expect much at the very unpretending inn. I was given for déjeuner a delicious soup of gravy and various vegetables chopped up in it; crayfish from the river, trout boiled with a touch of vinegar to turn them blue and give them flavour, bouilli with compote, veal cutlets done to a turn, potatoes, spinach, a portion of roast goose, foie gras, sponge cakes, medlars, apples, cheese.
"Do you not understand," said the scullion, "that the gross matter of the meal may fill the belly, but the cooking appeals to the higher, the very highest element in man. It is not the block of Parian marble that pleases, but the Venus carved out of it by the hands, by the genius of man. Bah! you see the material brought from the market, it neither looks nor smells invitingly; but when Genius and Science take that material in hand, voilà! it is idealized."
But to proceed with our journey. And here let me say that on one single occasion only were we incommoded by rain in our month's drive from St. Malo to Pau, in October. On our return in May, not once were we obliged to close the carriage.
On one occasion we secured a couple of post-boys. One of these was very smart, with a new jacket and breeches, and fresh ribbons to his hat. He appeared to be greatly concerned at our persisting on proceeding. Our party, be it remembered, consisted of two families, the Bonds and ourselves, packed into two carriages. The postmaster could supply no other man to take his place, and he vented his vexation on the horses. As we drove from the post-station we passed a wedding party—the bride a charming brunette, with large liquid brown eyes that filled and overflowed as our carriage whirled by in an opposed direction. The post-boy waxed red as blood, lashed the horses savagely and exploded into Sacres, and Ventre bleu! and Sapristi! At the next station my father complained to him of his reckless driving.
"Mais, monsieur!" said he, "I dare say you would have been as mad under the circumstances. You have spoiled my marriage for to-day. I was to have wed this morning. That was my bride we passed. I cannot get back in time for it to take place to-day. Everything was prepared, the déjeuner and all. You saw my chérie; and she had tears in her eyes as she saw me drive by." Whereupon the postillion gave a great sob, and proceeded to
