-battle.