RANDOM MEMORIES 79 



below the mills, where surely the water 

 is better suited to his purpose ?" Jean 

 Pierre chuckled. '* Ah ! he knows only 

 too well where lie the pink-fleshed trout ; 

 below the mill are big fish, but white- 

 fleshed, poor for eating. The further you 

 go, the more lean and pallid do those fish 

 become. Then monsieur does not know 

 that desolate country down by the sea — 

 no hedges, no flowers, just a treeless 

 tract, where no birds sing ?" Jean 

 Pierre was fumbling for his snufF-pouch, 

 a sure sign of reminiscent anecdote. 

 I lay still in the long grass and lis- 

 tened. . . . 



" They say that many years ago this 

 land was stolen from the sea. A rich 

 farmer stole it, not a Breton, but a 

 foreigner, who came to these parts 

 boasting Uiat he would reclaim the soil. 

 The peasants would not help him build 

 his dyke, for they said : ' That which is 

 stolen does not profit a man, and least of 

 all that which is stolen from the sea. The 

 sea lends us this land for eight hours 

 each day, when we come to the beach 

 with our carts to bring home the sea- weed. 



