facetious Work of the End of the Sixteenth
Century (edition of 1609).]

This silly nonsense, compiled like oracles, was printed as late as 1493.
Eighty years later a gentleman of Brittany, named Noel du Fail, Lord of
Herissaye, councillor in the Parliament of Rennes, published, under the
title of "Rustic and Amusing Discourses," a work intended to counteract
the influence of the famous "Evangile des Quenouilles." This new work was
a simple and true sketch of country habits, and proved the elegance and
artless simplicity of the author, as well as his accuracy of observation.
He begins thus: "Occasionally, having to retire into the country more
conveniently and uninterruptedly to finish some business, on a particular
holiday, as I was walking I came to a neighbouring village, where the
greater part of the old and young men were assembled, in groups of
separate ages, for, according to the proverb, 'Each seeks his like.' The
young were practising the bow, jumping, wrestling, running races, and
playing other games. The old were looking on, some sitting under an oak,
with their legs crossed, and their hats lowered over their eyes, others
leaning on their elbows criticizing every performance, and refreshing the
memory of their own youth, and taking a lively interest in seeing the
gambols of the young people."

The author states that on questioning one of the peasants to ascertain who
was the cleverest person present, the following dialogue took place: "The
one you see leaning on his elbow, hitting his boots, which have white
strings, with a hazel stick, is called Anselme; he is one of the rich ones
of the village, he is a good workman, and not a bad writer for the flat
country; and the one you see by his side, with his thumb in his belt,
hanging from which is a large game bag, containing spectacles and an old
prayer book, is called Pasquier, one of the greatest wits within a day's
journey--nay, were I to say two I should not be lying. Anyhow, he is
certainly the readiest of the whole company to open his purse to give
drink to his companions." "And that one," I asked, "with the large
Milanese cap on his head, who holds an old book?" "That one," he answered,
"who is scratching the end of his nose with one hand and his beard with
the other?" "That one," I replied, "and who has turned towards us?" "Why,"
said he, "that is Roger Bontemps, a merry careless fellow, who up to the
age of fifty kept the parish school; but changing his