hares and rabbits hanging from the sides. The sportsmen all came back
to the keeper's lodge to have a drink before starting off on their
long drive home, and there was always a great discussion over the
entries in the game book and the number of pièces each man had killed.
It was a very difficult account to make, as every man counted many
more rabbits than the trackers had found, so they were obliged to make
an average of the game that had been brought in. When all the guests
had departed it was killing to hear the old keeper's criticisms.

[Illustration: There were all sorts and kinds.]

Another important function was a large breakfast to all the mayors,
conseillers d'arrondissement, and rich farmers of W.'s canton. That
always took place at the château, and Mme. A. and I appeared at table.
There were all sorts and kinds--some men in dress coats and white
gloves, some very rough specimens in corduroys and thick-nailed shoes,
having begun life as garçons de ferme (ploughboys). They were all
intelligent, well up in politics, and expressed themselves very well,
but I think, on the whole, they were pleased when Mme. A. and I
withdrew and they went into the gallery for their coffee and cigars.
Mme. A. was extraordinarily easy--talked to them all. They came in
exactly the same sort of equipage, a light, high, two-wheeled trap
with a hood, except the Mayor of La Ferté, our big town, who came in
his victoria.

I went often with W. to some of the big farms to see the
sheep-shearing and the dairies, and cheese made. The farmer's wife in
France is a very capable, hard-working woman--up early, seeing to
everything herself, and ruling all her carters and ploughboys with a
heavy hand. Once a week, on market day, she takes her cheeses to the