One dealer had preempted a large space on the pavement,
where he had spread out an assortment of bits of old iron, nails,
pieces of steel traps, and various fragments which might be useful to
the peasants. The press was so great, that it was difficult to get
through it; but the crowd was a picturesque one, and in the highest
good humor. The occasion was a sort of Fourth of July, but without
its worry and powder and flowing bars.
The spectacle of the day was the procession bearing the silver image
of the saint through the streets. I think there could never be
anything finer or more impressive; at least, I like these little
fussy provincial displays,--these tag-rags and ends of grandeur, in
which all the populace devoutly believe, and at which they are lost
in wonder,--better than those imposing ceremonies at the capital, in
which nobody believes. There was first a band of musicians, walking
in more or less disorder, but blowing away with great zeal, so that
they could be heard amid the clangor of bells the peals of which
reverberate so deafeningly between the high houses of these narrow
streets. Then follow boys in white, and citizens in black and white
robes, carrying huge silken banners, triangular like sea-pennants,
and splendid silver crucifixes which flash in the sun. Then come
ecclesiastics, walking with stately step, and chanting in loud and
pleasant unison.
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