The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1869-10-12

rrs PEou11ARfrIEs-rH PEOPLE. -
A correspondent Of the London Telegraph
wTites:-,
"A Basque village is nrlike any other. At
its entrance you come upon the church, with
its poetic churchyard, where each tomb is
fresh strewn with fragrant flowers, and
where weird headstones of a circular form
stare at you with their undeciphered charac-
ters, the meaning whereof none can as yet
explain. Close to the church is the 'P6I0te
ground. Petote is the sacred game of the
country. 1t is in reality the origin of tennis,
and no hamlet of ten houses is without its
PeCote ground. 1t is open, unenclosed, but at
one end mighty wall rises up on which the
marks are registered. Each player, instead
of Tdquette, has a kind of prolonged arm in
wicker work attached to his right hand, with
which he catches and impes the ball The
strength, agility, and grace displayed by
these men are not to be described; they must
be seen, and might help sculptor in his
studies
"After the church and the pe1ote ground,
you may see perhaps house or two-large,
solidly-built dwellings, the upper story of
which reminds you of a Swiss chalet. From
under the widely-proje roof appears on
the second, and sometimes third, story
balcony, into which open several doors and
windows. These balconies areas are the
wlndow-frames and doors-painted red or
dark green or orange; while the walls of the
house are dazzlingly white. In the garden
you may see fig trees big as oaks, or laurels
with stems hike elms, or lilac aetheus (often
double whose topmost branches touch the
ROOT the house. As to the vegetation, it is
fabulous; you may see the leaf of a poplar as
big as very large pudding-dsh, and the In
dlan corn grows up to look like the trees of q
small wood.
We'll, in these villages you go from one
dwelling house to another, and at the end of
half mile you say-'What a thinly scattered
village! But it is not the village you are
told-the commune, as it is called, is yonder,
behind the hill. Then you cross meadows,
Verdant as in England, and babbling little
streams, and you mount hill clothed in fern
that reaches up to your very shoulder, and
then you perceive the commune that is living
peacefully nesting derriore JG m09tdgne You
must be very familiar with the Basque coun-
try before you can fiatter yourself that you
have come to the end of Basque village
There is always something more to come
some lovely little homestead, hidden from
view by oaks and chestnut trees; and that,
when you have found it out, makes you envy
the lot of the peasants who live there.
'The Basque has, in fact, no mobility, he
| is lowly descended, and one with his own
soil, and he bears marks OF Natures ROYALTY
that it is hard to find in any other race. He
| 10 pSllSCCly Will Ule
lordly swinging gait that is peculiar to noun
taineers and Indicative of freedom The
Basque is a sheppard, husbandman, and a
very centaur, horse being at once and grace
fully subjugated by him; but he is not a
hunter. He is the king of all pedestrians,
and his genuine admiration of all Britons
arises from our capacity of walking He is
honest, veracious, frank, hospitable, sincere
brave, and cautious at once, like the Scot.
But what he possesses beyond every other
continental race is his unexampled cleanli
ness.
'Look at him in his village f6teS, and see
if there ever was such fine clean linen as he
wears (and wears always, and go into his
house and see his wife making her maize
bread OF cooking, or in any way pursuing hel
housewifely avocations, and say if you are
not afraid lest your boots, with the roaC
dust on them, should soil the shining floor
Everything shines-foor, fireplace, furniture
every corner will bear inspection, anC
everything smiles That is the greatest charm
of all in this lovely, unfrequented Basqu,
country, that there lies as it were smile OF
all-on the fruitful fields and sparkling
streams, on the sunny walls and leafy woods
on the fern and heath-grown hills, and on th
fine handsome faces of the people"