light railway, or steam tram such as that people build in great
profusion to link up their villages and their streams. The road where I
came upon it made a level crossing, and there was a hut there, and a
woman living in it who kept the level crossing and warned the
passers-by. She told me no more trains, or rather little trams, would
pass that night, but that three miles further on I should come to a
place called "The Mills of the Vidame."

Now the name "Vidame" reminded me that a "Vidame" was the lay protector
of a Cathedral Chapter in feudal times, so the name gave me a renewed
pleasure.

But it was now near midnight, and when I came to this village I
remembered how in similar night walks I had sometimes been refused
lodging. When I got among the few houses all was dark. I found, however,
in the darkness two young men, each bearing an enormous curled trumpet
of the kind which the French call _cors de chasse_, that is,
hunting horns, so I asked them where the inn was. They took me to it and
woke up the hostess, who received us with oaths. This she did lest the
young men with hunting horns should demand a commission. Her heart,
however, was better than her mouth, and she put me up, but she charged
me tenpence for my room, counting coffee in the morning, which was, I am
sure, more than her usual rate.

Next day I took the little steam tram away from the place and went on
vaguely whither it should please God to take me, until the plateau
changed and the light railway fell into a charming valley, and, seeing a
town rooted therein, I got out and paid my fare and visited the town. In
this town I went to church, as it was early morning (you must excuse the
foible), and, coming out of church, I had an argument with a working man