plains and
the drawbridge looked irresistible--the men swarmed down the bank and
over the ditch--one saw a confused mass of red trousers and kepis. The
cavalry came along very leisurely, guarding the rear. I looked for the
general. He was standing with some of his staff on a small hill
directing operations. He did look stout and very red and warm; however,
it was the last day, so his troubles were over for the present.

One of the officers saw us and came up to pay his respects; said they
wouldn't be back at the chateau until about five; perhaps the ladies
would come to the stable-yard and see the pansage. It was quite
interesting; all the horses ranged in a semi-circle, men scrubbing and
combing hard, the sous-officiers superintending, the officers standing
about smoking and seeing that everything was being packed and ready for
an early start the next morning. I was astonished to see how small the
horses were. My English horse, also a chestnut, was not particularly
big, but he looked a giant among the others. They admired him very much,
and one of the officers asked Hubert if he thought I would like to sell
him.

Our dinner was again very pleasant, and we had more halma in the
evening. W. played once or twice, and as he was a fairly good player,
the adversaries had no chance. We broke up early, as they were to start
again at some unearthly hour the next morning. It seems they were very
lively in the stables after dinner--we heard sounds of merriment,
singing, and choruses, and, I fancy, dancing. However, it made quite a
pleasant break in our summer, and the big place seemed quieter and
lonelier than ever after such unusual animation. W. said the war talk
was much keener than the first day when they were smoking in the
gallery; all the young ones so eager to earn their stripes, and so
confident that the army had profited by its bitter experience during the
Franco-German War.

* * * * *

Election day is always a very important day in France. The village
farmers and labourers put on their best clothes--usually a black coat,
silk hat and white shirt--and take themselves solemnly to the Mairie
where the voting takes place. For weeks beforehand agents and lecturers
come from Paris and bamboozle the simple village people with newspapers,
money and wonderful promises. It is astounding how easily the French
peasant believes all that the political agents tell him and all that he
reads in the c