that it seems always longing for a larger and more continuous
allowance of the sunshine which is so much to its taste. You might
fancy something querulous or plaintive in that rustling movement of
the vine-leaves, as blue-frocked Jacques Bonhomme finishes his day's
labour among them.

To beguile one such afternoon when the rain set in early and walking
was impossible, I found my way to the shop of an old dealer in bric-
a-brac. It was not a monotonous display, after the manner of the
Parisian dealer, of a stock-in-trade the like of which one has seen
many times over, but a discriminate collection of real curiosities.
One seemed to recognise a provincial school of taste in various
relics of the housekeeping of the last century, with many a gem of
earlier times from the old churches and religious houses of the
neighbourhood. Among them was a large and brilliant fragment of
stained glass which might have come from the cathedral itself. Of
the very finest quality in colour and design, it presented a figure
not exactly conformable to any recognised ecclesiastical type; and it
was clearly part of a series. On my eager inquiry for the remainder,
the old man replied that no more of it was [53] known, but added that
the priest of a neighbouring village was the possessor of an entire
set of tapestries, apparently intended for suspension in church, and
designed to portray the whole subject of which the figure in the
stained glass was a portion.

Next afternoon accordingly I repaired to the priest's house, in
reality a little Gothic building, part perhaps of an ancient manor-
house, close to the village church. In the front garden, flower-
garden and potager in one, the bees were busy among the autumn
growths--many-coloured asters, bignonias, scarlet-beans, and the old-