A Ramble through Normandy; or, scenes, characters, and incidents in a sketching excursion through Calvados

Front matter

.Tl Jolibrns Page 74. THE SCHOOL OF THE RABBIN. From aWmdow in the North. Aisle of the Church of S Ouen PONT AUDEMER: (Eure) A RAMBLE THROUGH NORMANDY; 0 B , Scenes, Characters, anli |nciknfs IN A SKETCHING EXCURSION THROUGH CALVADOS. By GEORGE M. MUSGRAVE, M.A., Author us "The Parson, Pen, and Pencil," "Nine and Two," etc. etc. LONDON: DAVID BOGUE, FLEET STEEET. MDCCCLT. " La Normandie ! Terre b^nie du Ciel ! Les vieux Sges y vivent encore dans leur severe elegance, dans toute la majeste de leurs souvenirs. Terre feconde en vieilles ruines, en frais paysages ; egalement ch£re a l'historien et au peintre, jamais elle ne sera trop c&e'bree A chaque pas, dans le pass^ et dans le present, vous rencontrez un grand monument, ou un grand homme." — Jules Janin. LONDON : THOMAS HAEBILD, PBINTEB, SILVEB STBEET, FALCOK" SQUABS.

TO PETER BARROW, Esq., HEE BBITANNIC MAJESTY'S VICE-CONSUL AT CAEN, ff&B fnllnming COMFETSITSG DETAILS AND ILLUSTRATIONS OF A TOUB, WHOSE MOST PLEASING INCIDENT WAS THE FORMATION OF HIS ACQUAINTANCE, ARE GRATEFULLY INSCRIBED BY HIS FAITHFUL FRIEND AND CORRESPONDENT, fjje |tutlror. PEEFACE. I am old enough to remember the days when travellers from England arriving at Calais were occasionally obliged to walk over three quarters of a mde of Jetty before they could enter tbe Town, and felt that although they had reached the French King's territory they were not yet setting foot upon the soil of France. The mercilessly long wooden Pier was considered a grievous nuisance; and a lengthy Preface to any book is so generally regarded in the same disadvan tageous Ught, that I have made a point of emulating the modern Steam-vessel, and of landing my Reader alongside of the Dedication, with only three steps to take before entering at once into the whole subject matter of the book.

I. I only wish to bespeak a little consideration and indulgence in respect of any disadvantages arising from the Printer, Engraver, and Author living two VI

Preface

. hundred and eight miles apart; and from many a touch and memorandum having been only partially understood, where perfect comprehension was, of all things, most desirable. II. I am also desirous to state that Chapter xii. was in print before the Quarterly Review of last September was published. The two very interesting papers on "The London Commissariat," and "On Bells," served, therefore, to confirm, but certainly not to supply, the information embodied in these pages. III. I recommend a glance at the diminutive list of Errata, which wdl prevent both Author and Printer from suffering under misconception; and I trust that if any party shall be induced upon perusal of what I have here written to make my Plan de Route the scenes of their next Summer excursion, — and I recommend August above all other months, — they will set their seal to this little volume that I have made it a record of only the plain and simple Truth.

This may disarm Criticism of her sharpened weapon, and weigh with the faithful, yet not unrea sonable, Censors who, in doing their duty by the Reading Public, may care to review the matters treated in my unpretending Narrative. Every man,

PREFACE.

. VII however, who writes and prints must be prepared for his literary responsibilities ; and being best ac quainted with this portion of an author's risk I put the best face upon it that I can ! G. M. WlTHECOMBE KsUsEGH, Exmouth. CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAGE I. — Introduction .... 1 II. — From Dieppe to Bouen, by Eailway . 32 III. — Pont Audemee . . . .64 IV. — Pont Audemer and Honfleur . 95 V.— Caen 117 VI.— Caen 143 VIL- Caen 161 VIII.— Caen 185 IX.-Caen 211 X. — Corseulles and Bayeux . . 232 XL— Bayeux . . . . .257 XII.— Caen 284 XIII.— Caen 328 XIV.— Viee ..... 360 XV.— Falaise 382 XVI.— Falaise . ... 415 XVII.— The Faie of Guibeay . . . 434 XVIII.-Lisieux 453 XIX. — Feom Lisieux to Neufchatel and Rouen 485 XX. — From Normandy into Artois . . 524 XXI.— Conclusion .... A RAMBLE THROUGH NORMANDY.

Chapter I

The reflections arising from a perusal of our Country's history, in connection with Continental nations, between the eleventh and sixteenth centuries, will never cease to awaken interest in the mind of a duly-enlightened Englishman, at every mention of Normandy. But when, in conjunction with these Historical reminiscences, this favoured Province asserts her precedency among the most delightful of all pleasant lands, — her pre-eminence in such a genial soil and climate as that of France, — it cannot be matter of surprise, now that the two shores are in the closest intercommunication, to find tourist following tourist in these regions, and bringing out of treasured recollec tions " things new and old " from the Departments of Seine Inferieure, Eure, Calvados, Orne, and Manche. Normandy at large, and Calvados in particular, is, undoubtedly, one of the most beautiful tracts of country on this fair Earth, and repays, with accu mulated gratifications, the fatigue of travel and the labour of long and arduous study in whatever department of art or science the inquiring mind may pursue its researches.

The Antiquarian and Geologist B INFLUENCES OF FRENCH SCENERY. may here find occupation for a life of patriarchal longevity ; the Naturalist and Architect may well be disposed here to set up their rest ; the Artist, con templating in one moment of time a hundred thou sand acres of Eden-like landscape of Norman forests, fields, and valleys, gazes and turns away, feeling delineation to be a thing impossible. The range of such landscape is immense; and the consciousness of its extension over a thriving country, and the homes of an intelligent and enlightened population, enhances the delight of contemplating such living pictures ; — for Man is not a growth that dwindles there. Switzerland, Italy, Sicily, may assert a glorious pre-eminence in land and water scenery, and high antiquity : — They involve in this respect, certainly, all that is sublime and beautiful : still, they suggested not to me the idea of rapidly-advancing prosperity, knowledge, and civiliza tion.

In days long since past, it was my good fortune to make what is termed the "Grand Tour;" and even in comparative youth I appreciated the beauteous ness of Lombardy, Tuscany, the Adriatic and Cala brian shores, and all the charms, withal, of Classical reminiscences ; but strong, enduring, and indelible as those impressions have proved, the influences exercised upon mind and heart by familiarity with the paysage riant of France is of a more genial, I would almost say of a more blessed, nature ; and at the period of my recent visit, — when the valleys were standing thick with corn, and the land seemed to be flowing with mdk and honey, and the harvest speed ing blithely amid laugh and song, and plenteousness enriching the garners, and peace prevailing through- RESEMBLANCE TO ENGLISH LANDSCAPES. out the realm — there was something of holiness in the aspect of creation thus gladdened and adorned ; and, as Sterne beautifully expresses it, " methought I saw Religion mixing in the " scene.

It is no disparagement to these claims on our admiration, on the part of Normandy, that the prominent features of her attractiveness should exhibit all the characteristics of the English picturesque and beautiful. On the contrary, it is singularly interesting to find the scenery of one's native land reproduced with entirely new actors, and (as a stage-manager would add) with new dresses and decorations ; to say nothing of a foreign language in which the drama of real life, serious or comic, from grave to gay, from lively to severe, is to be represented. Moreover, there ,is some little share of amour propre in the enjoyment of these tableaux vivants. The most casual observer soon finds himself animated with the spirit of self-gratulation, and " stands on tiptoe " when the natives ingenuously exclaim, "We are told, our pretty country hereabout is wonderfully like your own."

Every tourist conversant with the greenest spots and loveliest villages of the plain, in our native land, rejoices in the resemblance, " et dulces reminiscitur Argos," calling up the faithful memory of England's farms and hamlets, and living anew in the lively semblance and counterfeit present ment of sweet home. All identity, however, ends here. The manners, customs, and costumes of the people speedily remind us, when once among them, that we are on foreign ground ; and that proper study of mankind which the contemplation of Man b ATTRACTIONS OF THE PAYS DE CAUX. suggests, becomes as entertaining as the most inquisitive of travellers would desire. The French character is unique ; and, as is well known, the insignifi cant transit of only twenty-one miles' breadth of channel introduces the British subject to a race to which his own wdl, evidently, never be assimilated, — to a tongue in which he will never congenially speak ; to habits, usages, laws and institutions, religion, and policy which awaken but slightly his sympathies, and to whose influence he even hopes to continue for ever strange.

I am speaking, of course, of the impressions made upon the generality — on the average mind of foreign tourists ; not of the animus actuating any sentiments of my own. Seven years have elapsed since I first saw Rouen, the Barentin district (which I visited expressly to inspect its best farms), and Dieppe : and pleasurable, indeed, were the recollections of the Department of Seine Inferieure. Returning however into England, and giving account, orally and typographically, of my pilgrimage, I was only too often chaUenged with inquiries respecting the Cauchois, the quarries, and the lace-makers, and the Conqueror ! — cross-examined as to Arlette and Duke Robert; pitied for not having roamed through the Val d'Ante and the Vaux de Vire ; and for having neglected the opportunity of tracing Harold's perjury on the Tapestry of Bayeux.

It was evident I had gained but little insight into Normandy, and that at some future day the Department of Calvados was to become the locale for a special excursion. Within that territory lay Honfleur, Bayeux, Vire, Falaise, Lisieux, and Caen; — the birth-place and tomb of NORMAN ANTIQUITIES AND LANGUAGE. William the Conqueror; the cradles, nomenclature, and blazonry of our ancient Noblesse ; the master pieces of Gothic architecture and early English Church building ; the sod to which some of the most beauteous of our own Cathedrals, the " White Tower," old London-bridge, and many a venerable monument of the middle ages, still extant among us, were indebted for their decorative and long-enduring stone ; the climate, which ripens the finest grain and fruit of France; and the language which, to this day, maintains its phraseology in our courts and forms of law, conveys the intimation of the Royal Assent, and infuses into our vernacular diction an accent and euphony which previous to the day of Hastings and the Conquest were unattainable and unknown.

A temporary sojourn in the South of Devonshire (where the eye is hourly trained and educated for the contemplation of all that is beautiful in the fair face of Nature), suggested the opportunity of improving my very imperfect acquaintance with the Northern shores of France. I may as well plead guilty to a little foible which, it is to be presumed, an early initiation in Continental travelling may have origin ated ; — the wish, I mean, as June and sunshine advance, to be landed at the base of those white cliffs that separate by only a few short leagues the two greatest nations in the Universe. It is " a very mid summer madness ;" — but, if change of air and scene be found desirable ; if a few fitful symptoms of dys pepsia, or a transient touch of gout, or an access, it may be, of very natural and pardonable melan- REFLEX OF THE SOUTH-WEST OF ENGLAND. choly, have disturbed the even tenor of existence, I know of no sweet oblivious antidote more potent in the restoration of body and mind than the inno cent stimulus of such an excursion.

I had filled a portfolio with sketches from the banks of Exe ; had gazed with rapture on the heather and granite of Dartmoor, and explored the very foundations of Powderham Castle (within sight of my own library window), and there was reminded that, " When the Conqueror to the West did come. Courtenay and Coplestone were at home ;" and this set me thinking about William of Nor mandy, and Matilda, and the counterpart of Devon shire, apple crops, lace-making, and much more which would prove the reflex of what were regarded as the features and characteristics of our Western shore ; — and, for the matter of mere distance, it was not farther from Exmouth to the choir of St. Etienne in Caen, than from Exmouth to London-bridge, were I to " go a-head " South-Easterly. However, I must needs take the metropolis en route; and my project finding grace with my Privy-council, I laid in a goodly supply of H. B. and B. B. B. lead pencils for the solid sketch-book I had adopted as my travelling companion ; and being at length, like Æneas, determined to start, and "jam certus eundi," I threw my Tient-tout portmanteau into the first boat lying off Passage-house, and rowed away for the train to Pad dington, on the morning of Tuesday, August the first, a.d. 1854.

It was past nine o'clock and a rainy morning when PLEASURE AND WATER. 7 I effected a safe landing at Star-cross to await the up-train from Plymouth, after joining in my wherry man's laugh at the half-somersault made by a por tentously fat dame who was put on shore about the same time in rather too great a hurry ; the result whereof was the temporary loss, not of her luggage, but of her equdibrium; on recovery of which she exclaimed, with one foot in the water, " Lor ! now ; to think how little I missed being drownded in the sea, and finished up at once ! There's nothing like being born a man into this world ; no, nothing \" Poor soul ! the porters did not seem to treat the accident, or her wet shoes, with much consideration : but she was a woman of weight — for had she accom panied her boxes into the scales, there would have been something smart to pay for twenty stone extra.

Leaving her in a position of rest much Uke that of a sack of wheat, I beguded the interval which was to elapse between my arrival and that of the up train, by a perusal of the placards of every hue in the rainbow (very appropriate colours, by-the-by,) affixed to the boarding of the platform. The rain was pouring down in torrents, and the. very aspect of the word regatta made one shiver. Each an nouncement seemed, in turn, to suggest the notions of wet, worry, and mortification ; drenched gowns, saturated bonnets, desponding bedes, despairing beaux ! When water descends from the clouds like ramrods, a prospectus of cinque-ports' aquatic EXCURSION, FANCY FAIR, FRUIT AND FLOWER-SHOW, GRAND ARCHERY MEETING, TORQUAY RACES, RUSTIC fete, splendid fireworks (! !) seems fraught with EXETER CATHEDRAL. all the elements of disappointment and failure.

The Zodiacal signs assume the most sinister juxtapositions ; Virgo and Aquarius in conjunction ! Fair maidens and foul weather ! These are aU that the damped expectations of a pic-nicking community, "servile to all the skiey influences" can anticipate. It is but justice, however, to rainy old England to mention that in due order of time all these advertised expeditions and entertainments came off iu sunshine and iclat. "There's the Cathedral!"— (Exeter Cathedral.) Its ponderous towers were converted into transepts nearly six centuries since, and show in their massive and unimpaired solidity how well the Norman masons had done their work in less than fifty years after the landing of William at Pevensey. He, too, in company with his father Duke Robert, William Rufus, and Henry the First, still sits in sculptural dignity on the Western front, and leads the imagination back to Falaise and Caen, — my proposed head-quarters across the channel.

Few, probably, of my general readers, have beheld this remarkable screen in the capital of the West of England, comprising in its thirty-two niches the most heterogenous assembly of notables in unbreathing stone, on the surface of the Earth. Samson, Jephthah, Gideon, Barak, Deborah, Noah, are there. Several apostles, patriarchs, kings, crusaders, bishops and cardinal virtues invite inspec tion; but such as have studied the catalogue may smde at the remark with which, after a long and speechless gaze of astonishment, a carpenter from a distant county, who had made an appointment to meet me in Exeter, broke sdence, — "How cheap HOW TO DINE AT SWINDON STATION. 9 labour must have been among stonemasons in that day, Sir." Steam and Express pace soon brought us to Swindon. Here is played, dady, the pleasant inter lude, entitled " Mastication versus Minute-time."

Parties rush at " the Zoological " to see the lions and hyenas fed. Sharp's the clutch, short the bite ! But commend me to the refreshment-room of a first-rate station — Swindon, to wit, — (when the cry of "Ten minutes " entices a hundred hungry souls from the carriages to the counters), for an idustration of man dibular powers. Let me lend a helping-hand to any man who may wish to accomplish the act of dining on this occasion, without being scalded or choked for lack of dexterity and discrimination. Whdst others are losing precious moments in vain endeavours to swallow soup at 210° of temperature, I advise a rush to the nearest uncut fowl ; it is always alongside of a ham or tongue. Secure the entire leg, — leaving the wing and breast for some gentler and fairer consumer ; cut deep and deftly into the ham, and while cading for a glass of ale, deposit a wedge of veal-pie (all ready ranged for whoever might fancy it, in a plate) upon the slice of ham, and cut for your piece de resistance a due ration of the cold round of beef.

(The pickled walnuts are good there) . When you have disposed of this, you may instantly turn to the soup — which by this time is not too hot to be swallowed. Return to your plate, and finish the wedge of pie and the ale ; but if the bell ring before the pie-ration can be finished, bear it off in your newspaper, and terminate on the platform, or in the carriage ; no one will take EMBARCATION AT DOVER. umbrage at this dernier resort, as there is a general sense of disapprobation and outrage at the scant measure of time allowed for snatching a few morsels whde the train halts. Dinner, after a certain fashion, wdl then be a fait accompli ; and certainly when " a bona fide traveller," as the late Beer Act has it, is compelled to eat and drink at threepence a minute, he may as wed be au fait at the process.

After a few hours' halt, and a dinner in London, I started at half-past eight for Dover, and went on board the packet for Calais, at twenty minutes to twelve. Took up my station, as usual, forward, just under the lantern, and speculated on the " delightful passage " we were assured was to convey us in an hour and a half — " possibly eighty-three minutes " — to the opposite shore. A heavy ground-swell was not the surest guarantee for calm and undisturbed enjoyment of wind dead against us, and the tide running counter to our course like a mill-stream : and many a pale cheek and throbbing temple rested ruefully enough that night on the gunwale abaft. Yet if it be a fact, that, in many instances, sea-sickness is induced and aggravated by the continual rise and fad of the ho rizon, and by the sight of heaving waves, and dipping objects on board — a dark night would seem to be the best season for the voyage, as the shrouding gloom almost entirely conceals such appearances.

I make no pretensions to be what is termed a good sador ; but I have very seldom succumbed to that pitch and toss, lurch and rod, which many a good tad fellow have laid low ; and I incline to think that the brief, but dreadful derangement of stomach, experienced by HINTS UPON SEA-SICKNESS. the majority of landsmen in this passage, might often be averted, certainly very much mitigated, by a series of strong continuing efforts of the imagination addressing itself to themes and thoughts altogether unconnected with shipboard and salt water; and to objects seen only in the mind's eye, whde the eye of the body is kept closed. This active mental operation avails as an effective distraction, under influence of which the attention rests not on the rocking deck and on the see-saw of its live or dead cargo ; just as persons close their eyes when coming from a height in air — in a swing — to prevent giddiness.

Keep the head clear from thickcoming fancies of the dreaded nausea ; and a great point is achieved. The widow says to Pe truchio, " He that is giddy thinks the world turns round;" and I firmly believe that if the fearful passenger would but perch himself, as I did, on a cod of rope, or on a yielding basket or sack, so as not to feel the vibration of the deck, and grasp a tightened or even a slackened rope wherewith he may sway gently with the advancing vessel, and, all this whde, amuse himself by looking out for lighthouses, or strange sads, or a star or two, and certain constedations, aye, and adapt a tune to the beat of the pistons in the engines, he may baffle the dread enemy ; and after an ordeal hardly so long as the Morning service in his parish church on Sunday, find himself brought, without any material discomposure of his internals, into the haven where he fain would be.

Experto crede. Into Calais harbour we glided, some gaily, some gloomdy enough, at two o'clock in the morning of Wednesday, the second day of August. I could "punch" declared contraband! not but ruminate, as we approached the hushed and sleeping town, on the number of leagues I had com passed since nine o'clock in the morning of Tuesday, — three hundred miles, and a halt of four hours, in a day and a half. It was Uke a piece on the chess board — making three moves at once ! an annihilation of space, with which we are now become so familiar as hardly to give it a thought ; but I remember a sailing-packet being knocked about for nine days in the Straits of Calais, "in the good old times !" As I stepped on to the quay, like Yorick, without a passport, I began to take thought for some form of credentials for the prosecution of my march into the interior.

The Consul himself happened, very for tunately for me, to be still at the Custom-House — a very unusual occurrence at that advanced hour of night ; but our boat carried the mad-bag ; and there were letters of some moment, which, I believe, induced him to be a watcher. A few words of courteous greeting, and the regulation-fee of a crown piece, effected all I had to transact in the way of business with this active and highly-intelligent functionary ; and when the chief Douanier had taken away from my opened portmanteau a stray copy of Punch (Credite posteri !), I walked off to Dessin's renowned hotel, where I had for the first time seen a postilion booted a la poste royale, and been lionized into Sterne's room eight-and-thirty years before. I have always thought Dessin's a dud caravanserai; but Calais itself, Uke Pisa, pesa a chi posa (lies heavy on him who lies in it), as I can truly testify, after having waited there nine days "for a wind," in 1816; CALAIS. and bright, sunny, well paved, well lighted, and lively Boulogne succeeds to it with ad the hdarity of a brisk farce after a tragedy.

The clocks had struck four before I turned into bed, and announced seven when I turned out ; but the bright and glorious sun seemed to rebuke the sluggard notion of holding longer pos session of the spiral-springed mattress, and the bedstead with gdt Grecian vases at its head and foot, of Parisian design and manufacture ; and before my host had taken his final snooze, I was perambulating the melancholy yet memorable old town, held, as we all know, by our countrymen for upwards of two hundred years, and justly proud of its ancient historic recodections ; mindful of which I sauntered down to the Hotel de Guise, — the occasional domicde of Henry the Eighth, whose daughter Mary used to say the name of Calais would be found, at her death, graven on her broken heart. And here and there, at the corners of picturesque narrow streets, I recognised the subjects of some of Prout's best pictures.

How ever, I had been booked for a place in the coupe of the light coach to Boulogne, and the time for starting was arrived. Within a few minutes I was traveUing over a beautiful Macadamised road, and enjoying an opportunity of observing not only every indication of an abundant harvest, but manifest proofs, also, of most beneficial improvement in the French husbandry. As was to be expected, the close proximity of an encamped army of 25,000 men had induced the farmers to sow large breadths of beans, oats, and clover. The reapers, too, were cutting the wheat much closer down to the ground than heretofore THE ENCAMPMENT. (using cradle sithes), for the purpose of supplying abundance of long straw to the cavalry regiments and artidery horses distributed in all the surrounding villages ; infantry only being on the field, in conse quence of the unfitness of the heights of Honvault, Wimereux, and Ambleteuse for an encampment of horses, — animals requiring abundant supply of water, and occasional green food, and ample ventdation and height and breadth in their night quarters.

The farm-buildings and labourers' cottages are strikingly altered for the better ; and the hoe had done its work wed, some months previously, in ex tirpating the weeds among the white crops. There were several ploughs at work aUeady on the stubbles. The farmers must derive material benefit from the vast accumulation of manure in the districts of Artois and Picardy occupied by the cavalry; and, probably, give fresh straw in exchange for it. I noticed many a valuable heap on the close vicinity of newly upturned land. The number of equipages mditaires, as they are termed, artillery-wagons, tumbrils, breaks, and commissariat carriages (the counterpart of Broadwood's pianoforte conveyances) which* we met in the road, imparted a vivid idea of all the responsibilities, needs and requirements, ex penditure and circumstances of mditary occupation ; and every third individual going or coming along the highway was a soldier.

At about a mile's distance from Boulogne we were overtaken by a General of division with his aides-de-camp, riding out in ex pectation of fading in with the 22nd regiment of the line, hourly expected from Paris, where they had for BOULOGNE. a considerable period been doing garrison duty in the Faubourg Poissoniere, and which they had just left for the camp at Wimereux. My first sight of this camp, — the object, as it well might be, of such stirring interest — was obtained from the summit of the abrupt hdl leading down into Wimide ; and a remarkably pretty picture then lay before me : — the highway, the vdlage, and its church, especiaUy, composing aU that could be desired in foreground and middle distance ; and the white tents alongside of the thatched " wat tle and dab" cottages (caUed by the soldiers "baraques"), constituting, in the back-ground, an incident of no ordinary character.

Blending with the reflections awakened at this moment, uprose the reminiscences of the three eventful periods of 1689, 1804, and 1840 ; — the disembarkation of James the Second, close to the spot where the present camp of Amble teuse is situate, — the encampment of the grand army of 200,000 men for the invasion of England, in the day of pride of Napoleon the First,— and the futde and nearly fatal landing, at this very point, of his nephew, the present Emperor, when, fourteen years since, less cautious than enterprising, more sanguine than wise, he rushed upon captivity where he had expected to mount a throne. These topics are "somewhat musty" now-a-days — but the recur rence of them, at such a time and place, cannot but lend a charm to travel ; and, as one who has many a time keenly enjoyed it, I would advise the tourist, at home or abroad, to lay in an ample store of such recodections ; they wdl serve him in good stead when common-place enjoyment fails; — and that, be it said, is no trifling consideration.

LE LIMONADIER. At length, preceded by their spirit-stirring drums and ear-piercing fifes, onward came the 22nd regi ment. They were leaving Boulogne for Wimereux, — the site of the second of the three camps. Foremost in the van marched a grotesquely-attired Umonadier ; one of those oddities, well known, no doubt, to aU my readers who have crossed the Straits of Dover, as the venders of eau-sucree, punch, lemonade, and sweet refrigerants, flowing from som' or five taps in serted in a velvet-covered cyUnder, strapped to the shoulders, and shaped Uke a long compressed metal mdk-pail. Attached to a broad belt, in front of a gay waistcoat, are half a dozen metal cups, — recourse to which is suggested by the incessant ringing of a little shriU bell, such as our muffin-boys use, and by the cry, "Qui veut bien boire et se rafraichir?"