An immense amount of work, and really great resources of imagination, had been necessary to perfect such an exquisite picture. For instance, the ass, which was about six thumbs in height, was covered in mouse-skin which imitated his own to perfection. The black and white ox owed his hair to an India pig of the same colour, and his short and polished black horns to the rounded nippers of an enormous beetle. The robes of the magi kings revealed a fairy-like skill and patience, and their long white hair was really veritable hair, which Dame Dulceline had cut from her own venerable head. As to the figures of the cherubs, the infant Jesus, and other actors in this holy scene, they had been purchased in Marseilles from one of those master wax-chandlers, who always kept assorted materials necessary in the construction of these cradles. Doubtless it was not high art, but there was, in this little monument of a laborious and innocent piety, something as simple and as pathetic as the divine scene which they tried to reproduce with such religious conscientiousness. The good old priest and Dame Dulceline, after having lit the last candles which surrounded the cradle, stood a moment, lost in admiration of their work. “Never, M. Abbé,” said Dame Dulceline, “have we had such a beautiful cradle at Maison-Forte.” “That is true, Dame Dulceline; the representation of the animals approaches nature as closely as is permitted man to approach the marvels of creation.” “Ah, M. Abbé, why did it have to be that the accursed Bohemian, who they say is an emissary of the pirates, should give us the secret of making glass eyes for these animals?” “What does it matter, Dame Dulceline? Perhaps some day the miscreant will learn the eternal truth. The Lord employs every arm to build his temple.” “Pray tell me, M. Abbé, why we must put the cradle under the dais in the hall of honour. Soon it will be forty years since I began making cradles for Maison-Forte des Anbiez. My mother made them for Raimond IV., father of Raimond V., for as many years. Ah, well! I have never asked before, nor have I even asked myself why this hall was always selected for the blessed exposition.” “Ah, you see, Dame Dulceline, there is always, at the base of our ancient religious customs, something consoling for the humble, the weak, and the suffering, and also something imposing as a lesson for the happy and the rich and the powerful of this world. This cradle, for instance, is the symbol of the birth of the divine Saviour. He was the poor child of a poor artisan, and yet some day he was to be as far above the most powerful of men as the heavens are above the earth. So you see, Dame Dulceline, upon the anniversary day of the redemption, the poor and rustic cradle of the infant Saviour takes the place of honour in the ceremonial hall of the noble baron.”