But 1 was dong injustice to these peaceable young Hainauters．When the Cigarette went off to make inquiries，I got out upon the bank tO smoke a pipe and superintend the boats，and became at once the center of much amiable curiosity．The children had been joined by this time by a young woman and a mild lad who had lost an man；and this gave me more security．When I let slip my first word or so in French，a little girl nodded her head with a comical grown-up air．“Ah，you see，”she said，“he understands well enough now：he was just making believe．”And the 1ittle group laughed together very good-naturedly． They were much impressed when they heard we came from England； and the little girl proffered the information that England was an island“and a far way from here--bien loin d’ici．’’
“Aye，you may say that，a far way from here，’’said the lad withOne aITn． 1 was nearly as homesick as ever 1 was in my life；they seemed tomake it such an incalculable distance to the place where I first saw theday． They admired the canoes very much．And I observed one piece ofdelicacy in these children which is worthy of record．They had beendeafening US for the last hundred yards with petitions for a sail；aye，andthey deafened US to the same tune next morning when we came to start；but then，when the canoes were lying empty，there was no word of any such petition．Delicacy?Or perhaps a bit of fear for the water in SO crank a vessel?I hate cynicism a great deal worse than I do the devil；unless perhaps，the two were the same thing?And yet is a good tonic；the coldtub and bath towel of sentiments；and positively necessary to life in cases of advanced sensibility．
From the boats they turned to my costume．They could not make enough of my red sash；and my knife filled them with awe．
“They make them like that in England，’’said the boy with one arm．1 was glad he did not know how badly we make them in England nowadays．“They are for people who go away to sea，”he added，“andto defend one’S life against great fish．’’
I felt 1 was becoming a more and more romantic figure tO the little group at every word．And SO I suppose 1 was．Even my pipe，although it was an ordinary French clay，pretty well“trousered，”as they call it，would have a rarity in their eyes，as a thing coming from SO far away．And if my feathers were not very fine in themselves，they were all from over seas．One thing in my outfit，however，tickled them out of all politeness；and that was the bemired condition of my canvas shoes．I suppose they 。were sure the mud at any rate was a home product．The little girl(who was the genius of the party)displayed her own sabots in competition；and 1 wish you could have seen how gracefully and merrily she did it．
The young woman’S milk can，a great amphora of hammered brass，stood some way off upon the sward．1 was glad of an opportunity to divert public attention from myself and return some of the compliments I had received．So I admired it cordially both for form and color，telling them，and very truly，that it was as beautiful as gold．They were not surprised．The things were plainly the boast of the countryside．And the children expatiated on the costliness of these amphora，which sell sometimes as high as thirty francs apiece；told me how they were carried on donkeys，one on either side of the saddle，a brave caparison in themselves；and how they were to be seen all over the district，and at the larger farms in great number and of great size．
PoNT—SUR—SAMBRE、717E ARE FEDDLERS
The Cigarette returned with good news．There were beds to be had some ten minutes’walk from where we were，at a place called Pont．We stowed the canoes in a granary，and asked among the children for a guide．The circle at once widened round US，and our offers of reward were received in dispiriting silence．We were plainly a pair of Bluebeards to the children；they might speak to US in public places，and where they had the advantage of numbers；but it was another thing to venture off alone with two uncouth and legendary characters，who had dropped from the clouds upon their hamlet this quiet afternoon，sashed and beknifed，and with a flavor of great voyages．The owner of the granarycame tO our assistance，singled out one little fellow，and threatened himwith corporalities；or I suspect we should have had to find the way forourselves．As it was，he was more frightened at the granary man than thestrangers，having perhaps had some experience of the former．But I fancyhis little heart must have been going at a fine rate，for he kept trotting at arespectful distance in front，and looking back at US with scared eyes．Nototherwise may the children of the young world have guided Jove or oneof his Olympian compeers on an adventure． A miry lane led US up from Quartes，with its church and bickering windmill．The hinds were trudging homewards from the fields．A brisklittle old woman passed US by．She was seated across a donkey between a pair of glittering milk CanS，and，as she went，she kicked jauntily with her heels upon the donkey’S side，and scattered shrill remarks among the wayfarers．It was notable that none of the tired men took the trouble to reply．Our conductor soon led US out of the lane and across country．The sun had gone down，but the west in front of US was one lake of level gold．The path wandered awhile in the open，and then passed under a trellis like a bower indefinitely prolonged．On either hand were shadowy orchards；cottages lay low among the leaves and sent their smoke to heaven；every here and there，in an opening，appeared the great gold face of the west．
I never saw the Cigarette in such an idyllic flame of mind．He waxed positively lyrical in praise of country scenes．1 was little less exhilarated myself；the mild air of the evening，the shadows，the rich lights，and the silence make a symphonious accompaniment about our walk；and we both determined to avoid owns for the future and sleep in hamlets．
