were ruins to remind one of the great pagan builders
— an arena so large that its generous girth could
encompass twenty-six thousand people. And he
muttered, as though he were thinking aloud: "Those
were surely magnificent days to live in!3
The children listened wide-eyed and enthralled; and
after awhile he cut bunches of grapes, being careful to
select only such as were sweet — for not aU the wine-
grapes are sweet when eaten. And these they carried
up to a farm which they learnt belonged to Eusebe
also; and the farmer's wife brought them milk and
rough bread — the honest rough bread that is baked
by the peasants. Then they feasted while Eusebe
drank two tumblers of wine, but no more, since he
wished to arrive home sober.
Naturally Marie was extremely anxious and natur-
ally Madame Roustan was angry, for the new moon
had risen above the hills before the children returned
to their parents. Nor were matters improved by le
tout petit Loup who announced at supper as he
sipped his vin coupe, that both he and his name had
been changed by the nymphs, so that now he was no
longer Loup but Bacchus.
§2
This story of Bacchus and his honey-loving nymphs
was only the beginning of many other stories which,
although they were less educational perhaps, were
quite frequently very much more exciting. Eus&be
knew a host of Provencal legends, most of which the
children would find hair-raising — especially when
they were told at dusk in the dim little shop with its
arched stone ceiling. Squatting on the floor .among
clippings of hide, with his three small guests gathered
breathlessly round him, Eusebe would tell of that
terrible lair the Recatadou di Rato-Penado, wherein
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