“Well, well, ladies and gentlemen, let us entertain no dark thoughts on this evening, the happiest of my life! Let us play blind man’s buff.”
“Let us play blind man’s buff!” was repeated by everybody.
On hearing this noise, the gentlemen who were half asleep by the fumes of wine seemed to awaken as if from a long dream. Young gentlemen clapped their hands; ladies, young and old, congratulated one another on the happy idea.
“But whose eyes shall be covered first?” asked the priest.
“Yours, Mr. Varin,” cried all the ladies. “We look to you for the good example, and we shall follow it.”
“The power and unanimity of the jury by which I am condemned cannot be resisted. I feel that there is no appeal. I must submit.”
FESTIVITIES IN A PARSONAGE.
Immediately one of the ladies placed her nicely perfumed handkerchief over the eyes of her priest, took him by the hand, led him to an angle of the room, and having pushed him gently with her delicate hand, said: “Mr. Blindman! Let everyone flee! Woe to him who is caught!”
There is nothing more curious and comical than to see a man walk when he is under the influence of wine, especially if he wishes nobody to notice it. How stiff and straight he keeps his legs! How learned and complicated, in order to keep his equilibrium, are his motions to right and left! Such was the position of priest Varin. He was not very drunk. Though he had taken a large quantity of wine, he did not fall. He carried with wonderful courage the weight with which he was laden. The wine which he had drank would have intoxicated three ordinary men; but such was his capacity for drinking, that he could still walk without falling. However, his condition was sadly betrayed by each step he took and by each word he spoke. Nothing, therefore, was more comical than the first steps of the poor priest in his efforts to lay hold of somebody in order to pass his band to him. He would take one forward and two backward steps, and would then stagger to the right and to the left. Everybody laughed to tears. One after another they would all either pinch him or touch him gently on his hand, arm or shoulder, and passing rapidly off would exclaim, “Run away!” The priest went to the right and then to the left, threw his arms suddenly now here and then there. His legs evidently bent under their burden; he panted, perspired, coughed, and everyone began to fear that the trial might be carried too far, and beyond propriety. But suddenly, by a happy turn he caught the arm of a lady who in teasing him had come too near. In vain the lady tries to escape. She struggles, turns round, but the priest’s hand holds her firmly.