Near him sit other venerable men,
and behind is a group of the young men of
the village. On the left are the women
and girls, spinning wool, or the fine flax of
the country. You are cordially received,
and the circle opens to admit you to the
warmest place by the roaring fire, but
beware of expecting any further deference!
Whatever may be your rank in civilised
society, you are entitled here to no more
than the courtesy due to a welcome visitor.
Soon begins a catechism which your superior
knowledge is supposed to enable you to
answer. What news is stirring? What are
the morals, customs, religions, languages of
other countries? How must one figure to
oneself Paris? and Bordeaux? and so on?
At first your replies are not received without
a shade of suspicion; a thousand
questions are put, and small objections raised,
so as to detect any inconsistencies in your
replies. But you have answered honestly;
your replies have been clear, serious, and
truthful, and so you come out unscathed
from the ordeal. Then, indeed, you rise to
the position of an honoured guest. Each
vies with the other in making much of
you, and in appreciating your merits; the
women and girls, for the first time, take
part in the questioning; the grey-beards
plunge into politics, and philosophise at
their ease; the hours glide swiftly by, and
only among the group of young men, a
certain restlessness about the feet betrays
their fear lest the time for the mutchico, or
Saut Basque, should be forgotten. But
at length some jovial mountaineer, whose
white hairs have not rendered him oblivious
of his youth, turns suddenly round, claps
his hands with a merry houp! and strikes
up the national air. In a moment half-a-
dozen young fellows are describing the
semicircle according to which the
movements of the dance are to be executed;
every other man turns his back to the fire,
and constitutes himself a judge. Silence
is established, and the old men, especially,
look gravely on, inexorable to any new-
fangled innovation or ill-executed step.
Watch that young fellow whose dancing is
voted perfect; his figure straightened, his
shoulders well down, his head slightly
bowed, his arms hanging with careful
carelessness, his serious expression showing
that he is sensible of the solemn responsibility
upon him! The girls, meanwhile, are
supposed to remain unmoved, but soon the
chairs begin to creak, and, as if of their
own accord, turn slightly from the hearth,
and towards the centre of the room. Many
a stolen glance from many a bright eye,
criticises or encourages the performers,
who are by no means insensible to their
rays. More and more active grows the
dancer, more and more springy becomes the
step, until at last the song stops, and it is
time for the final trial of skill. Two sticks
are crossed at right angles, and the object
of the dancer is to continue a series of
marvellous evolutions from one angle to the
other for so long a time as to tire out the
musician who performs the accompaniment.
If he succeed, with a bound he seizes
the sticks, and his triumph is complete.
A Basque proverb says, "A good jumper
may often be found under a bad cloak,"
meaning that a poor dress may cover a noble
heart.

The honour of executing the first
mutchico (from mutchico, boys, or young men)
after one of the pastoral representations
of which the Basques are passionately
fond, is put up to auction, and is so hotly
competed for by the young men of different
parishes, that the successful commune
has frequently to pay a hundred and fifty
or two hundred francs. The privilege of
dancing the second and then the third, is
also sold to the highest bidders, the sum
realised going far towards defraying the
expenses of the temporary theatre, which
is opened gratis to the spectators. Many
of the pastorals are of a sacred character,
and are drawn from the Bible or the lives
of saints; others turn upon the struggle
between the crescent and the cross, or
upon the death of Roland. The dresses
needed for these representations cost
nothing; they are obtained by ransacking
the chests of every château or bourgeois
house in the neighbourhood, the owner
being bound by custom to lend for the
purpose whatever he may chance to possess
of beautiful or antique; should he refuse,
some means would doubtless be found
of making him smart for his churlishness.
Under these circumstances
dramatic accuracy of costume is not to be
expected; but the savagery of the Mussulman
princes is duly suggested by their
blood-red garments, their head-dresses of
cylindrical shape, adorned with plumes
and little looking-glasses, and their large,
clumsy boots, whereas a Christian king
rejoices in a crown, two watches, small
boots, and gloves. Not many years ago,
another, and more questionable, kind of
pastoral— now discouraged by the police—-
was in vogue. If a matrimonial scandal
shocked a village, instead of being treated