A PEACEFUL SABBATH DAY li\ BRITTANY 



Photo by E. M. Newman 



the anguish of their minds, and the agony 

 of their souls. 



AMONG WORK-A-DAY FOLK 



With a circular ticket as a base, I wan- 

 dered to and fro for months, tarrying at 

 inns for a franc for a room and often 

 paying less for a meal. And thus the 

 people were seen and talked with. If 

 the good King of Yvetot was not seated 

 in sweet content under the fragrant apple 

 trees of Normandy, there were ruddy- 

 faced folk of peaceful aspect. Along 

 the flint-lined beaches of the Channel 

 were the bourgeoisie on vacation — sleek, 

 smooth, and well-garmented, in contrast 

 with the hardy toilers of the sea. The 

 sun-burnt, weather-beaten sailors were 

 of the type of Bans d'Islande, while there 



were hale, bare-footed women — oyster- 

 catchers, weed-gatherers, fish-bearers. 



There were other scenes in the south. 

 It was a new world, to breathe the air 

 of the glorious Pyrenees, even though 

 there were sad and motley groups at 

 Lourdes, then in its infancy of miracu- 

 lous cures. With anxious eagerness and 

 speechless voice many came to the sacred 

 spring, whence some went away with 

 bright hopes and grateful thanks. 



Less thrilling were the walks through 

 the "dead cities" and over the vine-clad, 

 grape-clustered, sun-favored slopes of 

 Cote-d'Or and along the noisy quays of 

 the great port of Marseilles. One got 

 a sense of the sweet devotion, especially 

 of the women, who always stopped for 

 a prayer at wayside shrines and who have 



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