e more struck by
the heather than any other form of vegetation. The mountains and hills
were covered with it, and whatever else we saw, heather was always in
the picture on the hills and mimosa along the roadside. From the roots
of transplanted Mediterranean heather--and not from briar--are made
what we call briarwood pipes. When a salesman assures you that the
pipe he offers is "genuine briar," if it really was briar, you would
think it wasn't. When names have become trademarks, we have to persist
in their misuse.

Vallauris was called the golden valley (_vallis aurea_) because of the
pottery the Romans discovered the natives making from the fine clay of
the banks of the little stream that runs into the Golfe Juan. For
twenty centuries the inhabitants of Vallauris have found no reason to
change their _metier_. They are still making dishes and vases and
statuettes, and there is still plenty of clay. Moreover, modern
methods have not found a substitute either for the potter at his wheel
or for the little ovens of limited capacity when it comes to turning
out work that is flawless and bears the stamp of individuality. We can
manufacture almost everything en masse and in series except pottery.
Joseph-Marie was not in evidence at Vallauris: but we found the potters
glad to show us their work, seemingly for the pride they had in it. Of
course you did have a chance to buy: but salesmanship was not obtrusive.

The great industry of Cannes is fresh cut flowers. The flower market
of a morning in the Allees de la Liberte is richer in variety than that
of Nice. There is less charm, however, in the sellers. In Nice you
simply cannot help buying what is offered you. Pretty faces and soft
pleading voices draw the money from your pocket. You look from the
flowers to those who offer them: and then you buy the flowers. At
Cannes, on the other hand, you ask yourself first what in the world you
are going to do with them after you have them. Perhaps this difference
in your mood is the reason of the enormous industry that has been
developed in Cannes. You are not asked to buy flowers because a seller
wants you to and is able to lure you with a smile. You are told that
here is the unique chance to send your friends in Paris and London a
bit of the springtime fragrance of the Riviera.

"Three francs, five francs, ten francs, _monsieur_, and tomorrow
morning in Paris or tomorrow evening in London the postman will deliver
t