>>> YOU ARE VIEWING A 200 LINE SAMPLE OF EBOOK# E07110 <<< TITLE: IN AND OUT OF THREE NORMANDY INNS AUTHOR: ANNA BOWMAN DODD EBOOK: E07110 (O'Briens Book Cellar) LANGUAGE: ENGLISH IN AND OUT OF THREE NORMANDY INNS BY ANNA BOWMAN DODD [Illustration: GUILLAUME-LE-CONQUERANT-DIVES] TO EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN. _My Dear Mr. Stedman: To this little company of Norman men and women, you will, I know, extend a kindly greeting, if only because of their nationality. To your courtesy, possibly, you will add the leaven of interest, when you perceive--as you must--that their qualities are all their own, their defects being due solely to my own imperfect presentment. With sincere esteem_, ANNA BOWMAN DODD. _New York_. CONTENTS. VILLERVILLE. I. A LANDING ON THE COAST OF FRANCE II. A SPRING DRIVE III. FROM AN INN WINDOW IV. OUT ON A MUSSEL-BED V. THE VILLAGE VI. A PAGAN COBBLER VII. SOME NORMAN LANDLADIES VIII. THE QUARTIER LATIN ON THE BEACH IX. A NORMAN HOUSEHOLD X. ERNESTINE ALONG AN OLD POST-ROAD. XI. TO AN OLD MANOIR XII. A NORMAN CURE XIII. HONFLEUR--NEW AND OLD DIVES. XIV. A COAST DRIVE XV. GUILLAUME-LE-CONQUERANT XVI. THE GREEN BENCH XVII. THE WORLD THAT CAME TO DIVES XVIII. THE CONVERSATION OF PATRIOTS XIX. IN LA CHAMBRE DES MARMOUSETS TWO BANQUETS AT DIVES. XX. A SEVENTEENTH CENTURY REVIVAL XXI. THE AFTER-DINNER TALK OF THREE GREAT LADIES XXII. A NINETEENTH CENTURY BREAKFAST A LITTLE JOURNEY ALONG THE COAST. XXIII. A NIGHT IN A CAEN ATTIC XXIV. A DAY AT BAYEUX AND ST. LO XXV. A DINNER AT COUTANCES XXVI. A SCENE IN A NORMAN COURT XXVII. THE FETE-DIEU--A JUNE CHRISTMAS XXVIII. BY LAND TO MONT ST. MICHEL MONT ST. MICHEL. XXIX. BY SEA TO THE POULARD INN XXX. THE PILGRIMS AND THE SHRINE--AN HISTORICAL OMELETTE LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. GUILLAUME-LE-CONQUERANT--DIVES A VILLAGE STREET--VILLERVILLE ON THE BEACH--VILLERVILLE A SALE OF MUSSELS--VILLERVILLE A VILLERVILLE FISH-WIFE A DEPARTURE--VILLERVILLE THE INN AT DIVES--GUILLAUME-LE-CONQUERANT CHAMBRE DE LA PUCELLE--DIVES CHAMBRE DES MARMOUSETS--DIVES MADAME DE SEVIGNE CHAMBRE DE LA PUCELLE--DIVES CHATEAU FONTAINE LE HENRI, NEAR CAEN AN EXCITING MOMENT--A COUTANCES INTERIOR A STREET IN COUTANCES--EGLISE SAINT-PIERRE MONT SAINT MICHEL MONT SAINT MICHEL SNAIL-GATHERERS VILLERVILLE. AN INN BY THE SEA. CHAPTER I. A LANDING ON THE COAST OF FRANCE. Narrow streets with sinuous curves; dwarfed houses with minute shops protruding on inch-wide sidewalks; a tiny casino perched like a bird-cage on a tiny scaffolding; bath-houses dumped on the beach; fishing-smacks drawn up along the shore like so many Greek galleys; and, fringing the cliffs--the encroachment of the nineteenth century--a row of fantastic sea-side villas. This was Villerville. Over an arch of roses; across a broad line of olives, hawthorns, laburnums, and syringas, straight out to sea-- This was the view from our windows. Our inn was bounded by the sea on one side, and on the other by a narrow village street. The distance between good and evil has been known to be quite as short as that which lay between these two thoroughfares. It was only a matter of a strip of land, an edge of cliff, and a shed of a house bearing the proud title of Hotel-sur-Mer. Two nights before, our arrival had made quite a stir in the village streets. The inn had given us a characteristic French welcome; its eye had measured us before it had extended its hand. Before reaching the inn and the village, however, we had already tasted of the flavor of a genuine Norman welcome. Our experience in adventure had begun on the Havre quays. Our expedition could hardly be looked upon as perilous; yet it was one that, from the first, evidently appealed to the French imagination; half Havre was hanging over the stone wharves to see us start. "_Dame_, only English women are up to that!"--for all the world is English, in French eyes, when an adventurous folly is to be committed. This was one view of our temerity; it was the comment of age and experience of the world, of the cap with the short pipe in her mouth, over which curved, downward, a bulbous, fiery-hued nose that met the pipe. "_C'est beau, tout de meme_, when one is young--and rich." This was a generous partisan, a girl with a miniature copy of her own round face--a copy that was tied up in a shawl, very snug; it was a bundle that could not possibly be in any one's way, even on a somewhat prolonged tour of observation of Havre's shipping interests. "And the blonde one--what do you think of her, _hein_?" This was the blouse's query. The tassel of the cotton night-cap nodded, interrogatively, toward the object on which the twinkling ex-mariner's eye had fixed itself--on Charm's slender figure, and on the yellow half-moon of hair framing her face. There was but one verdict concerning the blonde beauty; she was a creature made to be stared at. The staring was suspended only when the bargaining went on; for Havre, clearly, was a sailor and merchant first; its knowledge of a woman's good points was rated merely as its second-best talent. Meanwhile, our bargaining for the sailboat was being conducted on the principles peculiar to French traffic; it had all at once assumed the aspect of dramatic complication. It had only been necessary for us to stop on our lounging stroll along the stone wharves, diverting our gaze for a moment from the grotesque assortment of old houses that, before now, had looked down on so many naval engagements, and innocently to ask a brief question of a nautical gentleman, picturesquely attired in a blue shirt and a scarlet beret, for the quays immediately to swarm with jerseys and red caps. Each beret was the owner of a boat; and each jersey had a voice louder than his brother's. Presently the battle of tongues was drowning all other sounds. In point of fact, there were no other sounds to drown. All other business along the quays was being temporarily suspended; the most thrilling event of the day was centring in us and our treaty. Until this bargain was closed, other matters could wait. For a Frenchman has the true instinct of the dramatist; business he rightly considers as only an _entr'acte_ in life; the serious thing is the _scene de theatre_, wherever it takes place. Therefore it was that the black, shaky-looking houses, leaning over the quays, were now populous with frowsy heads and cotton nightcaps. The captains from the adjacent sloops and tug-boats formed an outer circle about the closer ring made by the competitors for our favors, while the loungers along the parapets, and the owners of top seats on the shining quay steps, may be said to have been in possession of orchestra stalls from the first rising of the curtain. A baker's boy and two fish-wives, trundling their carts, stopped to witness the last act of the play. Even the dogs beneath the carts, as they sank, panting, to the ground, followed, with red-rimmed eyes, the closing scenes of the little drama. "_Allons_, let us end this," cried a piratical-looking captain, in a loud, masterful voice. And he named a price lower than the others had bid. He would take us across--yes, us and our luggage, and land us--yes, at Villerville, for that. The baker's boy gave a long, slow whistle, with relish. <<< END OF SAMPLE... (THE FULL EBOOK HAS 553085 TOTAL CHARACTERS) >>>