make an armorer jealous. But why does the king wear so sad an air? His
neck is ill at ease on his shoulders; his features are small and full
of care; he has lost his gayety, his spirit, his confidence in his
fortune, his proud bearing. His air is neither that of a great nor a
good man, nor of a man of intellect; his face is discontented, and one
would say that he was bored with Pau. I am not sure that he was wrong:
and yet the city passes for agreeable, the climate is very mild, and
invalids who fear the cold pass the winter in it.




CHATEAUX IN THE VALLEY OF THE LOIRE[A]

[Footnote A: From "Outre-Mer." Published by Houghton, Mifflin Co.]

BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW


In the beautiful month of October I made a foot excursion along the
banks of the Loire, from Orléans to Tours. This luxuriant region is
justly called the garden of France. From Orléans to Blois, the whole
valley of the Loire is one continued vineyard. The bright green
foliage of the vine spreads, like the undulations of the sea, over
the landscape, with here and there a silver flash of the river, a
sequestered hamlet, or the towers of an old chateau, to enliven and
variegate the scene.

The vintage had already commenced. The peasantry were busy in the
fields--the song that cheered their labor was on the breeze, and