The Days of a Man D 9 io 



Cirque de Thirty miles up the Pau, beyond the villages of 



G and\hl e ^ uz an ^ St. Sauveur, stands the magnificent rock 



Pyrenees amphitheater known as the Cirque de Gavarnie. At 



the end of the carriage road we hired for guide a 



vigorous and keen-witted peasant girl who had not 



been farther from her home than St. Sauveur and 



the Cirque, each about eight miles away. 



The Pyrenees, never having been glaciated, look 

 very unlike the Alps, with their irregular craggy 

 walls sculptured by rain and frost instead of ice. For 

 the same reason no lakes appear and no mountain 

 passes. Great cirques, semicircular excavations with 

 vertical sides, thus constitute the special feature of 

 the region. In the middle of Gavarnie, the Pau drops 

 off a wall nearly 2000 feet high in a slim cascade by 

 which, through the ages, the abyss has been scooped 

 out. 



From Lourdes again we started for Paris, stopping 



on ^ wav at tne ^ c * tv ^ Cahors to there observe 

 something of an unnoted French provincial town 

 where people live "close to the bone." The day was 

 interesting but on the whole saddening, as we saw 

 so many of our fellows, not abjectly poor but still 

 never knowing anything of leisure or comfort, not to 

 say luxury! 



Arrived in Paris, I set out to meet my colleagues 

 in the work for peace. And first of all I looked up 

 Ralph Lane, then editor of the Paris edition of the 

 Daily Mail, whose duty it was to select from the 

 London issue of that not over-scrupulous journal any 

 articles which seemed worth reprinting in France. 

 His full name, it was understood, was Ralph Norman 



C 318 n 



