The Kootenai herald. [volume] (Kootenai, Idaho) 1891-1904, 1892-08-05
ON THE SANDS.

time And, if one does not soon be.
come tired, it is quite as pleasant when
one walks. There are apple blossoms
all the way, and bright fresh grass by
the roadside. For long time. when
one looks back over the flat country.
the three tall spires of the cathedral at
BayeuX loom up above the apple bios
SONS and everything else; but one
loses sight of them at last, and thinks
only Of the great drifts of apple bloom
which fill the air with sweetness.
BY and by the Chateau de Tracy is
seen, half hidden by the trees about it;
and soon after the road turns. and
there is single long street of AFRO
manches before one on the edge of the
cliff, and in front the wide, curving
bay. Perhaps it is August when one
goes to Arromanches, and in that case
he will see red apples cleaning and
twlnkllng among the leaves, and the
gardens at Arromanches will be
ablaze with tall spikes of hollyhock or
lurld with gigantic sunhowers. If
one likes hollvhocks and Sunfiowers
better than apple blossoms, it is better
to see Arromanches in August. But
the people who go to Arromanches
and lodge at the Auberge Chretien, go
there for the sake of the bathing and
not for apple blooms or sunhower
disks. They are mostly people from
the larger Norman towns, with a
sparkling of English tourists. and now
and then a stray American or two
Wlltred Avery is one of these last.
Brought here by some random freak
OF travel, he has found the quiet life
at the Auberge Chretien and on the
silvery PLACE below the cliff so agree
BILE that he has stayed here week after
week, with the time of his departure
still undetermined Scattered about
on the firm white sands are many lit
] tie red and white tents in the shade of
which people sit through long sum
mer hours reading, talking with each
other, or, what is far more profitable
4 TO contemplative mind. watching
! the sea. Wilfred does not find the time
hanging heavily on his hands down
here on the PLACE. He knows every
one about him; and as lie is fairly
good looking, with cheerful, agreeable
manners, he is a general favori te, and
a welcome guest under any or all of
the red and white tents. The fisher
men like 10 have him stop and chat
with them while they are busy about
their boats, and the bare legged fisher
girls, crossing the sands with their
nets across their shoulders. often ex-
change CHEEKY bon Jour with him
when they see him under the shade of
his tent. He is simple natured, gen
erous soul, who would suffer tortures
himself rather than pain any one else
by word or deed. Every day, nearly,
he writes letter there in his tent to
his far oil liancee in America; and
when the year of waiting is over in
which he has promised not to see her.
to crafty some absurd within of her
mothers, he will return to America.
and they will be married in due time.
Meanwhile he is amusing himself in
finding out all sorts of attractive
hooks and corners of travel, with the
intention OF bringing Eleanor to them
next year. Eleanor will be sure to
like Arromanches, he thinks, as he
PAGES the hard white sands or rambles
along the cliff. Sometimes at evening
he leaves the Auberge Chretien for a
chat with the fishermen sitting about
on their updrawn boats, Just out of
the reach of the tide. The lights on
the cliff above twinkle cheerfullv. and
through the line of spars and tangled
rigging the sea flashes white in the
moonlight. The young man takes a
placid enjoyment in it all-the gleam-
ing sea, the twinkling lights, the Cos
siping talk of the fsherfolk. He
knows by this time the family history
of half the jewellers in Arromanches
He knows why Jeanne Vauvray will
not marry either Simon Cauchon or
his brother Alphonse, both of whom
have been in love with her from their
childhood; why Louis Dumont goes
every Sunday to Bernay; how much
money Henri Serment made from his
hsh the year before; and just what
fish the cure prefers for his Friday
dinners. AT least, if he does not know
all these things, it is not for want of
hearing of them often. And he is
communicative in his turn, and tells
them much about America and of
the many places he has visited in his
travels, to all Of which they listen in
tently, but with an inward conviction
that ArromancheS is better To live in
than any one of those strange foreign
places But of Eleanor he says moth
ing. Perhaps it might have been well
to have told them of her also.
One day he loses a little keepsake
that she gave him-a small gold eye
glass hook-and all the youngsters in
Arromanches scamper about on the
PLACE the whole morning in search of
1t for him. But they fail to find it,
and Wilfred feels a little vexed over