impression wore off and they became most friendly.

The Place d'Armes was a typical French marketplace and very picturesque.
At one corner of the square stood the town hall with a turret and a very
pretty Carillon called "Jolie Annette," since smashed by a shell. I
asked an old shopkeeper why the Carillon should be called by that name
and he told me that in 1600 a well-to-do _commerçant_ of the town had
built the turret and promised a Carillon only on the condition that it
should be a line from a song sung by a fair lady called "Jolie Annette,"
performing at a music hall or Café Chantant in the town at that time.
The inhabitants protested, but he refused to give the Carillon unless he
could have his own way, which he ultimately did. Can't you imagine the
outraged feelings of the good burghers? "_Que voulez-vous,
Mademoiselle_," the old man continued, shrugging his shoulders, "_Jolie
Annette ne chante pas mal, hein?_" and I agreed with him.

I thought it was rather a nice story, and I often wondered, when I
heard that little song tinkling out, exactly what "Jolie Annette" really
looked like, and I quite made up my mind on the subject. Of course she
had long side curls, a slim waist, lots of ribbons, a very full skirt,
white stockings, and a pair of little black shoes, and last but not
least, a very bewitching smile. It is sad to think that a shell has
silenced her after all these years, and I hope so much that someone will
restore the Carillon so that she can sing her little song once again.

In one corner of the square was a house (now turned into a furniture
shop) where one of the F.A.N.Y.'s great-grandmothers had stayed when
fleeing with the Huguenots to England. They had finally set off across
the Channel in rowing boats. Some sportsmen!