HOME OF THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 307 
face, black hair and evidences of an abundant beard 
in reserve. As he came in he cast an anxious glance 
at the neatly-spread table, where one plate, one bottle 
of wine, and bread and napkin for one, plainly indi- 
cated that the curé did not expect visitors, — and then 
at the sideboard, where was a dish heaped with fruit, 
and another bottle of wine; and then a smile spread 
over his countenance, and he advanced to meet me. 
After a few compliments — for I saw the worthy curé 
was unhappy about something —I handed him the 
letter, which stated substantially that I wished per- 
mission to photograph the church, and desired a 
glimpse of the ancient registers, and recommended 
me to his good offices. As he read, there appeared 
upon his face a multitudinous smile. He assured me 
that most certainly I could photograph the church, 
that it would give him actual pain if I did not, etc. ; 
then ensued a painful pause. My friend had told 
him that I could find no place in which to sleep, 
which he had not apparently heard, or, rather, con- 
cluded that it mattered not to a naturalist, who could 
probably sleep anywhere, like a bat, hanging up by 
his toes. 
Meanwhile, a savory odor came in from the kitchen. 
It was pretty evident that soup was ready and being 
kept in waiting over the coals; that the mutton even 
was ready to be served, and the fish swimming in its 
sauce. ‘The curé’s nostrils dilated, while a look of 
sadness stole over his face. My friend then suggested 
that I had ordered dinner at the baker’s; after discuss- 
ing which, my only thought was for a couch, a rug, 
a floor — anything, so I had shelter from the even- 
ing damp. The curé’s face brightened, then clouded 
