^^RENCII CHATEAU 
 
 I 
 
 ♦» * 
 
 MIRIAM IRENE KIMBALL 
 
 mm^ 
 
Class 
 Book 
 
 Copyright 1^?. 
 
 JC33 
 
 ,7 
 
 COPWIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
APPROACH TO THE CHAteAU DE SOISY 
 
AT A 
 
 FRENCH CHATEAU 
 
 BY 
 MIRIAM IRENE KIMBALL 
 
 ILLUSTRATED 
 
 PRINTED FOR 
 
 PRIVATE DISTRIBUTION 
 
1\0f 
 
 ^6 
 
 COPTRIGHT, 1915 
 BT 
 
 MIRIAM IRENE KIMBALL 
 
 JUL 23 1915 
 ©CI,A4n6S38 
 
DEDICATED 
 
 TO 
 
 THE CHATEAU PEOPLE. AND MY TRAVELING COMPANIONS 
 OF THE SUMMER OF 1913. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. The Arrival 5 
 
 II. In the Home 16 
 
 III. The Chateau's History 35 
 
 IV. At the Lavoir 42 
 
 V. Ernest and His Family 48 
 
 VI. Favorite Walks 52 
 
 VII. Market Day at Corbeil 63 
 
 yill. Barnum's Great Cinema 69 
 
 IX. Day Dreams 77 
 
 X. The Departure 82 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 FACING 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Approach to the Chateau de Soisy. . . Frontispiece y 
 
 The Broad Open Lawn, Bordered by Grand Old 
 
 Trees , 6*^ 
 
 The Tennis Ground 8 ^ 
 
 Along Beautiful Shady Ways lOv^ 
 
 The Kiosque 14 • 
 
 The Garden Gate 16 ^ 
 
 A Bit of the Garden 18"^ . 
 
 The Main Walk of the Garden 20 
 
 A Delightful Family Circle 22 «^ 
 
 Outdoor Life 24 -^ 
 
 Playful Pranks 26 > 
 
 Tout le Monde Had Tea in the Park 28 1 
 
 Scotland, England, France, Switzerland and 
 
 America 30 
 
 Charming Juliette and Her Romeo 32 '^ 
 
 The Long Perron 34 "^ 
 
 Rene and Eric 36 v 
 
 Inner Facade of the Chateau 38 '. 
 
 Notre Dame de Soisy-sous-Etiolles 40 • 
 
 The Lavoir 42 v/ 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 FACING 
 PAGE 
 
 On the Banks op the Seine 44 • 
 
 About His Accustomed Duties 48 ■ 
 
 Taken Into the Queer-looking Box 50 "^ 
 
 To the River Seine 52 ^ 
 
 Stacks of Wheat by the Roadside 54 - 
 
 Carrefour du Chene 56 
 
 Breaking Up Stone 58 » 
 
 A Quaint and Time-worn Street 60 ^ 
 
 The Station of Evry-Petit-Bourg 62- 
 
 Everything Was There for Sale 64 
 
 The Old Church of St. Germain 66 • 
 
 A Fine Old Gateway of the Twelfth Century 68 ^ 
 
 One Representation Only 70 
 
 The Delightful Old Chateau 76 
 
 A Corner of the Grand Salon 78 ' 
 
 The One-time Infant Now an Aged Man 80 
 
 For a Good Time and a Holiday 82 
 
 Kindly Wished Us au Revoir 84 
 
 Quite at Home 86 < 
 
ATA FRENCH CHATEAU 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 The Arrival 
 
 It was a beautiful afternoon on the twenty- 
 eighth of July that Billie and I arrived at 
 the Chateau de Soisy. We had come by train 
 from Paris to the little station of Evry-Petit- 
 Bourg, and had then take a bus (of the 
 springless kind) for Soisy-sous-EtioUes, in a 
 short time arriving at the great iron gate of 
 the Chateau. 
 
 We had no sooner come to the full stop 
 than we noticed the warning at the entrance, 
 PRENEZ garde AUX CHIENS, which we, at first, 
 thought looked not hospitable, the more so, 
 inasmuch as it was emphasized by a succession 
 of discordant vocal notes from the wide throat 
 
 5 
 
6 At a French Chateau 
 
 of the Danish Laura. However, we soon 
 found we had nothing to fear; for, im- 
 mediately we had been put down, the gardener 
 and gatekeeper, whose lodge is at the left just 
 inside the porte, smilingly swung open the 
 gate, causing a bell attached to it to ring. The 
 sound brought the housekeeper, Madame R., 
 on the run, out to meet us. Then Madame at 
 once told us such a lot of nice things (her looks 
 indicated that; I did not catch the words), in 
 a perfect rivulet of such fluent, babbling, gush- 
 ing) gurgling, rippling articulations as no 
 other than the French tongue can produce, — 
 at the same time conducting us across the 
 courtyard towards the Chateau. 
 
 Just inside the main entrance stood our 
 sweet arid charming Madame Williamson- 
 de-Visme, with her eldest son, a little lad of 
 five years, to bid us welcome. Le petit 
 garcon, with true French hospitality, smil- 
 ingly held up his little hand to shake, saying, 
 as he did so, '^ Soyez la bienvenue/' By 
 this time we had come to feel that it was not 
 necessary to beware even of the dog, for, as 
 soon as she had become convinced that we 
 were friends and not foes, Laura had peace- 
 
At a French Chateau 7 
 
 ably followed us from the gate to the steps, 
 evidently having adopted us into the family 
 and feeling bound thenceforth to protect us. 
 Laura, although a most valuable watch dog, 
 never makes the mistake of showing any 
 hostility towards those who really belong at 
 the Chateau. 
 
 We were immediately shown to our rooms, 
 the way leading up two flights of winding 
 stairs, through narrow halls with stone floors, 
 a step upward, a few steps forward, then a 
 step downward, a turn to the left, then to the 
 right, etc. until we had literally wound our 
 way to our chambres a coucher. 
 
 At first I scarcely noticed my room, or 
 whether I had bed, mirror, or washbowl; for 
 the open casement disclosed so charming a 
 view, and the winds brought such sweet sound 
 and breath from the neighborly trees, that for 
 the moment my attention was engrossed. As 
 soon as I had entered the door, I could see 
 the broad open lawn, bordered by grand old 
 trees, stretching away up a slight rise towards 
 what I concluded must be some sort of play- 
 ground, for in that direction it was quite evi- 
 dent some young men were enjoying a game. 
 
8 ^t a French Chateau 
 
 (My guess, that it was tennis, afterward 
 proved to be correct). At the left, peeping 
 from beneath a clump of trees, showed an 
 ancient fountain basin, now out of use. The 
 few steps necessary to bring me to my window 
 disclosed in the foreground near the inner 
 fagade of the Chateau two large beds of 
 begonias, then at their best, which gave color 
 to the scene. But better than the lawn, the 
 trees, the flowers, and the breath of perfume, 
 better than the rustling of leaves and the song 
 of birds, was the sight of a bevy of lovely 
 girls, an animated group, sitting in the shade 
 of a fine old tree, gleefully and enthusias- 
 tically conversing in the French tongue, 
 though perhaps in some cases with a rather 
 American manner. 
 
 A second look around my room revealed 
 the fact that I had everything needful for my 
 comfort. I felt at home at once; and, after 
 unpacking mes effets and arranging them in 
 convenient order, I sought out Billie (he had 
 not made quite so many turnings as I had), 
 for I wanted him to explore with me the 
 mysteries of this new delight. He w^as not so 
 enthusiastic as I, scarcely hopeful, I thought. 
 
!At a French Chateau 9 
 
 " Auntie," said he, " I don't believe I shall 
 want to stay here more than a day or two. I 
 think I shall go on to London, do the place in 
 three or four days, and then see if I can't get 
 an earlier sailing for America.'' 
 
 "Why?" I questioned. 
 
 " Well, I don't feel at home here," he re- 
 plied, as though that he do so were the all im- 
 portant matter to be considered. " I don't like 
 my room. It's awfully small, has no bath, 
 no electric light — not even gas. Besides, I 
 can't speak a word of French, and they won't 
 let you talk anything else here. How am I 
 ever going to make them know what I want? 
 How am I going to get enough to eat? That's 
 what I'd like to know." 
 
 "There, there!" I answered. "Don't 
 worry. I'll help you at meals, and you'll know 
 how to speak some French for yourself before 
 many days. And think of it, Billie! We're 
 in an old, old Chateau built in 1650, and " — 
 
 " What do I care about that? " he growled. 
 
 Paying no heed to the interruption, I went 
 on. " It isn't a hotel. It isn't a boarding- 
 house even. It's just a lovely old French 
 home; and the less it is like anything that I 
 
lo At a French Chateau 
 
 have ever seen, the better I shall like it. 
 Electric lights! not for me! I hope we shall 
 use the candles or those funny old oil lamps 
 we have in our rooms. Why, Fm just wild 
 with delight over it all, even before IVe seen 
 anything scarcely." 
 
 The only response I received was a deep- 
 toned, '^ Curses!" 
 
 Nevertheless, Billie condescended to take a 
 walk with me in the Chateau park, a small 
 portion of which I had seen from my window. 
 And such a walk as it was, — under the grand- 
 est of old trees, along beautiful shady ways, by 
 winding by-paths bordered with box hedges, 
 leading up to little secluded bowers, again 
 to descend into the main path. Then there 
 was everywhere the glossiest of ivy, climbing 
 tree trunks and stone walls, mantling the 
 ground; water, melodiously trickling through 
 cement troughs to seek some pool ; high stone 
 walls, hard-looking stone benches, and mys- 
 terious-looking little stone houses, close to the 
 formidable stone walls. What were all these 
 tiny stone buildings, and to what would they 
 lead? To each and every one I said mentally, 
 ** ril see you again." 
 

 
At a French Chateau ii 
 
 We had just come to an open space looking 
 out on the tennis ground when we met Mon- 
 sieur Williamson-de-Visme, with cordiality 
 written all over his face. After greeting us 
 kindly, he explained some of the customs of 
 the house. We were to have our petit dejeuner 
 (little breakfast) about eight o'clock; our 
 dejeuner (or real breakfast) at twelve; tea at 
 four; and diner (dinner) at seven. It was at 
 that moment time for afternoon tea, and we 
 went into the large salle a manger for our first 
 meal at the Chateau. It consisted of jelly 
 sandwiches and tea, the sandwiches set on the 
 table in large baskets, one at each end of the 
 table. This I found to be the customary after- 
 noon tea. 
 
 Then I went on a long walk into the coun- 
 try with the housekeeper and some of the 
 girls, to whom I had been introduced at tea. 
 (Billie did not care to go; he could walk in 
 the country most anywhere.) I think I was 
 not over and above entertaining that after- 
 noon; but as Madame R. never lacks for 
 words, the conversation did not lag. How- 
 ever, I did the best I could with my limited 
 vocabulary and laughed with the rest. In the 
 
ii2 !At a French Chateau 
 
 laugh French and Anglo Saxon meet on com- 
 mon ground, for the laugh is the same in all 
 languages. Everybody understands that 
 either you are pleased or else you wish people 
 to think that you are pleased. Not so with 
 language. I confess to having had consider- 
 able sympathy with Billie one day at dinner, 
 when, throwing to the winds all restraint, he 
 blurted out to the pretty demoiselle at his side, 
 " ril take your word for it, you probably know 
 what you are talking about; but really I 
 don't grasp you." On our return we met some 
 of the young men just coming back from a 
 swim in the Seine, Billie among them. He 
 was, to all appearance, getting interested. 
 
 The 6 : 30 bell had just rung and we went 
 in to dress for dinner. When the dinner bell 
 sounded at 7 : 00, we went to the big salon, 
 where we were introduced to those of the 
 family whom we had not already met. Every- 
 body was cordial. As soon as all had assem- 
 bled, Madame W. arose and led the way to 
 the salle a manger. Fourteen persons sat down 
 at the long table, most of them young men 
 and women of the prep school and college age, 
 Monsieur and Madame W. occupying the 
 
At a French Chateau 13 
 
 places at the center of the long sides. There 
 were two serving maids. One passed the food 
 first to Madame W. and then along to the 
 right until she had served half way around 
 the table. The other served Monsieur W. and 
 then to his right until she came around to 
 where Madame sat. The first course was 
 soup; the second, most delicious creamed 
 stringed beans; the third, some sort of roast; 
 and the fourth, cake and jam, the cake cut in 
 narrow strips and piled up on the plates in the 
 manner of a cob house. Everything except the 
 soup was served twice, the maids always carry- 
 ing the dishes back to the kitchen to be kept 
 hot for the second serving and returning only 
 on the stroke of the hostess's bell. 
 
 All who could took a lively part in the con- 
 versation. I observed then, as I observed 
 afterward, that the chief business of the meal 
 seemed to be of a social nature, the eating 
 secondary. No one expressed any pleasure or 
 any displeasure in what was passed him. In- 
 deed, I might have felt that the eating meant 
 nothing to them were it not for the fact that 
 most of them helped themselves twice of each 
 course offered, and rather bounteously, if 
 
ti4 !At a French Chateau 
 
 mechanically, never, however, letting helping 
 or eating interfere with the flow of conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 There were two decanters of wine on the 
 table, and six or eight water bottles distrib- 
 uted at equal intervals. For the latter of 
 these I was truly thankful, as it is not always 
 easy to get water to drink while traveling in 
 Europe; and one is conspicuous rather for not 
 drinking wine than for drinking it. But 
 whether you drank it or not was apparently 
 not observed at the Chateau. Indeed, Madame 
 W. told me afterward that neither Monsieur 
 W. nor herself care for wine, and that much 
 less wine is drunk in France in families of 
 the better class than formerly. 
 
 I went to my room early that night with the 
 thought that we had been suflSciently wel- 
 comed. More than that we had passed the 
 initiation and now belonged. Billie was to 
 study French conversation and I to experi- 
 ence real French home life of the better sort, 
 and more or less intimately study country life 
 and customs away from " gay Paris." 
 
 I felt positive that we had come to the right 
 place and that both Billie and I should there 
 
o 
 
 en 
 
 ^^f)^^ 
 
 •fc;*^|f^ -x.^. 
 
 i**:*-* 
 
 »# 
 
I 
 
!At a French Chateau 15 
 
 find content and happiness. There was har- 
 mony in the atmosphere, a harmony that could 
 be plainly felt. '^ It is the atmosphere of love, 
 if I mistake not," thought I ; " and what is that 
 but the atmosphere of God, for ^ God is 
 Love.' " This, my first impression, was not a 
 false one, for time brought the proof of its 
 truth. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 In the Home 
 
 The petit dejeuner at the Chateau consists 
 of bread and butter, confiture (jam), and 
 chocolate or coffee, — though I believe the 
 coffee used in Europe is commonly a kind of 
 chicory roasted, but often, especially in 
 France, very palatable. The Scotch lad in our 
 midst, I am sure, sighed for his porridge. As 
 for myself, a glass of ice-v^ater, a cup of real 
 coffee with cream, and a doughnut or tv^o 
 would have suited all right; but then, — one 
 does not expect an American breakfast in 
 France, and, in truth, one would not v^ish it. 
 It is better to take '' the little breakfast " for 
 what it is, just an earnest of that to come. 
 Amends will be made at the dejeuner. 
 
 I made the tour of the park with Madame 
 W., just after breakfast, my first morning at 
 
 16 
 

 V 
 
 V 
 
 * 
 
 
 
 r ^ 
 
 
 
 ^^I^^^^^^^^^^^^^H 
 
 • 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 
 THE GARDEN GATE. 
 
At a French Chateau 17 
 
 the Chateau. We took the turn to the left, 
 which leads past the aviary, now the home of 
 two lone pheasants; the lavoir, where the 
 family washings are done; and the kiosque, a 
 picturesque little round summer house with 
 thatched roof, — diverging a bit now and then 
 to follow a winding path or to rest for a little 
 on one of the old stone seats. Passing the 
 tennis grounds and la balangoire du cedre 
 (cedar swing) , with its fair occupant, we came 
 around to the garden gate, almost having made 
 the circuit back to the Chateau. The faith- 
 ful Laura was there, either to guard the gate 
 or to wait for the coming of Ernest, the 
 gardener, of whom she is a constant com- 
 panion. 
 
 We stepped inside the garden, a large and 
 flourishing one, teeming with all sorts of fruits 
 and vegetables. The main walk, which passes 
 through the center of the garden its entire 
 length, is cut by two ancient fountain basins, 
 and bordered on both sides by apple trees, 
 then laden with half-grown fruit. None of 
 these trees were more than a foot and a half 
 high, for, instead of being allowed to shoot 
 up into the air, they had been trained to run 
 
1 8 At a French Chateau 
 
 along trellises, thus forming a sort of hedge 
 as a border to the path. " Trees of this kind 
 bear much more fruit," said Madame W., 
 " when thus trained." 
 
 '^ Certainly there is no difficulty in gather- 
 ing it," I answered; " ladders are unnecessary 
 and fruit is not injured by being shaken from 
 the tree." 
 
 After the garden, we called at the drying 
 house and then for some time we watched the 
 nine fat ducks as they waddled or swam about, 
 with their incessant quoiF quoi? good French 
 as far as it goes, though comprising a vocab- 
 ulary rather limited in scope. 
 
 As we emerged into the court at the front 
 of the Chateau, we met Billie. '^ I wish, 
 ma chere Tante/' said he, '^ that you would 
 telegraph to London for my trunk, and have it 
 hurried right along. I think I'll stay awhile, 
 and I want my tennis shoes and racquet." 
 Billie was beginning to feel at home. He was 
 also beginning to speak French. 
 
 " Very well, Billie," I responded, ^' we may 
 as well go around to Monsieur W.'s office at 
 once and attend to it," this with considerable 
 alacrity on my part, for I was relieved to 
 
At a French Chateau 19 
 
 know that I shouldn't have to waste any more 
 of my hitherto non-persuasive powers on 
 Billie, to get him to see things as I saw them. 
 
 It was at that time a half hour before de- 
 jeuner, and a maid emerged from the dining- 
 room and rang a bell suspended on the house 
 just outside the door. 
 
 '' Quite an idea, having that on the outside 
 of the house; you can hear it all over the 
 park," remarked Billie, evidently no longer 
 sighing for modern hotel conveniences. 
 
 ''Yes, isn't it?" I answered, "but that 
 means that we must get ready for dejeuner/' 
 
 " It sure does ; and a welcome sound it is. 
 I'm as hungry as a bear. Auntie, in spite of 
 the fact that I have been eating crackers and 
 cheese nearly all the forenoon. But say, 
 Auntie! You can get dandy little cream 
 cheeses just across from the gate, in that funny 
 little store where they sell everything most." 
 
 Twenty minutes later we were both in the 
 salon waiting the second ringing of the bell, 
 and Madame W.'s summons to the salle a 
 manger as at dinner the night before. (These 
 formalities are dispensed with at the petit 
 dejeuner and afternoon tea, when the Chateau 
 
20 At a French Chateau 
 
 people may straggle in at any time during the 
 hour.) 
 
 The dejeuner we found to be almost as 
 hearty a meal as the diner. Soup is not served, 
 but almost always hot meats, a vegetable, and 
 either fruit or pudding as a dessert. Cold 
 meat is quite as apt to be served at diner as at 
 dejeuner. 
 
 When the Monsieur and Madame were not 
 too much occupied with their various duties, 
 they frequently chatted with me; at which 
 times I gleaned many interesting facts about 
 French home life, as well as concerning the 
 history of the Chateau. I learn that French 
 women make good wives. Certainly if 
 Madame is a fair type of the French woman, 
 this is undoubtedly so. In the managing of 
 her home she is ideal. Everything is well 
 ordered, but simply. There seems to be plenty 
 of time for everything. To be sure, the ser- 
 vants, as a rule, are kept busy but apparently 
 never hurried. The strenuous life is unknown 
 at the Chateau; but rather is the rule laid 
 down by the young husband here observed. 
 " Lora," said he, ^' we'll do the housework, 
 but we won't let the housework do us." 
 
THE MAIN WALK OF THE GARDEN. 
 
At a French Chateau 21 
 
 '^ But why should French girls make ex- 
 ceptionally good wives?" I inquired of 
 Madame. 
 
 " Because," she answered, ^' they are early 
 taught that they are to be homemakers, and 
 are reared with that idea constantly in mind. 
 They are taught also that woman should wait 
 upon man, and in every way be regardful of 
 his needs and desires." 
 
 " To an American mind it would seem that 
 such a training has both its advantages and its 
 disadvantages," I remarked. 
 
 " Yes," was the response, " it has, though I 
 believe the advantages far outweigh the dis- 
 advantages. I know all about both from my 
 own experience. As a young girl, I was never 
 allowed to forget that it was my duty to make 
 myself useful to my brothers as well as to my 
 father. That was the old conservative idea," 
 she went on, '^ though in these later days it is 
 being somewhat modified among the better 
 class ; and there, at least, woman's position is 
 less onerous than formerly." 
 
 ^^ And yet, I have heard that the French 
 woman rules the home; is it not so? " I ques- 
 tioned. 
 
22 At a French Chateau 
 
 " To a considerable extent, yes," she replied. 
 "She is held there in the greatest respect; 
 but the good housewife does not consider any 
 service she may pay her lord as burdensome, 
 rather it is her pleasure. In fact," she con- 
 tinued, ^' the family ties are very strong among 
 the French ; and all the members of the family 
 are very loyal to each other. Children have 
 great respect for their elders. Grandpere and 
 Grandmere are objects of the greatest rever- 
 ence." 
 
 " French children," says Monsieur W. " are 
 not spoiled. They are expected to be obedient, 
 and as a rule to entertain themselves." 
 
 It is quite noticeable that French children 
 are not loaded dow^n with toys, as are so many 
 American children. Spending money just for 
 the sake of spending money and having some- 
 thing to do is unknown in their little world. 
 
 ^' Too many ready-made toys are not good 
 for the little ones," Monsieur W. remarked 
 one day. " Having to find their own material, 
 makes them self-reliant and stimulates origi- 
 nality and invention." 
 
 His two little sons, Rene and Eric, are good 
 illustrations of the successful working out of 
 
At a French Chateau 23 
 
 his method. Having been fed at their little 
 table (they never eat with the older people), 
 they will play contentedly about the place for 
 hours at a time, with perhaps a box cover, a 
 few stones and a stick, making all sorts of 
 combinations to express different ideas, and 
 apparently enjoying to the utmost their little 
 conceits. I was called one day by Rene to 
 help him drive his beetle horse into a paste- 
 board-box-cover barn, at a time when the horse 
 was proving too spirited for his little master 
 to manage. Might not American parents here 
 gain a useful hint? 
 
 As soon as you enter the Chateau gate, you 
 may feel yourself a member of this delightful 
 family circle. In a word, you have entered 
 a School Home, with all that phrase implies, 
 and are entitled to the freedom and privileges 
 of home. A School Home, it is indeed, over 
 which Monsieur W. and his good femme, of 
 the much respected family de Visme, preside. 
 It is the home atmosphere that makes it a 
 home, and the fact that you are being taught 
 the French language and the French life every 
 minute of your stay that makes it a School 
 Home. 
 
24 At a French Chateau 
 
 There are no definite study rooms, no defin- 
 ite recitation rooms. You may seek out your 
 own little spot to do your conning, be it the 
 lazily-swinging hammock, a strong limb of 
 the old cedar, the mud hut in close covert 
 under the garden wall, or a shady spot in the 
 park where you may lie, stretched at full 
 length on your steamer rug, as secure from 
 all intrusion as high stone walls can make 
 you, and where only " day's garish eye" can 
 penetrate. The life at the Chateau is in a 
 large sense an outdoor life. Almost any time 
 of a summer forenoon, one may see about the 
 park a student and a teacher here, a student 
 and a teacher there, enjoying, yes, enjoy- 
 ing a lesson, wherever fancy may prompt. 
 Madame W. is, perhaps, teaching Billie the 
 French vowels; and Mademoiselle J., the 
 Scotch lad the conjugations. The frequent 
 peals of laughter evidence the fact that both 
 teacher and student are having a good time. 
 Why not? 
 
 I commented to Monsieur W. on the gen- 
 eral delectable atmosphere and asked, " What 
 are your ideals for the home that are so happy 
 
OUTDOOR LIFE. 
 
At a French Chateau 25 
 
 in their results? There is, apparently, no urg- 
 ing, no driving, no drudgery." 
 
 Monsieur smiled as he answered, " With us 
 duty i's pleasure." 
 
 " It seems to be so with students as well 
 as with instructors," I remarked. 
 
 "Yes," he added; "and why should it be 
 irksome to anyone? God's work is already 
 done, and it is a perfect work. All we have 
 to do is to unfold and make manifest this per- 
 fect idea in ourselves and in others, happily, 
 lovingly, freely, God working with us to that 
 end." 
 
 " He is exemplifying the Scripture, * My 
 yoke is easy, and my burden light,' " I thought, 
 as he left me. " Truly, God has created man 
 in His own image and likeness; the work is 
 done. But no one of us is manifesting that 
 likeness in its perfection; yet, to that extent 
 that we have that mind in us that was also in 
 Christ Jesus can we unfold in our conscious- 
 ness the ideal." 
 
 I could have no reasonable doubt about that. 
 And Monsieur was not only working out his 
 own problem according to this rule, but was 
 giving the helping hand to all his household. 
 
26 At a French Chateau 
 
 I had often noticed that Monsieur never 
 seemed to question the desire nor the ability 
 of his pupils to learn; and I have no doubt 
 that his faith in them inspired a faith in them- 
 selves. 
 
 And yet this man who loves his Bible and 
 makes it the guide of his life, has no objection 
 to checkers, chess, or tennis on Sundays, — 
 games that are not wrong in themselves and 
 therefore may be allowed. Such doctrine 
 would have scandalized our Puritan fathers. 
 I doubt, however, if anyone at the Chateau 
 would have the face to practice any unkind- 
 ness, indulge in petty gossip, or use coarse or 
 profane language. Apparently, though, there 
 is perfect freedom of action. Boys and girls 
 mingle freely, indulging ofttimes in playful 
 pranks, but with perfect propriety. It seems 
 that life is sweet and wholesome at the 
 Chateau perforce. 
 
 Many visitors come to the Chateau. The 
 most frequent ones during my stay were two 
 lads, Pierre and Robert L., perfect types of 
 the well-bred French boys, manly and courte- 
 ous. The L. family, although residing in 
 Paris, regularly spend a portion of the sum- 
 
PLAYFUL PRANKS. 
 
At a French Chateau 27 
 
 mer in Soisy-sous-Etiolles, the father fishing 
 in the Seine the greater part of the time for 
 the pure love of the sport, and the others of 
 the family enjoying the country life after the 
 manner of summer pleasure seekers in walk- 
 ing on country roads, calling, etc. The lads 
 certainly contribute no small part to the in- 
 struction of the young people. They mani- 
 festly find great delight in taking such fellows 
 as Billie and the Chicago lad in tow and guid- 
 ing them through the mazes of the tongue in 
 which they themselves are so glib. They play 
 and frolic freely with the boys, and whether 
 at tennis or in a rough-and-tumble wrestling 
 match the French tongue is always voluble, 
 and constant repetition of the same sound soon 
 leaves its impress. 
 
 Often the sister drops in, a sweet and charm- 
 ing demoiselle, very entertaining even if one 
 doesn't comprehend all she says. She is re- 
 markably pretty, with merry laughing eyes, 
 and talks with her hands in such an animated 
 manner that you quite understand her — at 
 least you don't misunderstand her — even if 
 you can't catch what her tongue is saying. 
 Anyway you catch the spirit, and after all 
 
28 At a French Chateau 
 
 that is more important than mere words ; and 
 you feel that she and you are good friends, 
 as you walk about the park with her arm in 
 arm, laughing and chatting. 
 
 One afternoon Maman and Grandpere came 
 with the young people. Then tout le monde 
 had tea in the park just back of the Chateau; 
 and a right merry time it was, — Grandpere 
 Maman, Demoiselle, and our boys talking all 
 at once, or, in such quick response to each 
 other, that it seemed that way. - Added the 
 fluency of Madame R. and the rest, the air 
 was literally filled with words in the most 
 rollicking effusion. The tea over, Demoiselle 
 sang for a bit to us in the salon, and then they; 
 departed, Pierre, at the gate, gracefully kiss- 
 ing the hand of Monsieur, of whom he is very 
 fond. 
 
 Pierre and Robert are not the only volun- 
 tary assistants to the teaching force; for, in 
 fact, each one of the household contributes 
 his or her part. The housekeeper is most kind 
 and painstaking in helping you along. To her, 
 to teach French is to know no English, and she 
 utterly refuses to understand anything but her 
 native tongue. Aileen, the maid, who came 
 
TOUT LE MONDE HAD TEA IX THE PARK. 
 
At a Frencli Chateau 29 
 
 daily to tidy my room, never made any re- 
 sponse to my ^' Come," but would stand rap- 
 ping till I called out '' Entrez,'' no matter how 
 long I kept her waiting. Even Rene and 
 Eric do not hesitate to add their part by mak- 
 ing corrections when one does not use the right 
 word. The first sound of the morning, the 
 quoi? quoi? (what? what?), under my win- 
 dow, reminded me that I must begin the 
 day with French — French — and nothing but 
 French. The glow worm, that lived in an 
 oleander urn upon one of the posts of the 
 perron (piazza), sent out its little light every 
 evening; and when Mademoiselle J. was 
 pleased to wear it in her bosom, it still shone 
 on, apparently always willing, whether at 
 home or abroad, to add its tiny part toward 
 enlightening the world. 
 
 Only secondary to the teaching propensity 
 is the social. Scotland, England, France, 
 Switzerland, and America are jolly good 
 friends together. Charming Juliette, an 
 American girl, smiles on all, not forgetting 
 her little Romeo, who holds up a flower from 
 underneath her balcony. Hens, chickens, rab- 
 bits, and a turtle live happily together; and 
 
30 At a French Chateau 
 
 when, one day, I enter the hen yard to take a 
 picture, a kind poulette picks from my skirt 
 the little clinging seeds known as beggars' lice, 
 clucking socially as she does so. In truth, 
 sociability is in the atmosphere; it is conta- 
 gious. Before a week had passed, Billie had 
 so far caught the spirit that almost anytime 
 during the day he could be seen gargoyling 
 from his third-story window to bid " Bon jour, 
 Monsieur! '^ or ''Bon jour, Madame! " or 
 ^^ Bon jour, Mademoiselle!" or '^ Bon jour, 
 tout le monde!'' with quite a chez-moi air. 
 
 The evening is, however, the time of greatest 
 sociability. As soon as dinner is over, all go 
 out on the long perron for a half hour of sheer 
 nonsense. There Billie was in his element; 
 and nobody disputed his right to be. Indeed, 
 he was encouraged rather than otherwise. He 
 always seemed to be able to strike a responsive 
 chord in Madame R. ; and when one day, bow- 
 ing very low, he accosted her with a '^Voulez 
 vous danser avec moi? " he found her ready. 
 Back and forth on the long perron she gaily 
 and spiritedly danced with him; and, taking 
 up as much of the refrain to his accompani- 
 
SCOTLAND, ENGLAND, FRANCE, SWITZERLAND, 
 AND AMERICA. 
 
\ 
 
!At a French Chateau 31 
 
 ment as she could manage, as gaily and spirit- 
 edly sang with him, " It's a bear, it's a bear, 
 it's a bear. There! " much to our amusement, 
 until Billie had worked off a little of his seven- 
 teen-year-old energy and was ready to stop. 
 After the visit on the perron, there is usually 
 a promenade, the favorite one at this time 
 down to the Seine, that being only a short 
 walk. 
 
 On the return, all, perhaps, sit for a time 
 on the stone steps at the entrance to wait for 
 the facteur (mail-carrier) and then go to the 
 salon to read letters, where, if the evening is 
 chill, a cheerful fire is kindled in the wide 
 hospitable grate. Checkers, chess, and back- 
 gammon furnish entertainment for those who 
 enjoy the games, until Monsieur W. is ready 
 to conclude the evening with a short musical 
 program, in which both guests and host take 
 part. The songs are commonly in the French 
 or Italian tongue. For that reason, when one 
 night Monsieur W., who has a rare voice and 
 delivery, sang so feelingly some of the choicest 
 of our American songs, it seemed as if a breath 
 from the homeland had been wafted across 
 
32 At a French Chateau 
 
 the sea; and how sweet a breath it was! I 
 could readily see that I was not even in the 
 smallest degree being weaned from my native 
 tongue. In fact, the more I heard the French, 
 the more I loved my English, strange as it 
 may seem. 
 
 When it is bed time at the Chateau, there is 
 a general hand-shaking and kind wishes of 
 '' bon soir/' Then you grope your way 
 through the long, narrow, dark halls to your 
 chambres a coucher, — yes, grope, for the halls 
 are not lighted, and your lamps are in your 
 rooms to be lighted by you when you enter. 
 
 I shall never forget the night I lost my way 
 when going to bed. I had gone up ahead of 
 the others, and was absent-mindedly feeling 
 my way along, when all at once it occurred to 
 me that I had no idea where I was. I had 
 taken steps upward and steps downward, turn- 
 ings to right, and turnings to left, I thought; 
 but, of the steps and turnings I had lost my 
 count. As I was the only one on the third 
 floor, there was not a gleam of light from 
 underneath anyone's door and practically no 
 light through the hall casements, as it was 
 such a night as 
 
CHARMING JULIETTE AND HER ROMEO. 
 
At a French Chateau 
 
 33 
 
 '' when the dragon womb 
 Of Stygian darkness spets her thickest gloom 
 And makes one blot of all the air." 
 
 Had I gone past Billie's door? I rather 
 thought so but was not certain. Finally I 
 discovered that I was face to face with some 
 steep stairs leading upward. I had a dim 
 recollection of such a flight of steps, that I 
 had walked past many times in going to and 
 from my room. Somehow they had never 
 made any impression on me before. These, I 
 thought, were just one turn from my room, 
 so I went on until I found myself up against 
 a bare blank wall. That was puzzling. I 
 was just deliberating whether my wiser course 
 were to turn around and go back or to pro- 
 ceed on my uncertain way, when I heard 
 Mademoiselle J. coming up the stairs. Al- 
 though she spoke no English, and I couldn't 
 for the moment find the French for light or 
 match, she understood my lampe and came to 
 my rescue. I was only one turn from my own 
 door. 
 
 Notwithstanding this occurrence, I slept 
 soundly and peacefully; and when morning 
 
34 ^t a French Chateau 
 
 had come and I had again shaken hands with 
 tout le monde at cafe an lait, I felt that an- 
 other day was properly begun — a day of unin- 
 terrupted harmony in which love would be 
 the dominant note. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 The Chateau's History 
 
 Just inside the hall entrance to the Chateau 
 hangs a wooden tablet, on which is written in 
 white paint the following: — 
 
 Rene Mesmet 1729 
 
 Bien National 1789 
 
 Delore 1793 
 
 Taignay 181 1 
 
 Wolf 1821 
 
 Kemnis 1829 
 
 Creux 1844 
 
 Haime 1861 
 
 Bruslon 1879 
 
 Eric Besnard 1898 
 
 Such are the names of some of the owners 
 of the Chateau, the last, Eric Besnard, being 
 
 35 
 
36 At a French Chateau 
 
 that of the present one. It is a curious coinci- 
 dence that the two little sons of Monsieur W., 
 Rene and Eric, bear the Christian names of 
 the first and last persons recorded on the tablet. 
 The names of proprietors from 1650 to 1729, 
 when Rene Mesmet came into possession, and 
 from his time to 1789, I had no available 
 means of ascertaining. But this we know, that 
 in 1789 the then owner, whoever he may have 
 been, fled the fury of 'the Revolution; and the 
 property was confiscated by the French gov- 
 ernment. The Bien National held possession 
 for four years, when the property was sold 
 to Monsieur Delore. 
 
 The fugitive, it is said, left a buried treas- 
 ure. Whether this is in the great dining-room 
 chimney, as clairvoyants have stated, or else- 
 where, seems to be the great query. One thing 
 is certain, there are so many places it might 
 be, that it would be like hunting for error in 
 absolute truth to try to recover it and probably 
 about as hopeless a task, and might involve the 
 razing of the entire fine old Chateau with still 
 no treasure in sight. One thing nobody seems 
 to doubt, and that is that there is such treas- 
 ure somewhere. At one time, when it was 
 
^Hf 
 
 i. 
 
 ^R 
 
 RENE AND ERIC. 
 
At a French Chateau 37 
 
 necessary to upholster anew some of the big 
 salon chairs, several pieces of silver were found 
 hidden in the luxurious depth of their pad- 
 ding. 
 
 Madame W. took me walking one after- 
 noon through a long narrow lane just outside 
 the park wall, the lane opening up into a 
 bushy field immediately back of the Chateau 
 grounds. It is here that a former proprietor, 
 believing he had located the exact spot, once 
 dug for the hidden treasure. (This field was 
 once a part of the Chateau park, sold by the 
 owner in a time of financial distress.) The 
 anxious searcher found no gold, and a flat 
 stone now covers the grave of his buried hopes. 
 Nearby, however, is an interesting little stone 
 house, doorless now, so that through the open- 
 ing we could see a descending stone stairway. 
 I explored, however, no farther than one step 
 downward, finding the way blocked up by 
 earth, stones and water. This little building is 
 thought to have been a means of exit from one 
 of the three underground passages known to 
 have existed in the dark days preceding the 
 Revolution. The exits from the others are 
 supposed to have been several miles out, this 
 
38 At a French Chateau 
 
 probably having been the nearest one. The 
 Chateau entrances to these underground pas- 
 sages are now closed, and the secret of their lo- 
 cation is unknown; but mysterious-looking 
 places* in the cellar wall are now believed to 
 have been the means of departure for the poor 
 fellows who long ago found home stripped of 
 its protection and the very unsafest place for 
 them to stay. How much they deserved it, it 
 is hard to tell. These, I say, are supposed to 
 have been the entrances; but as for that mat- 
 ter, secret doors almost anywhere in the double 
 walls of the Chateau might easily have ad- 
 mitted an average-sized man and been his 
 means of ingress to the subterranean passages 
 below. These walls, both the outside and 
 those between rooms, have oftentimes a thick- 
 ness quite sufficient for this purpose, and are 
 often utilized for deep closets and cupboards, 
 the doors fitting into the walls and often 
 papered like the room so that, when closed, 
 their presence is scarcely perceptible. 
 
 The oldest portion of the Chateau de Soisy 
 was commenced in 1650. At least twice since 
 then important additions have been made to 
 the Chateau, to say nothing of the small of- 
 

 
 ^^^m: ' ■■.!**** 
 
 w 
 
 
 M^^M 
 
 ^^^^MBaBTO^8HHj^^^^^CT^^Bi.j^^-. ^tBpil 
 
At a French Chateau 39 
 
 fices, that have sprung up like mushrooms 
 close to the vine-laden w^alls, to meet the needs, 
 or fancied needs, of different generations. 
 The building, as it now stands, has the appear- 
 ance of two houses of very different architec- 
 ture grown together, both gray with age, the 
 whole a picturesque old pile, in fact '* a goodly 
 dwelling and a rich.'' It is three stories high, 
 and constructed of stone smoothly plastered 
 over. The oldest part includes the kitchen, 
 the long dining-room, the main hallway and 
 two salons (but not the large one) on the 
 ground floor, and many chambers above. One 
 notable feature is the very great number of 
 outside doors. Practically every room on the 
 ground floor has one; and the dining-room, 
 which extends the entire width of the building, 
 has two, one on each side. Curiosity prompted 
 me to walk around the building and count 
 them, with the result that I discovered sixteen. 
 These are nearly all double doors, the outer 
 ones heavy wooden shutters. Double doors 
 also are in many instances between rooms, the 
 intervening space being often wide enough so 
 that one may stand therein in perfect comfort 
 with both doors closed. 
 
40 At a French Chateau 
 
 The present-day billiard room was once 
 used as a chapel, where marriages and bap- 
 tisms were solemnized, the audience sitting 
 in the big salon, which opens out of it. This 
 was at a time when, because of religious per- 
 secution, it was unsafe to perform such cere- 
 monies in the church. 
 
 Around this fascinating old pile there are 
 twelve acres of park, including the garden, 
 the whole surrounded by a high stone wall, the 
 only opening being the great iron gateway at 
 the front. 
 
 Such is the fine old estate, now owned by 
 Monsieur Eric Besnard, a Parisian lawyer, 
 and leased by Monsieur Williamson-de-Visme 
 for his School Home. For a few years past 
 the place has been allowed sadly to run down, 
 either from lack of funds or lack of interest; 
 and, except for a few weeks in summer, no 
 one lived at the Chateau save the care-taker 
 and his family and the indispensable Laura, 
 until the coming of the good people whose 
 chief business in life is to be good and to do 
 good, and Vv^hose greatest remuneration is in 
 being happy and in giving happiness. Now, 
 literally waste places are beginning to bloom; 
 
At a French Chateau 41 
 
 and every day bestows its gift of general im- 
 provement. Ernest, the care-taker, is grati- 
 fied to see the return of its one-time thriving 
 aspect, and for that end cheerfully works from 
 early morning until it is time to make fast 
 the gate for the night. 
 
 Just outside the Chateau gate is the Church 
 of Notre Dame de Soisy-sous-Etiolles. A 
 tablet at the entrance gives the information 
 that la Chap ell e de la Ste Vierge was con- 
 structed in 1653. It is interesting to note that 
 this was but three years after the Chateau 
 building was commenced. I entered the 
 church one day, an interesting place on the 
 whole, to seek for the chapel, as that portion 
 of the church is supposed to have belonged 
 with the Chateau estate in the early days. I 
 had no difficulty in finding the part which en- 
 shrines the image of the Virgin Mary; and 
 when I discovered its style of architecture and 
 composition, though very diflferent from that 
 of the rest of the edifice, to be identical with 
 that of the Chateau, even to the hexagonally- 
 shaped red stones comprising the floor, I did 
 not doubt the truth of the claim. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 'At the Lavoir 
 
 To me by no means one of the least inter- 
 esting places in the Chateau park was the 
 lavoir (wash-house) ; and by no meanfs one of 
 the least interesting of the people who 
 were often seen there was the blanchisseuse 
 (washer-woman.) Hence, I was a frequent 
 visitor at the lavoir on washing days. 
 
 The lavoir is a novel, old, one- room stone 
 house, completely open on one side and with- 
 out doors and windows. Its most notable fea- 
 ture, partly under cover of the house and 
 partly in the open, is a huge square tank, about 
 three feet deep, with cement sides and bottom, 
 in effect, a great sunken wash-tub, in which 
 the family washings are done. Entirely 
 around the top of this is a cement shelving 
 about a foot wide, sloping inward. It is upon 
 these sloping sides that the clothes are soaped, 
 
 42 
 
1 
 
At a French Chateau 43 
 
 squeezed, slapped, and brushed until they 
 come out white and clean. Through a large 
 iron pipe a stream of water is continually flow- 
 ing into this tank, the outlet being a cement 
 trough leading to a channel, which winds 
 across the park to the duck pond. This con- 
 stant changing of the water keeps the pool 
 comparatively clear; and here the washing, 
 sudsing, and rinsing is done, all at the same 
 time. Back of the tank is a flat stove, on which 
 a great boiler rests ; and in this the clothes are 
 boiled. 
 
 So much for the place. As for the humble 
 woman that graced it, she was not much to 
 look at, with her baggy blouse, generous apron, 
 clumsy wooden shoes, and stringy black hair, 
 to no great extent confined by her small comb 
 and single hairpin; but she always gave me 
 a welcome whenever I was pleased to make 
 her a call and so, I felt, amply made up for 
 an uninteresting exterior in sociability. 
 
 For equipment our blanchisseuse has a 
 paddle, a scrub brush, and a big bar of soap 
 four or ^Yt inches through. Then she kneels 
 in what looks like a wooden box w^ith top and 
 one end removed, the sides sloping as in the 
 
44 At a French Chateau 
 
 body of a Roman chariot, the whole much re- 
 sembling one. The bottom of this is padded 
 with hay to make a cushion for the knees. 
 Once in her box, she leans over and puts the 
 soiled garment into the water; the cleansing 
 process is begun. Then she lays the garment 
 on the sloping side of the tank, soaps it 
 thoroughly, rolls it up, and gives it a few slaps 
 with her paddle to cause the soap to penetrate 
 to all parts, squeezes it, then unrolls it, lays 
 it out flat, and, after dipping her brush into 
 the water, brushes it on both sides, gives it a 
 parting dip in the water, and then lays it aside 
 for a time to repeat the process on the other 
 garments. I watched her for a long time one 
 day while she w^as washing the towels ; and it 
 is surprising how the dirt disappeared under 
 this process. It seemed to me that the clothes 
 would need no boiling after that, but she 
 seemed to think otherwise. 
 
 Afterward I did not hesitate to give her 
 my blouses and skirts to launder, though she 
 took them home with her and, perhaps, soaped, 
 and slapped and brushed them on a big flat 
 stone on the banks of the Seine, sousing them 
 up and down in the limpid waters of that 
 
ON THE BANKS OF THE SEINE. 
 
-1 
 I 
 
At a French Chateau 45 
 
 river, which serves as a common wash-tub to 
 the peasant women who live along its borders. 
 At all events they came back looking white 
 and clean ; and I might truthfully say, as the 
 husband said to his wife, who proudly brought 
 to his notice some exquisitely hemmed napkins 
 of her own handiwork, " They wouldn't have 
 been done better if I had done them myself." 
 
 La blanchisseuse and I had frequent visits. 
 Somehow I was able to understand her better 
 than I could some of the good people at the 
 Chateau, perhaps because the vocabulary at 
 her command was not large and more nearly 
 fitted my own, which contained only the com- 
 monest of words. One day, when she was 
 particularly communicative, I asked her what 
 she was kneeling in. 
 
 '' Une boite a laver'' (a washing-box), she 
 answered. Interpreted, this is the conversa- 
 tion that followed: 
 
 " Your method of washing is very interest- 
 ing," I said. 
 
 "Oh, yes," she responded; "you do not 
 wash this way in America? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 "You wash at a tub?" 
 
46 At a French Chateau 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "And standing up!" a look of real com- 
 miseration on her face. 
 
 '' Yes." 
 
 " It must be very difficult," she sighed, with 
 a shake of the head. 
 
 " And do you wash out here during the 
 winter? " I questioned. 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 "But isn't it too cold?" 
 
 " Oh, no, it is quite comfortable." 
 
 It was evident that she was not envying us 
 our set tubs and running hot and cold water; 
 she was quite satisfied with her way of wash- 
 ing. Truly I doubt if my lady of the palace 
 is more at ease in her boudoir than is my lady 
 of the lavoir, when she kneels in her Roman 
 chariot to run down the grime and dirt of 
 the Chateau's washing with the prancing 
 steeds, Soap, Brush, and Paddle. Begging the 
 Bishop's pardon for the change in gender, — 
 
 ''Her hair, French-like, stares on her 
 
 frighted head. 
 One lock, Amazon-like, dishevelled." 
 
 The last time I visited her, I asked her if 
 
At a French Chateau 47 
 
 I might take her photographic. She smiled 
 and immediately posed, her paddle raised as 
 though she were about to use it. I was sorry 
 to have the picture a failure, but such it was. 
 Ma blanchisseuse is not the only one who 
 uses the pool. I was surprised to learn that 
 both girls and boys at the Chateau are accus- 
 tomed to take a plunge now and then when the 
 water is clear. Mademoiselle J. often taking 
 one in the early morning before the petit 
 dejeuner, I did not try it; but Billie said 
 that the water was not cold. I did, how- 
 ever, try the boite a laver and found it 
 not uncomfortable. Billie said he thought 
 I would make quite a respectable-looking 
 washer-woman, and took a snap-shot of me, 
 as I knelt, that I might, as he said, see myself 
 as others saw me. I intended to try my hand 
 at washing there; but when I was ready, I 
 found that Ernest had drawn off the water in 
 order to clean the tank and at the same time 
 flood the duck pond. Thus my purpose was 
 thwarted, and I suppose I shall have to re- 
 main the lady of the wash-tub and not of the 
 lavoir all my mortal days. Well, it is not 
 wise to be too ambitious. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 'Ernest and His Family 
 
 Speaking of Ernest, reminds me of 
 Monsieur W's. remarks concerning him. 
 " Ernest," said he, *' is a servant of the old 
 regime, loyal and faithful. One of the evil 
 results of the Revolution," he added, " v^as to 
 make the servant element faithless and in- 
 solent. Many of the domestics nov^ think 
 themselves not only as good as their employers 
 but vastly superior, with the result that they 
 study to see how little work they can do and 
 just when and where they may defraud their 
 masters." (My experience in a Paris hotel 
 shortly before had prepared me to credit this 
 statement.) 
 
 But this is surely not the case with Ernest, 
 for a more cheerful, courteous, valuable, and 
 dependable man about the place could hardly 
 be imagined. He works incessantly. One 
 
 48 
 
At a French Chateau 49 
 
 may see him almost any time during the day 
 in his long apron, " the sign of his profession," 
 about his accustomed duties. In the early 
 morning he is feeding the ducks, beating rugs, 
 picking up dry twigs and piling them up for 
 future use in kindling fires (for nothing is 
 wasted here), or sweeping the paths or court- 
 yard with his besom broom, that everything 
 may have a tidy appearance. 
 
 I often felt inclined to visit the garden 
 after the petit dejeuner, when everything 
 looked its freshest and best. I liked to saunter 
 leisurely down the main path between the 
 apple-tree hedges, past the one-time fountains, 
 over to the decrepit old well-house, and thence, 
 perhaps, to wander aimlessly around in the 
 narrow footpaths till I came to the old green- 
 house, close to the gate, with the rose bushes 
 on one side and the tangles of vegetables and 
 flowers on the other, — everywhere enjoying 
 the fragance that pervaded the atmosphere, 
 and delighting in the evidences all around, 
 that the old garden, with all else, has taken a 
 new lease of life and is likely to bloom and to 
 bear fruitage for ages to come. 
 
 Usually I would find Ernest there, bend- 
 
50 At a French Chateau 
 
 ing his back over vegetable or flower beds, 
 but always ready with his ''Bon jour, made- 
 moiselle/' with perhaps a bit more by way of 
 greeting or information, which I did not al- 
 ways understand. Cheerily this faithful man 
 keeps at his work from early morning till the 
 Chateau people are all in for the night, and it 
 is time to make fast the shutters and doors 
 and lock the big iron gateway. This done, 
 Ernest right there in his lodge, and Laura in 
 her kennel close by, one feels that, '' Our 
 castle's strength might laugh a siege to scorn," 
 at least any that might threaten the Chateau, 
 people of to-day. 
 
 Dwelling with him in his lodge, is his smil- 
 ing, good-natured wife, head cook at the 
 Chateau, and two little sons, the latter almost 
 invariably in high-necked, long-sleeved black 
 aprons, the common garb for boys of school 
 age, whether in school or at play. The little 
 lads are evidently being reared as befitting 
 boys of their station, for one frequently sees 
 them raking up the park, picking up potatoes, 
 carrying baskets of vegetables to the kitchen, 
 or sitting on a bench just outside the kitchen 
 door, breaking up string beans, or in some 
 
TAKEN INTO THE QUEER-LOOKING BOX. 
 
At a French Chateau 51 
 
 other way helping their busy mother in pre- 
 paring the delectable foods for the table. 
 
 They are always polite, never failing to 
 doff their wide-brimmed straw hats and make 
 very low bows when they meet one. They 
 are very fond of having their photographies 
 taken, and expectantly strike an attitude when- 
 ever they see one near with an open kodak, 
 keeping perfectly quiet until they learn 
 whether or not one has designs upon them. 
 Rene and Eric, too, are willing to be taken 
 into the queer little box; but immediately 
 thereafter they want to look into your kodak 
 to see what you have there. The latter wish 
 to investigate, to understand; the former take 
 the act on trust, and no further trouble their 
 little heads about it. 
 
 I could not help contrasting the lot of this 
 humble man of all work with that of the scores 
 of servants of the palmy days of yore. And, 
 yet I much doubt if the one-time porter in all 
 his livery was as happy as the man of to-day 
 who, with his be-aproned family, makes his 
 home in the tiny stone lodge by the gateway. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 Favorite Walks 
 
 Everybody at the Chateau walks— or rather 
 promenades; and there are many interesting 
 ways that one may take. Of course there is 
 always the tour of the park; but the Chateau 
 people do not by any means confine them- 
 selves to that. In shade hats and with cane in 
 hand, they love to take long tramps on country 
 roads, often not for the purpose of reaching 
 any place in particular, but for the mere 
 pleasure of walking. 
 
 The favorite short walk is down to the 
 River Seine, to reach which one passes the 
 old church and then takes almost a bee line 
 through a most magnificent avenue of inter- 
 locking trees, the giant size of many of them 
 testifying to a growth of centuries. The first 
 glance into this ever lessening vista is a sur- 
 prise and joy. With reverence you enter the 
 
 52 
 
TO THE RIVER SEINE. 
 
At a French Chateau 53 
 
 shadowy depths of this great natural cathedral, 
 and softly tread its nave and choir toward the 
 heaven lighted chancel at the farther end. No 
 vehicles except baby carriages are permitted 
 in this avenue: and almost any time during 
 a pleasant day you may see little family groups 
 about the stone benches which line the way, 
 enjoying the cool shade of the trees, Maman 
 often knitting or employing her hands in some 
 similar way while she entertains baby in his 
 chariot near by, or watches the older children 
 as they play about her knees. 
 
 As you emerge at the lock in the river, you 
 may see other groups lolling upon the river 
 banks, with their picnic baskets, awaiting, per- 
 haps, the hungry coming of father, brother, 
 or son, from among the numbers that are fish- 
 ing from their boats all along the river. These 
 fishermen surely do know how to take life 
 leisurely for many of them sit in their boats 
 and fish all day long, Waltons, as far as 
 their love for the sport is concerned, and 
 ^' compleat anglers," indeed, without any res- 
 ervation whatsoever. Where no family parties 
 await them on the river banks, they have their 
 bags and baskets of lunch along with them so 
 
[54 At a French Chateau 
 
 that there may be no interruption to their 
 piscatory occupation until the waning day 
 compels it. 
 
 Then you may walk along the beautiful 
 river, miles if you wish, in narrow hard- 
 beaten paths, through green fields, past house- 
 boat bathing places, discovering, perhaps, on 
 the opposite bank some imposing chateau 
 " bosomed high in tufted trees," at last 
 abruptly leaving the river to go home by 
 other picturesque avenues almost equal to the 
 one by which you came. 
 
 It is much to the credit of the French 
 people that even in such small villages as 
 Soisy-sous-Etiolles, they expend much care 
 on the beautifying of public roads and parks, 
 where the poor as well as the rich may freely 
 go, and which in a sense they may call their 
 own. 
 
 Then there is the tour at random, or tour 
 of discovery. Mademoiselle L. from Arkansas 
 and I started out on one of this kind one after- 
 noon, neither of us having any definite goal 
 in view, and for a time walking aimlessly 
 about the little village, picturesque in the 
 usual old-world quaintness, but possessing 
 
1 
 
At a French Chateau 55 
 
 little that is remarkable. Finally we strayed 
 off into a country road for no particular reason 
 only that we had never been that way before 
 and had no idea where the road would lead 
 us. We followed this some distance out; and 
 it was not long before we were convinced that 
 we had made a happy choice, for we found the 
 road to run parallel to the Seine, with orchard 
 after orchard of fruit-laden trees on the one 
 side and a row of modern chateaus on the 
 other. 
 
 Chateaus, as I understand the term, were 
 formerly fortified country-seats, or castles ; as 
 Burke puts it ^' The strong chateaus, those 
 feudal fortresses;" but the present day 
 chateaus are simply palatial country houses, 
 with extensive parks enclosed, as formerly, by 
 high stone walls. Such were those along our 
 way. Here and there through the iron gate- 
 ways we could catch brief glimpses of splendid 
 palaces, velvet lawns, and flower beds bright 
 with bloom; but for the most part the high 
 walls shut off the view. 
 
 Having gone as far out as we cared to, we 
 descended through a narrow lane to the river 
 and then followed the beaten path along the 
 
56 At a French Chateau 
 
 stream in the direction of home, pausing now 
 and then to watch the fishermen at their 
 patient angling, or the women gleaners in their 
 wooden shoes, gathering the left-over straws 
 of wheat into their ample aprons, while babes 
 amused themselves on heaps of straw near by. 
 We noted with pleasure the attractive ap- 
 pearance of the huts along the way, for how- 
 ever mean the hut or however scanty the plot 
 of ground, the occupants had found time to 
 attend to their embellishment, as was evi- 
 denced by the brilliantly-colored flower-beds, 
 trailing vines wherever there was anything to 
 which they might cling, and the potted plants 
 on window-sill and door-step. Arriving at 
 the lock, we made our way through the famous 
 avenue of which mention has been made, past 
 the Church of the Notre Dame to the Chateau 
 gate. 
 
 The favorite long walk, is, perhaps, to the 
 Forest of Senart. You must go some dis- 
 tance before reaching the woodland, a part of 
 the way along fields of waving wheat, thickly 
 besprinkled with scarlet poppies; and, as you 
 walk, you pluck the spears of ripened grain, 
 as was done by the disciples of old, and eat the 
 
CARREFOUR DU CHUJNE. 
 
At a French Chateau 57 
 
 sweet kernels. You see the peasants in their 
 wooden shoes cutting the grain with their little 
 sickles, or gathering it into heaps ; and as you 
 approach nearer the forest, you become aware 
 that Scotland does not have a monopoly of 
 heather, for here the roadsides are thickly 
 bordered with its purplish-pink blossoms. As 
 you advance, the road becomes more wooded 
 and picturesque; and when you are fairly in 
 the forest, a short walk brings you to the 
 Carrefour du Chene, where a huge oak marks 
 the crossing of the roads. 
 
 This is a good place for pedestrians to rest, 
 and we took advantage of the opportunity 
 offered before going on. I had been reading 
 Robert Louis Stevenson's " Inland Voyages '^ 
 and was now ready to agree with him that 
 " Surely of all smells in the world the smell of 
 many trees is the sweetest and most fortify- 
 ing." A sign at one of the less frequented 
 roads warned us of a Chassee Reserve in that 
 direction; and we turned our backs on the 
 hunting reservation to follow one of the main 
 roads, which forms almost a right angle with 
 the way by which we had entered the wood. 
 
 But the Chassee Reserve reminded us fore- 
 
58 At a French Chateau 
 
 ibly that we were walking in the famous 
 Forest of Senart, once a much frequented 
 hunting-ground of Louis XV and the place 
 where Madame d' Etiolles (Madame de 
 Pompadour) first attracted his attention. 
 
 The story goes that the young and beautiful 
 Madame d' Etiolles promised eternal fidelity 
 to her husband unless the king should fall in 
 love w^ith her. Lenorman d' Etiolles took this 
 as a huge joke at the time for it was not at all 
 probable that his majesty would do so. D' 
 Etiolles owned an abandoned chateau in the 
 forest of Senart; and when Madame learned 
 that the king frequently hunted in the forest, 
 she persuaded her husband to have the chateau 
 repaired and newly furnished, that they might 
 spend their summers there, claiming that her 
 physicians had recommended a change of air 
 for her. Suspecting nothing, the indulgent 
 husband had the chateau decorated and fur- 
 nished in the most splendid style. Once in- 
 stalled in her palatial residence, Madame had 
 made to order three or four carriages of fairy- 
 like lightness and graceful form. As she had 
 hoped, she often met the king when on her 
 drives, but at first he paid no attention to her. 
 
At a French Chateau 59 
 
 She was not to be repelled, however, and re- 
 doubled her efforts to make herself attractive 
 in the eyes of the royal sportsman, — at one 
 time in an azure robe, seated in a rose-colored 
 phaeton, at another, in a robe of rose, in a 
 phaeton of pale blue. All these wiles were 
 not without affect, and soon she had a speak- 
 ing acquaintance, which in time ripened into 
 an infatuation that for twenty years made her 
 the king's favorite at the Court of Versailles. 
 Musing on the singular life of this woman, 
 the ruling passion of whose heart was ambi- 
 tion, I followed along the road toward 
 Etiolles, making at length a sharp turn to- 
 ward the right into a less frequented way 
 terminating in a path which leads back to the 
 place at which we had entered the forest. 
 Then instead of returning the way by which 
 we had come, we took a path to the right, 
 which leads away from the big trees and 
 beaten path to where blackberries grow thick 
 and luscious, and dainty pink flowers peep 
 here and there from the green grass. Then we 
 came out upon a red-stone quarry where tw^o 
 poor fellows in stripes running horizontally 
 
6o At a French Chateau 
 
 were breaking up stone for use in building 
 roads, with a groan at every stroke. 
 
 Thence we returned the shortest way by 
 country roads and rural lanes back to little 
 Soisy-sous-Etiolles. 
 
 Soisy-sous-Etiolles (Soisy under or below 
 Etiolles.) As one might infer from the name, 
 the village of Etiolles is situated above Soisy; 
 and up the hill a party of us walked one after- 
 noon to seek out the quaint little town at the' 
 edge of the Forest of Senart, of which the 
 family d' Etiolles was once the life. For some^ 
 distance we followed the high wall that marks 
 the boundary, on one side, of the park which 
 once surrounded the splendid chateau where 
 Madame Pompadour, by private theatricals, 
 in which she performed the most brilliant 
 parts, sought to gain the admiration of her 
 king. 
 
 This great park is now used as a hunting- 
 ground by its owner, who, on purchasing it, 
 at once consigned it to the spoiler, pulling 
 down the fine old chateau and selling off 
 pictures and furniture, it is said, enough to 
 cover the cost to him of the whole estate. 
 The old stone seats now in the park of the 
 
At a French Chateau 6i 
 
 Chateau de Soisy once rested in the park of 
 Madame Pompadour. The last to make his 
 home in the Etiolles chateau was Count 
 Walewski, son of Napoleon I. 
 
 A short walk up a quaint and time-worn 
 street brought us to the church of Etiolles, 
 the objective point of our pilgrimage. This 
 ancient church has some especially interesting 
 old paintings, perhaps the most notable one of 
 Jesus, and the Holy Virgin in an attitude of 
 adoration. This was presented to the church 
 by the Emperor Napoleon III. Another of 
 perhaps second merit is that given by Madame 
 Walewski. 
 
 Here the old church stands, in a sense, a 
 monument to former grandeur; but the glory 
 of Etiolles has departed. Visitors come oc- 
 casionally to roam about for a little in town 
 and forest, the greatest interest of which cen- 
 ters in the strange and eventful career of the 
 woman who was, for a portion of the eigh- 
 teenth century, virtually premier of France. 
 The Council of Ministers met in her boudoir, 
 and there most important matters of state were 
 settled. There generals, ministers, and ambas- 
 sadors were chosen or rejected, according to 
 
62 At a French Chateau 
 
 her caprice. But not only in the heavenly 
 city must *' mighty potentates and dynasties 
 lay down their honors/' but everywhere and 
 under all circumstances. The fickle mon- 
 arch, having become tired of his long-time 
 favorite, Madame de Pompadour spent her 
 last days a disappointed and disconsolate 
 creature, without admiration or sympathy. 
 What a pity that a woman of her marvelous 
 ability could not have learned early that not 
 only '' has evil no standing in good society " 
 but that it has no stability in any society ; 
 and so have left a stainless record of good 
 and great works. 
 
 The walks that I have mentioned are not 
 by any means the only ones of interest about 
 Soisy-sous-EtioUes. Evry and Petit-Bourg 
 are characteristic French country towns, 
 quaint and picturesque, and within easy 
 walking distance of the Chateau, as is also 
 Corbeil, of which I shall tell in the next 
 chapter ; but those of which I have written 
 are perhaps the favorite ones of the Chateau 
 people. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 Market Day at Corbeil 
 
 Tuesdays and Fridays are market days at 
 Corbeil ; and on those days people from all the 
 country round hurry thither to do their 
 marketing, some of them walking quite con- 
 siderable distances. I went one Tuesday 
 morning with Madame R., having arisen an 
 hour earlier and taken my cafe au lait some- 
 what hurriedly, to do so. We walked to the 
 station of Evry-Petit-Bourg, a distance of two 
 kilometres, to take the train and went at what 
 I should call a brisk trot (Madame R. is a 
 good walker). There we found dozens of 
 other women, with baskets and mesh bags, 
 also going to market. 
 
 'Among them was our little Paris friend, 
 Mademoiselle L., accompanied by her Maman 
 and a maid. Mademoiselle was most charm- 
 
 63 
 
64 At a French Chateau 
 
 ing to me that day, and entertained me in her 
 best manner. I was getting somewhat accus- 
 tomed to the French tongue and could now 
 understand, perhaps, a tithe of what she said 
 to me. I was conscious at one time that she 
 was inquiring about Billie and expressing the 
 opinion that he was a boii garqon and tres 
 amusant, in which I quite agreed with her; 
 but what he was doing that morning and why 
 he didn't come to market I was unable to tell 
 her. I thought very likely, though, that, hav- 
 ing eaten his petit dejeuner, he was employing 
 himself before study time in the very practical 
 way of hectoring the girls. But I was not 
 worried, for I knew that should he be inclined 
 to carry his pranks beyond the bounds of 
 decorum, Mademoiselle J. would quell him 
 (or try to) with the little English that she 
 knew (or thought she knew) which con- 
 sisted solely of the phrase " f resche keed!" 
 always with an exclamation mark after it, 
 should one wish to write it. 
 
 It was a matter of only a few minutes when 
 we were at Corbeil, quite a good-sized village; 
 and a short walk brought us to the market, a 
 place long to be remembered but not easily 
 
EVERYTHING WAS THERE FOR SALE. 
 
At a French Chateau 65 
 
 described. Tout le monde was there, from the 
 bediamoned lady to the bedraggled scrub- 
 woman, some buying some selling. There 
 spread out along a wide square for several rods 
 was what one might at a first glance call a 
 department store, but he finds that the dif- 
 ferent departments are so many distinct shops. 
 Everything was there for sale : patent medi- 
 cines and wooden shoes, fresh fish and Sun- 
 day hats, cheese and canary birds, cabbages 
 and neckties, all in a conglomerate mass. If 
 anything was lacking, I did not discover what. 
 The market-place at Buda-Pesth does not 
 outdo the market-place of Corbeil, either in 
 variety of articles on sale, or in representative 
 types of the people of the country. 
 
 After the housekeeper had bought some 
 cakes and a big fish, and I had taken a few 
 pictures, we two walked down to the Seine to 
 see the fishermen in their boats and then past 
 the Grand Moulin de Corbeil, one of the most 
 important grist mills in France, to the impres- 
 sive and interesting old church of St. Ger- 
 main. This magnificent religious monument 
 dates back to the 9th century and was founded 
 by M. Haymon, the first count of Corbeil. It 
 
66 At a French Chateau 
 
 is situated in the ancient cloister of Saint- 
 Spire, which we entered through a fine old- 
 gateway of the 1 2th century. 
 
 Madame R. left her big fish, done up at full 
 length in a newspaper, in a recess between an 
 outer and an inner door. Then we entered, 
 and I was soon aware that the interior is quite 
 as interesting as the exterior of the church. 
 At the entrance there is a long list of the names 
 of all priests who have had the church in 
 charge since its founding. Another one re- 
 cords the names of prominent benefactors of 
 the church, among them several kings, for this 
 church was a very important one up to the 
 time of the Revolution and had special atten- 
 tion from some of the sovereigns. Notable 
 among them was Louis IX, a zealous crusader 
 of the 13th century, afterward canonized as 
 St. Louis. This saintly king, it is said, pur- 
 chased from Baldwin, Emperor of Constan- 
 tinople, the Crown of Thorns and a fragment 
 of the True Cross, paying a large sum of 
 money for them. That he might have a suit- 
 able house in which to enshrine such valuable 
 objects, he had built the Sainte Chappelle, that 
 beautiful chapel in Paris, so admired for its 
 
THE OLD CHURCH OF ST. GERMAIN. 
 
At a French Chateau 67 
 
 magnificent windows, by all lovers of the 
 beautiful. To these sacred relics was added 
 later the skull of St. Louis himself, in a golden 
 reliquary; and in this chapel they remained 
 until they were transferred to the Notre Dame 
 for greater safety. 
 
 There are other important names upon this 
 list besides that of Louis IX, and other inter- 
 esting objects in the church besides the 
 lists. Among the latter may be mentioned the 
 beautiful stained-glass windows, the fine altar, 
 the beautiful statue of Joan of Arc, and that 
 which is, perhaps, in the eyes of the church of 
 most importance, the tomb of the first Count 
 of Corbeil. 
 
 Having remained in the church as long as 
 we wished, we recovered the odorous fish and 
 went back to the station, though it was some 
 minutes before train time. This gave us 
 a good opportunity to watch the women 
 and children as they came straggling back, 
 weighted dow^n with butter, cheese, potatoes, 
 enormous cabbages, great joints of meat, etc. 
 I wondered that some of them were able to 
 bear their burdens; but all looked happy and 
 satisfied as they took w^ith us seats in the third- 
 
68 At a French Chateau 
 
 class coaches and were whizzed back to Evry- 
 Petit-Bourg. 
 
 The long string of cheerful burden bearers 
 was both novel and picturesque, as it trailed 
 away from the station of Evry-Petit-Bourg 
 along the shady roadway and over the long 
 bridge to Etiolles or Soisy-sous-Etiolles, each 
 link in the animated chain, no doubt, anticipat- 
 ing the feasting on the delectable food stuffs 
 bought at la marche de Corbeil. We were no 
 exceptions, and had our fish and cakes for 
 dinner. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 Barnurns Great Cinema 
 
 We were thrown into great excitement one 
 night at dinner when the blowing of a horn 
 and at the same time the ringing of the gate 
 bell heralded the information that something 
 of importance was about to take place. Ernest 
 went on the run and soon returned with a flyer, 
 announcing that the great success, " Barnum's 
 Cinema," had arrived in town and that a per- 
 formance would be given that evening, one 
 representation only. That being the case, we 
 could not afford to miss it, and we decided 
 then and there to go en masse. We went early 
 so as to get good seats, our Paris friends join- 
 ing us on the way. We entered the hall, which 
 was a very small one, its only furniture consist- 
 ing of two rows of long benches, perhaps six 
 or seven in a row. Having purchased our 
 tickets, we appropriated to our use the three 
 
70 At a French Chateau 
 
 benches farthest back on the left. These seats 
 were upholstered in black oilcloth, while 
 others had either no covering at all or one of a 
 very dirty and ragged coarse red-and-white 
 cotton. The bare benches certainly did not 
 have an inviting appearance, and the red and 
 white were impossible; so for the time and 
 place we felt that we had made a good choice. 
 As yet we were the only spectators, and we 
 now took time to examine the flimsy little slips 
 of paper that served as tickets. To our sur- 
 prise we found that some of our party had paid 
 one-half franc, some three-fourths of a franc, 
 some a franc, and Billie and I one franc and 
 a half each, the ticket-seller having added in 
 lead pencil the necessary figures to make our 
 little yellow slips of paper of sufficient value. 
 However, we were allowed to sit together on 
 the oil-cloth-covered seats, whatever the price 
 of our tickets ; and others, who came later, ap- 
 parently had the like privilege of choosing of 
 what was left, the latest comers sitting on the 
 floor and leaning up against the bare, blank 
 walls. I did not exactly understand their 
 system ; but it was evident that those traveling 
 show-people were not at all particular what 
 
Quel que soit le succiis, il n'y aura qu'une seule representation 
 
 '^^'rx"^ PATHE Freres 
 
 Spectacle de famille — 3 heures de projeclion - Un seul entr'acte - Toutes les 
 ^_ vues soiit ciairement expliquees par la Direction 
 
 Les derniers exploits de nos aviateurs -• 
 
 Beaumont, Vidart, Train, Henry Farman, Garros, Vedrines siir son 
 monoplan Deperdusin, moteur 100 HP 
 
 Les petits vagabonds 
 
 Dramatique 
 
 Criboullle au Sk^llng 
 
 La Viergs ie Bilylone 
 
 EN VACANGES, farces de gosses, cxirvconnque 
 
 DANSES COSMOPOLITES, S.perbe ue e„ c.uleurs 
 
 RESURRECTION | 
 
 ■ TOLS+OI - Dra 
 
 ran^aisc - Le prince Xeckliou.lol. 
 Katiuuciia - Le depart de Katiuucha 
 
 ' de Katinurha 
 
 LfV PfVSSION PE N.-5.-J -^. 
 
 Tontoiini fait le saut perilleux Foi-KirT" 
 
 PRIX DES PLACES TROISIpMES 0.50 - Secondes 0.75 - Premieres 1 fr - Rtservies i.jO 
 
 Enfants au-dessous de 10 ans. denii-place — En las de otcessil*, lu Direction se reserve le droit 
 
 d'interverlirou de inodilier leprasent programme — Aucun danger d'niceiidie. films imn/lammables 
 
 Spccltlilc dt profamtiio Thcatrei «t CiDcn 
 
 ONE REPRESENTATION ONLY. 
 
At a French Chateau 71 
 
 you paid or what seats you occupied. There 
 was one advanage, however, Billie and I had 
 the satisfaction of knowing that we held re- 
 served-seat tickets (there were none better), 
 though we sat one on each side of Madame R. 
 who had purchased a third class billet. The 
 tickets were not demanded and I still have 
 mine among my valued souvenirs. 
 
 Our early arrival at the show gave us an 
 excellent opportunity to watch the country 
 people come trooping in. They came by 
 families, and having finally deposited them- 
 selves, awaited with expectant faces, the begin- 
 ning of the great moving-picture show. There 
 were blowzed peasants, young and old, in their 
 coarse blue frocks and trousers, and clattering 
 wooden sabots ; fat, almost toothless and alto- 
 gether corsetless old women, in their loose 
 blouses, tied down by their coarse blue aprons ; 
 young women of generous figures, some of 
 them rather good-looking, with babes in arms ; 
 frowzy-headed little girls, with front locks 
 tightly braided, with perhaps a tiny, tiny bit of 
 narrow ribbon by way of ornament ; boys of all 
 shapes and sizes, in their short socks, black 
 cotton aprons, and wide-brimmed straw hats; 
 
72 At a French Chateau 
 
 and, last but not least, coquettish rusticity, rev- 
 elling in the companionship of her bel 
 amoureux, though in the eyes of the world he 
 must appear but an " unlettered hind." All 
 the men, except those of our party, sat with 
 their hats on, most of them vociferously puffing 
 their tobacco throughout the entire perform- 
 ance. That they do otherwise seemed not to 
 have been expected of them; and, as the 
 women wore no hats, no polite invitation that 
 they remove them was necessary. I have said 
 that all the men except those of our party wore 
 their hats during the performance, but that 
 statement is not strictly true. I was pleased to 
 see that our Ernest had not only dofifed his 
 apron but sat with head uncovered, thus show- 
 ing himself a little higher in the social scale 
 than the gens de la campagne. 
 
 While the people were gathering, the oper- 
 ator, a dark, fat, greasy-looking individual, 
 proudly marched up and down the aisles, smil- 
 ing blandly upon his audience, with the air of 
 one who is about to give them a great treat, 
 which he is confident, must meet with their un- 
 qualified approval. His very attitude pro- 
 claimed in unmistakable words, '^ I would do 
 
At a French Chateau 73 
 
 anything for you." Perhaps it was this 
 attitude that gave Billie the assurance neces- 
 sary to slip to the casement and swing it open, 
 thinking that a breath of pure air would be 
 quite agreeable and perhaps blow out a little 
 of the smoke. But, behold! a change now 
 comes o'er the man. With the intensest of ex- 
 citement he leaps to the spot, with a ^' No, no. 
 Monsieur! No, no. Monsieur!" and on the 
 instant everything is made fast again. The 
 windows must not be open, for there are rogues 
 and rascals outside who might look in and get 
 the show for nothing. 
 
 As for the show, well, it was quite like those 
 given in America, no better, not much worse. 
 There were the ascension of aviators, cosmo- 
 politan dances. Biblical representations, elope- 
 ments of fond lovers, with tyrannical parents, 
 and the mischievous city kids, who go to 
 grandfather's farm to give their parents a rest, 
 spill the ink on the parlor carpet, steal the jam, 
 overturn milk pans, make bonfires of the hay- 
 stacks, and let out all the live stock. 
 
 The operator seemed to think that the pic- 
 tures needed a great deal of explication and 
 kept up a flow of talk very amusing, both to 
 
74 At a French Chateau 
 
 those who understood and to those who partly 
 understood. More than that he gave his opin- 
 ion of what was being enacted before the eyes, 
 and made jocular remarks concerning the 
 deeds done on the screen, especially when they 
 chanced to be all about love and the bel 
 amoureux, all of which were highly appre- 
 ciated by the audience. In fact, it was as re- 
 sponsive an audience as one often sees. Like 
 Sir Roger de Coverly, they took the situations 
 seriously and applauded where they approved, 
 and talked over the scenes presented as though 
 they were a part of real life. In fact all 
 through the performance they discoursed with 
 each other audibly. 
 
 One novel feature was an intermission of ten 
 or fifteen minutes when the performance was 
 about half accomplished. At this time a man 
 smoking a cigarette passed through the hall 
 selling little favors done up in twisted papers 
 and loudly bawling out an urgent invitation 
 for people to buy. It was then that I noticed 
 for the first time our blanchisseuse in clean 
 blouse and apron, looking radiantly happy. 
 Then, too, that there might be no cessation 
 of entertainment, a ruddy-faced old rustic, 
 
At a French Chateau 75 
 
 in clumsy wooden shoes, took it upon him- 
 self to get merry and jump over one of the 
 benches. A roar of laughter rewarded the 
 old chap for his pains. The Chateau party 
 ate French lemon drops and peppermints 
 from paper bags, and breathed deeply of the 
 fresh air that was then entering, for during 
 the recess there was no objection to open doors 
 and windows. 
 
 The show lasted something over two 
 hours. Even the franc-and-a-half people had 
 had their money's worth. Disregarding the 
 Cinema, the real enjoyment had come from 
 seeing the peasant class at a show. That was 
 a novel experience and worth the price. As I 
 went out the door, the ticket-seller said to me, 
 ** C^est bon^ n'est-ce pas, Madame? '' 
 And I answered, " Oui, Madame, ires 
 amusant/^ using the same phrase that Madem- 
 oiselle L. had used in speaking of Billie. 
 This seemed to give such entire satisfaction 
 that I couldn't help feeling quite a bit of pride 
 in my proficiency in the French tongue. 
 
 Outside we found the whole village silent 
 and asleep, wrapped in opaque night. The 
 streets are not lighted in Soisy-sous-Etiolles. 
 
76 At a French Chateau 
 
 Not even the '^ long, levelled rule of stream- 
 ing light " from " some clay habitation " v^as 
 visible, for here the people use their lamps 
 only when absolutely necessary. Too, it was 
 raining, and the paved streets slippery. How 
 Monsieur J. ever guided us back to the 
 Chateau is a mystery, but in due time we 
 arrived safe and sound. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 Day Dreams 
 
 The time was drawing near when I must 
 leave the delightful old Chateau. I sat one 
 morning in a secluded spot in the park on one 
 of the old Pompadour stone benches. Over- 
 head arched a tall graceful tree, a chapel, as 
 it were, to one of God's great cathedrals, the 
 drowsy, shadowed, silent park. Behind me 
 was the ivy-mantled stone wall, like a high 
 screen of the most perfect tracery. A dreamy 
 place, indeed; and I so far gave myself up 
 to its subtle influence as to muse upon the 
 evidences all about of a former life now 
 passed from mortal ken. How much of it had 
 been real and lasting, the work of God ; and 
 how much of it false and fleeting, the vain 
 imagination of mortal man? 
 
 I had just come from the one-time stable, 
 with its two quaint stalls, above which are the 
 
 77 
 
78 At a French Chateau 
 
 names Romeo and Brillant, incased in small 
 wooden frames. " Two pet steeds of the long 
 ago, perhaps," I muse; and, letting fancy 
 have its free course, I behold two splendid 
 bays, with arched necks, straight supple limbs, 
 flowing manes and tails, fiery eyes. Richly 
 caparisoned are they and mounted by le 
 seigneur et la dame of other days. Gaily 
 prancing, they make the tour of the Chateau 
 park, emerging through the arch by the duck 
 pond into the court. Then they dart through 
 the iron gateway, swung open by the liveried 
 porter, and take the road toward the Forest 
 of Senart, there perhaps to give their riders a 
 chance to admire the brilliant Madame Pom- 
 padour in her fairy phaeton, or to get a fleet- 
 ing glimpse of the royal sportsman and his 
 train. 
 
 Is the rider the tall man of the great paint- 
 ing in heavy frame, which hangs in the petit 
 salon, who stands as he has stood for many 
 years, with hat and cane in hand, tall and 
 straight, and grave? It would be difficult, in- 
 deed, to imagine that stiff, dignified individual 
 as gaily cantering through field and forest (his 
 protrait represents him as too unbending for 
 
o 
 
 o 
 
 pi 
 O 
 
 H 
 
 ft 
 O 
 
At a French Chateau 79 
 
 that). Rather must our Seigneur of the pic- 
 ture tread the ways of his own beautiful park 
 with slow, measured pace, standing for one 
 brief moment to watch the gold fish in spark- 
 ling fountain, but with gray unsmiling eyes, 
 himself a shadow then as he is now. Is his 
 name upon the tablet just inside the door? If 
 so, which one is it? Or is his name missing on 
 the slate, and he, perhaps, the refugee, whose 
 name is lost and treasure hid? Or was the 
 man of the portrait of older family, farther re- 
 moved, perhaps one hundred years prior to the 
 Revolution, who had lived and loved and 
 passed on far anterior to the memory of the 
 man who fled the fury of the Revolution days? 
 And what of his companion? Does either 
 of the fine portraits in the grand salon, the one 
 of the dark lady or the one of the fair, in long 
 straight bodice and fine laces, bear a re- 
 semblance to her? Whose fingers fashioned 
 the queer picture hanging on the opposite side 
 of the room, a large bouquet of flowers, made 
 apparently of long paper beads set on end in 
 some glutinous substance, after the manner of 
 a mosaic? And what about the old hob-nailed 
 chest, that rests at the top of the first flight of 
 
8o At a French Chateau 
 
 stairs, the trunk that I pass every time I go to 
 or from my room, once used as a linen chest 
 and bearing the initials, H. H. M. E. B.? 
 Whose deft fingers neatly stitched the meters 
 and meters of fine linen to fashion the gar- 
 ments that were once considered so necessary 
 a part of ma demoiselle's trousseau? 
 
 And what about the little dog whose master 
 placed a tablet in the park to perpetuate his 
 memory, and asks the passerby to pause and 
 behold the place where his pet sleeps. '^ Ce 
 n'etait qu' un chien blanc '' (It was only a little 
 white dog) he tells us, but he knows not where 
 another such can be found, so brave, affec- 
 tionate and good. And the great cedar, over- 
 shadowing its resting place, a cedar of 
 Lebanon, brought by the great French 
 botanist. Monsieur de Jussieu, cradled in a hat 
 as an infant many years ago, from far off 
 Palestine. This one-time infant is now an 
 aged man, but still blessing the earth with his 
 shade and supporting on a strong arm la 
 halanqoire for Rene and Eric as he no doubt 
 did for the Chateau children of other days. 
 
 The old stone basins, many in number, of the 
 one-time magnificent fountains! Will their 
 
At a French Chateau 8i 
 
 stagnant waters erelong be supplanted by the 
 bright and sparkling? Will their fountains 
 once again spurt up toward heaven, to fall in 
 diamond drops on scores of glittering gold fish, 
 that dart to and fro in the font? 
 
 Why not? Love is there and love restores. 
 Already a marvelous work has been done to- 
 wards cleansing and beautifying the Chateau 
 grounds, so sadly run down for want of care. 
 We can confidently assert that never again will 
 the place witness the pomp and splendor of its 
 ancient pride; but what of that, if the beauty 
 of holiness shall there rest, it is far better. 
 
 Like Washington Irving, in the Shake- 
 speare land, we have '^ been surrounded with 
 fancied beings, with mere airy nothings," con- 
 jured up by drowsy place and drowsy time. 
 But awake we now, and henceforth 
 
 We cease to look behind and look before. 
 With hope and faith, the faith that maketh 
 
 whole; 
 The Chateau's better days are at the door, 
 Vive le Chateau de Soisy under Etiolles! 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 The Departure 
 
 It was with genuine regret that I left the 
 Chateau. I had there spent ideal hours far 
 from the herd of sight-seers that throng the 
 city ways. I had been free to roam among 
 rural haunts, taking my own time, following 
 my own bent, experiencing the joy of mere 
 living and keeping holiday in peace. I had 
 found the old town charmingly picturesque, a 
 fair type of the little French village. Mon- 
 sieur and Madame had been most kind and 
 had taken much pains to make my stay a happy 
 one. I had become fond of the people — 
 French, Swiss, Scotch, English, and American. 
 I had met those that are worth while. I had 
 come to love the children. I had seen things 
 to me new and interesting. Incidentally I had 
 acquired an addition to my French vocabulary. 
 Moreover, the annual fete was about to take 
 
 82 
 
 \ 
 
I 
 
At a French Chateau 83 
 
 place, the first preparation of which was the 
 setting up of a merry-go-round. Vans dotted 
 the country roads all around on the way to con- 
 tribute their part toward the great occasion. 
 Soon everybody would be out for a good time 
 and a holiday. 
 
 I must miss the fete, but I had already 
 gained much. Best of all I had gained that for 
 which I had come, something of a knowledge 
 of peasant life, and an intimate acquaintance 
 with the ideal French home. In addition, I 
 had become somewhat acquainted with the 
 Parisian French and admired them. 
 
 " You cannot know French people by visit- 
 ing Paris in summer," said Monsieur W. " In 
 fact, there are no Parisians in the city during 
 the hot weather; they have gone into the 
 country. Then Paris is given up for the season 
 to hotel keepers, shop keepers, and tourists; 
 and the commercial spirit is dominant. You 
 cannot see Paris in summer.'^ 
 
 I could readily believe this. The dark, 
 black-eyed, portly proprietor of my hotel in 
 Paris, a short time before, had been most 
 polite to me, even obsequious in his attentive- 
 ness to my wants ; but when I came to settle my 
 
84 At a French Chateau 
 
 bill, I learned a characteristic trick of the 
 trade. When I had looked over my bill of 
 one hundred and forty-five francs, I dis- 
 covered that he had made one charge twice. 
 When I called his attention to it, he drew his 
 pencil through the item with a careless " so," 
 as if it were almost too trivial a matter to speak 
 of, though he was charging me five francs too 
 much. It was the custom he told me for his 
 guests to pay their tips through the ofiice, one- 
 tenth of the bill. I acquiesced; it would be 
 much less trouble. 
 
 He reckoned it up, fourteen francs. ^' Call 
 it fifteen," he said, " that will be quite all 
 right," with the air of one who is generously 
 throwing off instead of adding an extra franc. 
 
 There was an illustration of the commercial 
 spirit, which Monsieur W. had mentioned. 
 Surely there could be no greater contrast than 
 that between my hotel proprietor and our 
 Paris friends who were spending the summer 
 at Soisy-sous-Etiolles. A small party of us 
 from the Chateau had one day been up to 
 Etiolles. On returning we went past the 
 home of the L. family. The young madem- 
 oiselle's greetings to us from an upper window 
 
S^^^vviT^^^ 
 
 
 KINDLY WISHED US AU REVOIR. 
 
At a French Chateau 85 
 
 brought Madame to the doorway. Thereupon 
 there was nothing to do but that we should 
 come in to rest. Up a few steps to a landing- 
 place, then down again as many, and we found 
 ourselves in a trim garden. There under the 
 shelter of un berceau de verdure (arbor) we 
 must have refreshments (it was then time for 
 afternoon tea) ; and then no blossom in the 
 garden was too choice to be plucked to make 
 up the generous bouquets for us to take home. 
 
 On the day of my departure two American 
 friends, Mr. F. and Mrs. W., traveling com- 
 panions earlier in the season, came out from 
 Paris to call. I was to go with them back 
 to the great city for a short stay, and thence to 
 Belgium and England for some automobile 
 trips among the out-of-the-way places as far 
 as possible from the beaten path. Yes, we 
 were soon to leave the land of les poulets et les 
 salades, for the land of many tea rooms and 
 good Lipton tea. And — after that — America. 
 
 I took my last look around with my friends. 
 Together we roamed the shadowy alleys of 
 the park, seeking out the familiar haunts : the 
 steedless stalls, the aviary, the lavoir, the 
 kiosque, the balangoire du cedre, the duck 
 
86 At a French Chateau 
 
 pond, and the garden with its smell of plants 
 and trees. While we were doing so, that the 
 review might be complete, a biplane skimmed 
 the air above the Chateau park as it had done 
 almost every day during my stay. 
 
 Then Madame W. joined us at tea in the 
 salle a manger (we had come in too late to 
 take our refection with the others). How I 
 should miss the social meal, of which Mon- 
 sieur was the autocrat, and where Madame 
 presided so charmingly, with the quiet dignity 
 characteristic of one ^" to the manner born." I 
 had liked to hear her gentle and musical la, 
 la! That is always heard in France, but it 
 never to me sounded the same from other lips. 
 
 " There is the great treasure chimney, of 
 which I told you, if indeed the treasure is 
 there," I said to my friends, pointing at the 
 same time to the great fireplace. 
 
 " It looks innocent enough," Mr. F. an- 
 swered ; " but, then, you can't always tell by 
 the face of a thing what is behind the face." 
 
 " You are right," I said, " but the chimney 
 is not the only thing about here that refuses to 
 be communicative. The queer little houses 
 that line the walls are not telling us all that 
 
QUITE AT HOME. 
 
At a French Chateau 87 
 
 they know. Indeed, some of them are now 
 little more than gray, sombre sentinels in stone, 
 guarding the mystery of their past with jealous 
 care." 
 
 Tea over, we went out on the perron to wait 
 for the bus that should take us to the station 
 of Evry-Petit-Bourg. Madame W. went with 
 us, and there kindly wished us '' au revoir/' 
 and a '' bon voyage " to the homeland. 
 
 But where, you ask, was Billie. O, no, he 
 was not lost; he simply wanted to stay a few 
 weeks longer at the Chateau. He would ar- 
 range for a later sailing and, without fail, be 
 back in America in time to enter school. 
 About the last I saw of him he was hanging 
 over the balancoire, limb of the old cedar, 
 hectoring Mademoiselle Marjorie (who sat in 
 the swing below) with a long dry twig. He 
 had come to feel quite at home.