And so the little flotilla goes on its way down the current, the Caburle leading, with the image of St. Nicholas at its prow, and at the poop, placed high on the rudder, the mariner's cross, painted red and carved (one winter when the waters had been caught in the grip of the frost) by Maître Apian himself. And the instruments of the Passion: nails, lance, hammer, and all associated with it directly or indirectly, are piously represented.
"En cargo pèr la fiero de Bèu-Caire,
l'a cènt batèu que vuei soun de partènço."
(With cargo for the fair of Beaucaire, there are a
hundred barges starting to-day.)
And there is a friendly rivalry between them, for the first boat to arrive at the meadow of Beaucaire receives, as a welcome from the citizens, a fine sheep. Alas! as we know, the days of the fair of Beaucaire are over!
"Despachatiéu, en aio, fourro-bourro."
"In haste, agitated, pell-mell," the mariners bestir themselves, and the merry, busy procession moves down stream. Maître Apian lifts his cap.
"Au noum de Dieu e de la Santo Viergo,
Au Rose."