the house proudly drew our attention to a beautiful blue cow, grey in
our ignorance we had called it, one of a score or more of superb kine
all now reclining on their haunches before being turned out to pasture.
In front, cocks and hens disported themselves on a dunghill, whilst
beyond, the steam corn thresher was at work, every hand being called
into requisition. No need here for particulars and figures. The
superabundant wealth, so carefully husbanded for the two youths in
Paris, was self-evident.

The tornado, with threatening showers and the sight of a huge tree just
uprooted by the road side, necessitated the shortest possible cut home.
In fair weather a prolongation of our drive would have given us a sight
of some famous rocks of this rocky forest. But we carried home memories
enough for one day.




CHAPTER VII.


RECLOSES.

This ancient village, reached by the forest, is one of the most
picturesque of the many picturesque places hereabouts. Quitting a
stretch of pinewood we traverse flat cultivated land, gradually winding
up towards a long straggling village surmounted by a lofty church tower
of grey stone. On either side of this street are enclosed farm-houses,
the interiors being as pictorial as can be imagined. Untidy as are most
French homesteads, for peasant farmers pay little court to the Graces,