Basque Language 



and indeed it looked as if good-sized trout were to be 

 caught. 



I cannot imagine a pleasanter excursion for people who 

 like scenery and angling than to wander with a rod and 

 sketch-book through these beautiful, well-watered valleys. 



At Mondragon we baited, and I hung my cloak, damp 

 with the rains of yesterday, from the railing of the balcony 

 over the river, to dry in the sun. Below were a bevy of 

 washerwomen chattering away in their language, which 

 sounds a little like Welsh, but a nobler breadth of enuncia- 

 tion, and without that horrid lisping LI. Here I took my 

 first lesson in the Basque language of our landlady, and this 

 is what I learnt : — 



Egg-en-noon (good day). 



Gab-boon (good night). 



Khat-t^n (to eat). 



Err-rat-t6n (to drink). 



On to Villa Real. Here a man treated for our ponies, 

 but we could not do any business. We came in sight of a 

 very grand, massive mountain, with a peak in front some- 

 thing like a saddle. We learned it was called Peria del 

 Mezqueta, which sounds like a Moorish title. 



At Villa Franca, a quaint, compact, old-fashioned little 

 town, we stopped for the night. We fed the ponies on 

 maize, which they ate greedily. A man in the stables 

 treated for our horses, at least disparaged them, showing a 

 disposition to buy ; but we had rather work them through 

 to the end, for the frontier is only ten leagues further, 

 which we hope to accomplish to-morrow. 



Next morning, in high spirits, we began our last day's 

 march among the winding valleys and over the round 

 green mountain-flanks of the Pyrenees. We breakfasted at 

 Tolosa on strawberries and cream. The people of this 



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