and
island and Cannes backgrounds. Automobile hold-ups with pistols
barking, the man and the maid in the woods and on the terrace, the
villain assaulting and the hero rescuing the defenseless woman, the
heroine jumping from a rock into the sea, and clinging to an upturned
boat--these are commonplace events on the Corniche de l'Esterel.

The world of cinemas and motors does not rise early. On the morning
walk, children and squirrels and birds were all one met. Children go
slowly, and squirrels and birds belong to nature. There was always
time to breathe in the forest and the sea and to look across to the
mountains. When _cartables_ and _gouters_ were handed over at the
school gate, parental responsibility ceased for three hours. One had
the choice of going on around the point towards Trayas or down to the
sea.

The people of Theoule say that Corsica, sixty miles away, can be seen
from the Esquillon. All one has to do is to keep going day after day
until "atmospheric conditions are favorable." The Touring-Club de
France has built a Belvedere at the extremity of the Esquillon. Arrows
on a dial indicate the direction of important places from Leghorn to
Marseilles. The Apennines behind Florence, as well as Corsica, are
marked as within the range of visibility. The Apennines had not been
seen for years, but Corsica was liable to appear at any time. The
first day the Artist went with me to the Esquillon, an Oldest
Inhabitant said that we had a Corsica day. A milkwoman _en route_
reported Corsica in sight, and told us to hurry. Towards nine o'clock
the sun raises a mist from the sea, she explained. In the belvedere we
found a girl without a guide book who had evidently come over from
Trayas. She was crouched down to dial level, and her eyes were
following the Corsica arrow. She did not look up or move when we
entered. Minutes passed. There was no offer to give us a chance. We
coughed and shuffled, and the Artist sang "The Little Gray Home in the
West." I informed the Artist--in French--that a specialist had once
remarked upon my hyperopic powers, and that if Corsica were really in
sight I could not fail to see it.

Not until she had to shake the cramp out of her back did the girl
straighten up.

"Corsica is invisible today," she announced.

"Yes," I answered sadly. "Ten minutes ago the mist began to come up.
You know, sun upon the water--"

A look in her eyes made me hesitate. "And all that sort o