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Nor must I forget to mention the fete patronale--a kind of annual fair,
which is held at midsummer, in honor of the patron saint of Auteuil. Then
the principal street of the village is filled with booths of every
description; strolling players, and rope-dancers, and jugglers, and
giants, and dwarfs, and wild beasts, and all kinds of wonderful shows,
excite the gaping curiosity of the throng; and in dust, crowds, and
confusion, the village rivals the capital itself. Then the goodly dames of
Passy descend into the village of Auteuil; then the brewers of Billancourt
and the tanners of Sevres dance lustily under the greenwood tree; and
then, too, the sturdy fishmongers of Bretigny and Saint-Yon regale their
fat wives with an airing in a swing, and their customers with eels and
crawfish....
I found another source of amusement in observing the various personages
that daily passed and repassed beneath my window. The character which most
of all arrested my attention was a poor blind fiddler, whom I first saw
chanting a doleful ballad at the door of a small tavern near the gate of
the village.
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