The meadows through which the little path ran were
dotted all over with golden spots of lotus, and near the water the pale,
pure yellow of the evening primrose shone against the darkening willows.
The voices of unseen peasants, labouring somewhere in the fields so long
as the daylight lasted, were carried up the valley by the breeze, just
loosened from its leash; but the sound was only a little louder than the
whispering of the poplars.
The gloaming lingered until I reached the village of Cazoules. At the inn
where I decided to pass the night I fell among bicyclists--quite a crowd of
them--all young, frantic with the excitement of some break-neck run, and
noisy enough to shock the dog's sense of decorum, for he slunk off with
his tail between his legs. Having slaked their thirst, the jovial band
of enthusiasts sprang upon their steel horses and dashed off into the
darkness, where their voices were quickly lost.
While waiting for dinner, I found nothing so amusing as listening to a high
dispute between the hostess and a travelling butcher, with whom she had
long had dealings, but whom she had lately deserted because she had found
another who sold cheaper.
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