So ECHOES OF OLD COUNTY LIFE. 



embraced me enthusiastically — the girl was equally 

 excited ; they scarcely knew how to express themselves, 

 so delighted were they that we dared to speak out 

 boldly. It showed at once how truly the old Royalist 

 feeling still existed in this valley of the Loire. 



At Macau, a place on the banks of that not very 

 attractive stream, the Garonne, Mr. Arthur Johnstone 

 met us with his carriage and horses to take us to his 

 chateau at Dausac. Here we were received most 

 kindly by the mother of our host and his father, Mr. 

 Nathaniel Johnstone, the head of the great firm. With 

 them we visited their vineyards to see the gathering 

 of the grapes, and the whole process of making the 

 celebrated " Claret," a title which, of course, is almost 

 unknown in France, as all the wine of that district is 

 called " Vin de Bordeaux," and then named after the 

 estate or property, as " Lafitte," '' Margaux," and so on. 



The grapes, gathered carefully in baskets, are carried 

 to waggons in which rest two large wicker panniers. 

 Each waggon is drawn by two bullocks, of a light brown 

 or dun colour, with wide-spreading horns of large size. 

 These carts are drawn up to an opening in the wall of 

 the factory ; the grapes are thrown on to an inclined 

 plane, whence the bunches slide down on to a sieve or 

 wire table, by which stand fine-looking, cleanly men, with 

 bared arms, who pick out the unripe or decayed grapes 

 and scratch or rub them through this coarse sieve. The 

 grapes and juice fall through into a trough underneath, 

 the bunch and stalks being left behind, and the grapes, 

 some of which are crushed and others whole, are then 

 carried in large vessels and poured into mighty vats, hold- 



