The Sauk Centre herald. (Sauk Centre, Stearns County, Minn.) 1886-current, 1924-04-10
Drat. 1nlkH
BY HELEN RICH
Courtesy of the Colorado Springs
azetteTelegraph for which
Helen Rich is writing q
series Of articles entitled
Dear Folks"
By HELEN RICH
Orleans, France, March %.

Orleans, France, March %.
-Four girls are waiting turns for a
bath in this town which Jeanne dare
made famous, dead-tired after much
humping around in uncomfortable
French trains and footsore after
tramping over miles of cobblestones
which the feet of centuries have
worn into uneven smoothness. It is a
process, this getting bath in France.
Even in this hotel accustomed to
Americans, there is but one tub we
are told and mort than that, no baths
are run for the guests after nine
o'clock at night. We did not re-
turn to the place until eight thirty and
only the jingling of francs is keep
Ing the bath-maid tractable. We
drew lots for our turns. Mine comes
last. Judging from the present cere-
mony which accompanies each SUBJ
mersion l am going to do my splash
ing at 1920.
We would not have France differ
ent, not even for bath. 1t all in
terests US and furnishes US mild
amusement. Just now we are getting
a laugh out of the fact that we can
ride upstairs but must walk down.
This hotel boasts an elevator which,.
like all others | have seen over here,
holds but three persons. Up we rode,
two by two, like the animals in the
Ark, but when l wanted to ride down
a few minutes ago was gravely in
formed that the "ascensure" ascend
ed but did not descend. One does
not stop to argue such a point in
France. 1t would do no good.
For the last few days we have
been vigorously ''doing" a part of
the Touraine country where every
hamlet has its magnificent chateau
and where many Louis and Henrys'
and GATHERINGS and Annes' not for
getting dukes and duchesses did those
things which make interesting read
ing for the twentieth century. Since
two in the party are compelled to re-
turn to Paris for school we went only
as far as Tours working back towards
the metropolis.
AS you probably know, Tours is
chiefly noted for the purity of the
French language spoken there and its
champagne. We sampled" both and
know that the confidence in the ex
cellence of each is not misplaced. The
inhabitants take great pride in their
justly famous superiority over other
French-speaking people and one hears
the purest speech even among the
peasant class. We have thought
Partisan French beautiful but at
Tours it is like music and, incidental
ly, much less difficult to understand.
Like small towns anywhere people are
much more friendly than city. Ar
irving at night we dickered for hotel
rates and shortly found rambling
place where sleepy old man trotted
around to show us our rooms, turned
down the linen sheets for us and pat
ted us an affectionate "good night.
For the sum of fifteen francs the
other Innocent and | found ourselves
in a room looking out onto moon
lit courtyard-a room so large and
comfortable that it would have cost
us many dollar in America. We
ran out for a few minutes to lean
over the bridge of the gentle Loire
and dream into the moonlight and lis
ten to the soft tapping of the water
and watch the slumbering town. Then
back to the hotel where we sunk into
fathomless sleep with feather bed
above and below in the most approved
French style. No one dreams of the
luxury of feather bed until one has
slept in those of the French provinces.
Early the next morning we were
out following the continental break
fast of crisp rolls and chocolate in
bed to find the town flooded with
sunlight as we had not seen since
leaving Colorado. First we visited
the cathedral-every town has its
cathedral over here and all are mag
nifcent. Here we were awed by
Gothic arches and priceless windows
after the manner of Michael Angelo.
An earnest priest was in the pulpit of
one of the chapels charging his black
dressed flock with Lenten contrite-
ness.
Such sunshine forbade lingering
within damp churches and most of
the day we spent wandering through
narrow streets, marvelling at the
long avenue of the flower markets
where old women cackled at four
Americans when they kodaked them
and sold them great punches of
fragrant violets for few sous. We
browsed through the other markets,
familiar all over France, and mar
yelled at the old women who sold no
lions and wore on her soiled head a
shawl of rare Paisley. We peered at
steep-roofed Norman houses which
are to be found so far out of Nor
mandy and we stumbled up narrow,
crooked streets where the houses
sway in and out and lean against
each other gossiping like old women:
We found our way to the nunnery OF