convent the door and doorway, leading into the building inhabited by Les Dames de la Retraite.

Next day, Tuesday, was market day, and we went to the market place with a friend who lives in Quimperlé. The market place is in the upper town, but peasants in wonderfully quaint costumes were to be seen about everywhere. The upper town seems pleasant and quiet, with convents and houses surrounded by delightful gardens with old grey

walls, but the way there is very steep. As we passed the church of St. Michel, on our way to the market, we stopped to look at the porch, which is remarkable. Opposite to this is a very curious old carved wooden house of the fifteenth century. But it was difficult to look at anything in the midst of the talking, laughing, picturesque crowd of market people. It was not only the costumes that were different to Morbihan, for here long hair and bragoubras were

frequent; but the people seemed so much wilder, and more excitable and noisy.

The pig-market was the most popular resort. The pigs are brought to market in carts, and as they are wanted are hauled out by their tails, struggling and screaming furiously. One old woman had a couple of pigs in leash, and she was exhorting them in Breton to keep the peace, for they were squealing loudly. A little way off we saw an old woman selling a cow; several long-haired, fiercelooking, very dirty men on their knees were inspecting the beast and feeling its different points. The old woman, in a large square plaited collar, and a cap with long lappets, stood erect, expatiating on the good qualities of the animal. At last one man, who had all this time been trying to milk it, got up, shook his head, and wiped his fingers on the cow's tail. At this the others dispersed, and the old woman shrugged her shoulders and led her cow away in a puffet.

Beyond this group we came to a row of carts filled with immense round baskets of live cocks and hens, their combs making a blaze of colour. Amid the noise and squalor and dirt, it was refreshing to come upon a dear little child in its mother's arms, with a superb skull-cap of crimson and blue ribbon embroidered with gold; and in the general market there was a great display on some of the stalls of bright-coloured gauze ribbons with broad gold and silver stripes. These, our friend said, were worn on the skull-cap underneath the net or muslin cap on fête days; and afterwards when we got farther west we saw an abundant use made of these ribbons, both as headgear and as sashes. There were stalls, too, full of black ribbon velvet of all widths, and a curious kind of binding or tape, a most

delightful combination of blue, green, and yellow. People seemed to be buying in all directions, but some of the men were so repulsively dirty that we shrank from being jostled by or against them.

All at once we came upon a gaping staring crowd surrounding a donkey-cart. In this was a porcupine in a cage. Four dressed-up monkeys were perched about the cart, and following it was a huge bear led by a chain, with a long pole in his paws. The owner, a man in a blue blouse, always made the bear bow to the audience before he began his uncouth gambols with the pole. These animals were making a progress through Brittany; for, after this, we constantly fell in with them at various towns.

The environs of Quimperlé are enchanting both for beauty and variety; excellent trout fishing is to be had; salmon, too, has been caught in the river Elle. Either for angler or artist, I cannot conceive more exquisite enjoyment than in long summer evenings or early mornings spent in wandering up and down the banks of the lovely rivers, passing by picturesque bridges and old mills on the way to the wild rocky passes higher up the valley.

One day our friend drove us to a pass called La Roche du Diable. The road going there was very lovely, and reminded us much of Devonshire. About half a mile or so before we reached the rocks we had to leave the carriage, as the road was very steep. We stopped at a cottage by the roadside, and got a little girl to guide us; and after a fatiguing climb-for the sun's heat was, as usual, intense -we reached the top of the rocks, our little guide going before and springing from one stone to another like a goat. The view on all sides is lovely. Masses of rocks are

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piled round in every direction, pine-trees springing up among them wherever they can get a footing. In front the rock goes down a precipitous depth to the river bed, and rises on the other side in rugged masses of grey precipice. Far below, between most fantastic piled-up crags, rushes the clear brown stream, breaking every now and then into foam, when the dark red and brown rocks force it to circle round them on its way down the valley. At one point a circle of very lofty rocks seems to close the water in, and here it looks like a dark lake shut in for ever; but higher up the valley its shining thread is again visible. Some way below us a little oak-tree had niched itself among the lichencovered boulders, and stood as if perched in air. Still higher up the valley is a country house, which must command an exquisite view of the whole scene. Among this rocky, wooded country there is excellent hunting in the winter both of wolves and wild boars. One could spend days in exploring these rocks, although the descent into the valley in some parts looks impossible, it is so rugged and precipitous.

On our way back to the carriage we stopped at a lowroofed cottage and asked for milk; but, though the friend who went with us spoke in Breton, she only understood the Tréguier dialect, and it was some time before the clumsy sad-faced mistress could understand what we wanted, and then she bargained for the price of the milk before she would give it. The cottage was a most primitive abode, the earthen floor very uneven, with large stones imbedded in it. Facing the door and the one window were boxbedsteads, the woodwork perforated in the form of stars, and these filled with silvered and red paper. Below each bed

stead stood a carved oak chest, and on one side was ar enormous armoire which seemed as if it might have contained the wardrobe of the whole family. Over our heads were skins of lard and piles of pancakes, or gauffres. There was no sign of poverty, but squalor reigned paramount, and this was increased by the want of light; for, to avoid the tax on windows, the poorer class of Bretons usually admit light by the door: there is rarely more than one window, and this is seldom cleaned.

We went into the church of this village-a primitive little place. On our way home, just before we reached Quimperlé, we turned off on the right, and followed the course of the river some distance on the opposite banks. It is very beautiful here; on one side enormous masses of rock overhang the road, and on the other is the black swiftly-flowing river, with king-fern growing abundantly on the banks.

To the north of Quimperlé, along the lovely banks of the Elle, is the chapel of Rosgrand. There is here a good Renaissance rood-screen.

To the south the scenery is very beautiful; here is the huge forest of Carnoët, where the Dukes of Brittany once had a castle. The Bluebeard, Comorre, is said to have dwelt here, and from this castle St. Tryphena is supposed to have fled. Only a few bits of ruined wall now remain. At the edge of the forest, in a grove of lofty trees, is the old church of Lothéa, said to have been built by the Knights Templars. Mass is said in this church only once a year, on the occasion of the Pardon of Toulfouën, which takes place on Whitsun Monday. This is said to be a most picturesque scene, and is called "the Pardon of the Birds," from the number of birds sold there.