My meal was chiefly of fried eggs and ham, the latter nearly as
hard as leather. I ate in a small room where there was a bed with a red
curtain. No knife was given me, for in these out-of-the-way inns you are
expected to carry your knife in your pocket, which a century ago was the
case in most of the French hostelries. In the remotely rural districts the
ways of life have changed very slightly in a hundred years. But, if
the knife was overlooked, the white napkin and small tablecloth were
remembered. While talking with the _aubergiste_ over the coffee--there was
really some coffee here that was not made either from acorns or beans--he
told me, as an example of the low rate of wages in the district, that a
road--mender, who worked in all weathers, was paid forty francs a month.
In the whole commune there were only two or three persons who had wine in
their houses. He lent me his two sons--the _seminariste_ and his young
brother--to walk with me as far as the Luxege, and put me on the path to La
Page, at which village I proposed to pass the night.
As we left, a grand expanse of chestnut forest came into view, following
the hills that bordered the curved line of the Luxege.
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