I had one other curious experience, and after that I gave up trying
anything that was a novelty or that they hadn't seen all their lives.
The French peasant is really conservative; and if left to himself,
with no cheap political papers or socialist orators haranguing in the
cafes on the eternal topic of the rich and the poor, he would be quite
content to go on leading the life he and his fathers have always
led--would never want to destroy or change anything.

I was staying one year with Lady Derby at Knowsley, in Christmas week,
and I was present one afternoon when she was making her annual
distribution of clothes to the village children. I was much pleased
with some ulsters and some red cloaks she had for the girls. They were
so pleased, too--broad smiles on their faces when they were called up
and the cloaks put on their shoulders. They looked so warm and
comfortable, when the little band trudged home across the snow. I had
instantly visions of my school children attired in these cloaks,
climbing our steep hills in the dark winter days.

I had a long consultation with Lady Margaret Cecil, Lady Derby's
daughter--a perfect saint, who spent all her life helping other
people--and she gave me the catalogue of "Price Jones," a well-known
Welsh shop whose "spécialité" was all sorts of clothes for country
people, schools, workmen's families, etc. I ordered a large collection
of red cloaks, ulsters, and flannel shirts at a very reasonable price,
and they promised to send them in the late summer, so that we should
find them when we went back to France.

We found two large cases when we got home, and were quite pleased at
all the nice warm cloaks we had in store for the winter.