234 A MONTH IN THE FORESTS OF FRANCE. 



there being no stable fit to put a donkey in, we fed 

 our horses in the best way we could in the little space 

 in front of the village inn. For Coco I turned a 

 barrel upside down, and fed him with some oats on 

 the bottom of it, while others invested their provender 

 in wheelbarrows, or buckets, or anything that would 

 enable a horse to pick up the corn. 



Many of the oats being spilt, I asked two or three 

 middling-looking girls belonging to the inn, but not 

 nearly so smart and pretty as the English barmaid ; 

 ** Oil sont les canards, et oil sontles oiseauxpour le roti, 

 et que nous bouillons avec des langues ? " and having 

 said this, in a female key I began to call the ducks and 

 chickens in the English fashion, who, either by acci- 

 dent or instinct, instantly appeared round corners at 

 my call, amidst a scream of French laughter, and 

 pitched most greedily into what seemed to be a 

 very well-relished as well as unusual meal. " The 

 chickens and the ducks," I exclaimed, " they frater- 

 nise with me. Ah ha, vous etes une jolie fille," I 

 said to the most tittering girl, at the same time 

 chucking her under the chin, which produced fresh 

 merriment, and sent her into the house to hide her 

 confusion. I then strolled into and inspected the 

 little church close by, of course taking my hat off at 

 the porch, with deep consideration, as the peasants 



