The Portland daily press., 1892-01-15
In POETIC NORMANDY.
A Study Of Peasant Life in Frances
Fairest Province.
The Valley of the aIayenne-The Market
Place at nIortain = The Gcndarme-
yagaries of the Village Drummer
Memories of Happy Days.
Especial Paris letter.


Sept FORCES with the little town, was
astir at daybrealz SO as to be in readi-
ness for the first diligence that left for
Mortain. l secured comfortable seat
and the old omnibus soon ratified away
along the pretty country roads.
On my right sat priest with his trl-
angle hat and in full canonicals. lie
was short, jolly-lool1ing person, with
homely but agreeable cast OF coun-
tenance and an eye which expressed
franlSness and good nature. On the
seat opposite was a Partisan CONNER
cial traveller.
And as we were driven along / could
admire the rich Normandy soil and Its
beautiful hills covered with bright
green woods and separated by valleys,
which spread and narrowed and di-
vided themselves into branches in the
most fantastic and picturesque manner.
When we first caught sight of the river
Mayenne we commanded a view OF its
glittering waters in the woody valley
below The upper part of this valley
was as green as the fresh young grass
of spring could make it, and sprinkled
with the early wild flowers OF the year
in all their beauty and fragrance.
Small, spreading trees interspersed
with aspens and poplars whose leaves
twinkled in the sun clustered together,
as it were, in small tufts, dotted it's sur
face; and the turf, like the green,
smooth-shaven lawn of Milton, sloped
down with inexpressible softness to the
~ 1oa
however, can give but a faint idea OF
scene like this, and even the pencil,
powerful as it is in reproducing the
glories of the earth, would fail to catch
all the charms of the spot, which part
ly arose out of accessories
from human dwellings and the, songs of
the birds, and the perfumed breath OF
spring which filed the bosom with de-
light and thrilled like a magic in
huence through the frame.
The time flew by rapidly and, after
few hours spent in conversation with
the commercial traveller and tile priest
and in admiration of the beautiful
scenery, we were safely deposited about
midday before a quaint old au6erge. or
inn, on the market place of Mcrtain.
The market was being held in large
open space surrounded on all sides by
houses and ornamented on two SIDES by
a double row of elm trees. Here were
assembled an immense number OF peas
ants and women from the surrounding
country, whose costume, more especial
" that of the women, would furnish
rich materials to painter Some had
L I. 70
and Barenton by the now railroad, but
most of the neighboring villagers had
made their way thither on foot.
In the large dining-room on this
ground floor OF the inn the most wealthy
peasants were seated at deieuner-a
meal which was being quickly served
by two handsome maidens. There also
was the district policcman--g o1adarnae--
with his three-cornered nat and his
dark blue costume, with his epaulets
and his spurs, and his pistols in a
leather belt about his waist, and above
all his black mustachio 60 well curled.
He was reading the leading paper OF
the department, now taking mouthiul
of q wcll-cooaed bcefsteak, now a
mouthful of dreadful politics.
was soon seated at the common Ia
BILE, but had scarcely had time to drink
a glass of cider and begin my meal when
in the courtyard of the inn drum was
suddenly heard. In moment every
body rushed to the door or the windows
with their mouths full and their nap
l1ins in their hands-with the exception,
though, of the tall gendGrne, who, at
that precise moment, seemed very inter-
ested in particular passage of his rev.
dictionary paper and consequently did
not stir.
When the drummer ceased, beating
his instrument he began the news,
scanning every phrase with deplorable
irregularsty: .sLet it be known to the
inhabitants of Mortain and in general
to all persons present at the market,
that, on the road to Juvigny, between
nine and ten this morning, pocket
book in black leather containing five
hundred francs has been lost. Twenty
francs reward to whosoever brings the
same to the mayor or to M. Homme-
toni" Once more the drum was heard,
and old Jules Malot, the village drum
mer, entered the large room of the i'm
and placing his drum upon the table
made sign to one of the female at
PENDANTS. The pretty maiden had soon
placed cup Of black coffee before him,
with small glass of cognac-his petit
cerre For he was an old ha65tate Of the
auberge and had no need to order. He
came every day at about the same hour
and always took the same refreshnent.
The peasants soon LEFT the dining.
room to return to the market place and
attend to their business. | remained
alone with the old drummer whose III
teresting features excited my curiosity
and attention to no small degree.
He was short and rather stout, with
a determined look about him. To a
stranger he would appear, at first
glance, hard-hearted, uncouth indivi-
dual, but as approached him and
made a few commonplace remarks on the
lovely weather, the beauty Of the scenery
and the market place, Isoon found that
/ was in presence of a real Norman
type of an old soldier, spending his last
LIZ Nnf Il.