PART III.

"A miracle! a miracle!" The people shouted, as they might well, When the news went through the town And every child and woman and man Took up the cry, and away they ran To see Pierre taken down.

They made a famous procession My good little women and men, Such a sight was never seen before And I think will never again.

Santiago's Image, large as life, Went first with banners and drum and fife; And next, as was most meet, The twice-born Cock and Hen were borne Along the thronging street.

Perched on a cross-pole hoisted high, They were raised in sight of the crowd; And when the people set up a cry, The Hen she cluck'd in sympathy, And the Cock he crow'd aloud.

And because they very well knew for why They were carried in such solemnity, And saw the Saint and his banners before 'em They behaved with the greatest propriety, And most correct decorum.

The Knife, which had cut off their heads that morn, Still red with their innocent blood, was borne, The scullion boy he carried it; And the Skewers also made part of the show, With which they were truss'd for the spit.

The Cook in triumph bore that Spit As high as he was able; And the Dish was display'd wherein they were laid When they had been served at table.

With eager faith the crowd prest round; There was a scramble of women and men For who should dip a finger-tip In the blessed Gravy then.

Next went the Alcayde, beating his breast, Crying aloud like a man distrest, And amazed at the loss of his dinner, "Santiago, Santiago! Have mercy on me a sinner!"

And lifting oftentimes his hands Toward the Cock and Hen, "Orate pro nobis!" devoutly he cried, And as devoutly the people replied, Whenever he said it, "Amen!"

The Father and Mother were last in the train; Rejoicingly they came, And extoll'd, with tears of gratitude, Santiago's glorious name.

So, with all honors that might be, They gently unhang'd Pierre; No hurt or harm had he sustain'd, But, to make the wonder clear, A deep biack halter-mark remain'd Just under his left ear.