However, if I could not see her, unless by looking round, I knew she could see me; so I carried myself my best, and flourished my whip in fine style.
And thus we went to the Fair of Beaucaire.

As we passed Les Arenes, that famous Roman amphitheatre in the centre of our city, I heard my father and his old friend allude to its former uses, without paying much heed to them.

I believe they reminded one another that not only wild beasts but Christians had formerly been put to death there, for the recreation of those who were wild beasts themselves; and my father said how he hated the Sunday bull-fights that took place there still, and never would let me go near them; on which I put in soberly, "I never want to, father." "Thou art a steady lad, I'll warrant thee," said M.Bourdinave, approvingly.

"Hold fast the form of sound words which hath been given thee in faith and love which is in Christ Jesus." "Ay, ay, sir," said I, whipping old Rene smartly.

And in another minute we were thumping and bumping over great paving-stones, too noisily for conversation to be carried on, and getting into a melee of carts, wagons, and horsemen, all bound for Beaucaire.