Five years ago, on a beautiful day in 

 September, I was descending a bollow 

 road in Brittany, going from the village 

 of Briantais to that of Saint-Jouan, one 

 of those broad, grass-grown foot-paths 

 which are so frequently found in that 

 province. On both sides of the road the 

 slopes rose like two green walls, planted 

 .". with chesnut-trees and pollards. The wheels 

 of the carts that had passed on this road had left deep 

 ruts where the rain had settled in pools, and in that 

 damp, moist soil, the pink flowers of the lesser centaury 

 appear in full bloom. 



