The Press. (Stafford Springs, Conn.) 1883-1935, 1900-02-15
staidest ole herd on the plains.

after this long DEPRESSION. Our last let
ter ended with the record of our mishap
at Morez, an interesting old French city
of three thousand inhabitants, forty miles
northwest of Geneva. The punctured
tire is soon mended, and we are off at full
speed; but are soon dismounted by a
heavy grade, which keeps us plodding
and pushing for an hour up over pic
turesque ridge dotted with farm houses.
Soon after midday we reach wayside
inn, tired and hungry. Already dozen
teamsters and other laborers are at din
ner. We are greeted with courtesy and
and made welcome. A well-cooked din
ner Is served US of the following courses: :
Soup, mountain trout, chicken, roast beef,
with vegetables, and the best Of bread.
Our main objection to the dinner was that
1t had to be taken at mid-day-a stiff sun
still before US. Dining at midday, how
ever, is the custom in all unpretentious
hotels In France, Switzerland and western
Germany, and doubtless has much to
commend it. A cycler on long journeys
should take light breakfast, moderate
lunch at noon, and dinner at evening, an
hour or two after the days run Is over.
After dinner on this day (Oct 19th) a
run of twenty-five miles was made to
Champagnole, through broken country
with many down grades, across an occa-
sional mountain brook, but no large
stream. We are still on the western
slopes of the Juras, and grazing still
holds first place. Potato patches here
and there, but tillable acres are scarce.
This part of France Is sparcely inhabited.
Some are at work in the fields and mead
ows, most of them engaged in digging po-
tatoes; often a whole family are digging
in patch not large enough for good
sized farm yard. Aged women here, as
in Germany and Switzerland, engage in
the toughest farm labor. We pass them
on the road, creeping painfully along un
der burdens that only stalwart man
should carry-back baskets strapped to
their shoulders, piled high with potatoes,
or ordure to be taken back to the fields
for the enrichment of the next crop. In
these army-ridden countries Of Europe
pitiable is the degradation of women to
the work of mere beasts Of burden. May
our own free country never come to this
ignoble condition.
Champagnole, city of a few thousand
inhabitants, Is built on an eminence In a
wide, rolling prairie. A more varied ag-
riculture appears. Tillable fields are
large. Sugar beets seem to be the staple
crop, the harvest of which is just begin
ming.
We arrive at the Hotel du Mont In time
to give the punctured tire thorough
overhauling before dark. The days run
has been long and hard, and we are early
abed. The morning brings us fresh
courage and cheer, and we are awheel be-
times. A few miles run to the edge of
the prairie, or valley, and we are again
afoot, climbing mile on mile over another
spur of the Juras. Then down and over
a wide plain into the valley of the Doubs,
a branch OF the Loane, which Is the chief
| western branch of the Rhone which we
left at Geneva SO that really, in large
sense, our run for the last three days
over mountains and hills has been in the
valley of the Rhone At p. m. we cross
the Doubs into Dole, the first consider
able city thus far on the route from &C.
neva. It lies high ON the right bank OF
the Doubs, has university of some note,
fine old cathedral In the spacious mar
ket place, some well-kept business streets,
beautiful park, many good hotels, and
every way impresses the stranger as
live town. Here we loiteI about many
hours the next day waiting for repairs on
a wheel, and in the late afternoon skip
over range of hills fifteen miles into
Auxonne on the Loane, a medieval walled
town, surrounded by moat, that In case
of siege could be filled from the river
Loane, which flows sluggishly past on the
north and west side. Many troops are
stationed here, as at Dole, some of the
best and most spacious buildings of the
city serving as barracks. The city Is
built on low ground, and Is in bad sani-
tary condition, having no tystem OF sew
ers, apparently. III all the small cities
and towns of France that we have passed
through appear the same conditions-bad
sanitation. rough pavements. The tillers
of the soil in France, as in Germany, gen.
orally live in villages, In houses hundreds
OF years old-unfit for human habitation.
Scotland farm houses, as In Switzerland
and the United States, give variety,
homelikeness and picturesqueness to the
landscape. and when country roads, by
following natural grades, deviate from
straight lines, the natural beauty Of the
landscape is enhanced. French roads are
we'll made and kept in good repair, but
they follow straight lines too much, far
more than do Swiss roads.
At Auxonne the punctured tire that has
given us so much trouble Is discarded for
solid rubber tire, to our great relief d!
No fear of further trouble from that
wheel. Now it can be ridden safely
through cactus desert or war tGcks. We
are storm bound all the morning at Aux
onne, but at l p. IN. the clouds break,
and we venture on through mud and wind
twelve miles to Dion, a city that has
been notable in French history for centu-
ries, and is now live, up-to-date town,
we'll equipped with electric lights and
cars. We are now we'll out of the Juras,
in country that would be counted pro-
ductive In any part OF the world. Wheat,
sugar beets and grass are the staples.
The cattle are all white-great, fine look
ing animals that evidently are well cared
for. Farms are unfenced, the French be-
ing too thrifty to waste money on fences
From Dion we ran due west few