r of them was absent long enough to allow
time for explaining the cause.

Arrived at Toune, and myself well dried, we breakfasted together; after
which it was necessary to settle the important business of preparing
dinner. The young ladies cooked, kissing from time to time the farmer's
children, while the poor scullion looked on grumbling. Provisions had
been sent for from town, and there was everything necessary for a good
dinner, but unhappily they had forgotten wine; this forgetfulness was by
no means astonishing to girls who seldom drank any, but I was sorry for
the omission, as I had reckoned on its help, thinking it might add to my
confidence. They were sorry likewise, and perhaps from the same motive;
though I have no reason to say this, for their lively and charming gayety
was innocence itself; besides, there were two of them, what could they
expect from me? they went everywhere about the neighborhood to seek for
wine, but none could be procured, so pure and sober are the peasants in
those parts. As they were expressing their concern, I begged them not to
give themselves any uneasiness on my account, for while with them I had
no occasion for wine to intoxicate me. This was the only gallantry I
ventured at during the whole of the day, and I believe the sly rogues saw
well enough that I said nothing but the truth.

We dined in the kitchen; the two friends were seated on the benches, one
on each side the long table, and their guest at the end, between them, on
a three--legged stool. What a dinner! how charming the remembrance!
While we can enjoy, at so small an expense, such pure, such true
delights, why should we be solicitous for others? Never did those
'petite soupes', so celebrated in Paris, equal this; I do not only say
for real pleasure and gayety, but even for sensuality.

After dinner, we were economical; instead of drinking the coffee we had
reserved at breakfast, we kept it for an afternoon collation, with cream,
and some cake they had brought with them. To keep our appetites in play,
we went into the orchard, meaning to finish our dessert with cherries.
I got into a tree, throwing them down bunches, from which they returned
the stones through the branches. One time, Mademoiselle Galley, holding
out her apron, and drawing back her head, stood so fair, and I took such
good aim, that I dropped a bunch into her bosom. On her laughing, I said
to myself, "Why are not my lips cherries? How gladly wo