My arms were provided by one of the queer labourers we used to employ in the garden or about the vines. There were three of them, each working by himself in his corner, each with his special qualifications but with undefined duties, though care was taken to keep them apart. They detested one another. Where had they been picked up? Their selection was no doubt due to grandfather’s inveterate indifference, for he let every one, including the property, go his own way. Or perhaps it was due to mother’s tender heart, for she was easily capable of having fished up such pitiful wrecks of humanity as these. The first and earliest in my memory, the one who was my armourer into the bargain, went by the name of Tem Bossette. Both appellations were nicknames, I suppose, and their origin is not hard to discover. _Tem_ must have been derived from Anthelmus, who is a saint venerated in our province. As for the nickname Bossette, I long supposed it to be an indelicate allusion to the curve of his back, due to long leaning over the spade. But I have found an etymology that better suits his character, especially his laziness, and I humbly submit it to messieurs the philologers, who will be able, according to their custom, to consecrate to it several folio volumes. In our country the word _bosse_ has more than one meaning; it especially designates the cask in which the vintage is deposited for convenient removal from the vineyard, and I can still see the bewilderment stamped upon the countenance of a friend to whom I was doing the honours of my native town, on reading a poster, a simple little poster, containing the words _For sale, an oval bosse_. “Happy region,” he commented, “where hunchbacks can carry their gibbosities to market.” He thought himself very clever when he added, “But do they find purchasers?” I explained to him his mistake. Now Tem was a notable drunkard. Our cellar knew that better than any one. _Bossette_, little wine cask; he also could contain a grape harvest; and even, toward the close of his life, the diminutive might have been suppressed. He used to make swords for me out of the stakes on which the vines were tied. In recompense I used to bring him extra bottles of wine, which I procured from Aunt Deen, who had special charge of the cellar, urging upon her the splendour of my armament. From time to time there arose a complaint that the vine trellises were defective and the untrained branches trailing on the ground, absorbing dampness. But grandfather, good naturedly indifferent, never blamed any one, and please reckon up how many stakes were necessary to my complete equipment. I needed them for my panoplies, I needed them for my stables. The number of my horses bore witness to my magnificence. With a stick between my legs I acquired an astonishing velocity, and for each battle I must needs change horses.