NOTES ON NORMANDY 



775 



Beyond the Cilician Gates to the 

 northward forests continue for lo or 20 

 miles, but they soon disappear, because 

 the rainfall diminishes rapidly as soon 

 as the crest of the Taurus Mountains is 

 passed. 



At length the road, a well-made 

 macadam highway, leaves the Cliakit 

 Valley, which it enters beyond the gates, 

 and rises over bare hills unrelieved by 

 any trees except an occasional bit of oak 

 or cedar scrub. Shepherds begin to be 

 seen on every side with their flocks. 



Little farm-houses are no longer scat- 

 tered about here and there wherever there 

 is a bit of land smooth enough for culti- 

 vation, but in their stead villages are 

 seen clustered about the occasional 

 springs, where alone it is possible to get 

 water throughout the year. 



The houses are no longer built with 

 sloping roofs, thatched or shingled to 

 keep ofif the rain and full of half-hewn 

 logs of fine timber. They are made of 

 mud and stones, with scarcely a trace of 

 wood except for the beams on which the 

 flat mud roof is laid above a layer of 

 brush. What need of a sloping roof 

 where the rainfall is so scanty, and, if 

 one is needed, how can it be constructed 

 where there is no wood and all men are 

 poor? 



In traveling back and forth between 

 the coastal fringe of forests and the dry 

 plateau of Asia Minor, nothing is more 

 impressive than the contrast mentioned 

 at the beginning of this article. Not 



NOTES ON 

 By Mrs. Geo. 



THE early history of Normandy, 

 even taking it only from the reign 

 of Richard the Fearless (997), 

 explains in itself why today, to those 

 who look below the surface, Normandy 

 seems in many ways a separate land 

 from France. The 30 years of English 

 occupation under Henry V have left 

 their lasting impress, though its natural 



only are the scenery, the architecture, 

 the methods of farming, and the whole 

 manner of life of the inhabitants of the 

 two regions highly diverse, but the char- 

 acter of the people themselves differs 

 greatly. This may be due partly to in- 

 heritance, but much of it arises from the 

 nature of the land. 



The dweller in the open dry country is 

 relatively poor; he often suffers from 

 want, due to bad crops ; he travels much 

 from place to place with his animals, and 

 the outlook from his door is broad, and 

 he sees the stranger approaching from 

 a distance and is not alarmed bv his sud- 

 den appearance. Hence he is ready to 

 share his meager supplies with others, 

 because he knows the need of help, and 

 his nature is comparatively unsuspicious 

 and hospitable. 



With the inhabitant of the forests it 

 is different. He lives in comparative 

 comfort and rarely suffers from actual 

 want. He dwells apart oftentimes and 

 at most sees few strangers. When they 

 come to him he is worried and suspi- 

 cious. He is not ready to receive them, 

 because in his own experience and in 

 that of his forefathers there has been 

 little need of asking hospitality from 

 others. 



In these ways and a thousand others 

 the life and character of men reflect the 

 peculiarities of their land. The soul of 

 the people can only be understood by 

 looking through the eyes of Nature. 



NORMANDY 

 C. BossoN, Jr. 



position demands that it should be an 

 integral part of France. 



That Norman power of adaptation to 

 circumstance was the "fatal gift," so ap- 

 parent in its Sicilian conquest, which has 

 destroyed the Norman as a separate race. 

 It has been said that ''the finished his- 

 torian must be a traveler," but one who 

 possesses to the full the instincts of the 



