“THE CURÉ MAY GIVE US ANOTHER SERMON FOR THAT.”
At Christmas, Easter, and Ascensiontide they again went to confession, but on none of these occasions was anything said about dancing.
In the beginning of August, a fortnight before St Roch’s Day, Mathis said to his wife:
“Wife, we must have the dancing again.”
“You know best,” answered Geutruu, as before; “but what will M. le Curé say?”
To which he gave the same answer as last year.
And there was dancing at the “Sun.” The Curé preached with all his might, but the townspeople went first and the peasants followed, and no less than forty-five casks of beer were consumed at the “Sun.” Such a thing had not happened anywhere in the neighbourhood within the memory of man.
But, alas! for the following All Saints’ Day. As soon as the Curé caught sight of Mathis Knoups through the grating of the confessional, he closed the slide in his face. Geutruu received absolution, after many entreaties and arguments, because she could plead that she had warned her husband.
“That’s his own business,” said Mathis; “every one must know what he is about.”