of two diminutive youngsters, whose faces were dimpled with smiles wherever the fat would allow.  Keeping along the right wall in the direction of the pig-sties (O! shades of the Black Prince!!!) we were greeted with the musical tones of the “porkers” and many sweet odours.  Having entered one of the prisons at the base of the tower for a moment, we next followed the ever-winding steps till fairly giddy, and reached the top.  Thence the view was exceedingly fine.  We seemed to be at the meeting-point of four valleys, and the snow peaks in the direction of Argeles were free from clouds.  The whole of Lourdes lay like a map beneath; the church with the “Calvary” on the hill over against it, the river sparkling in the sunlight, the Pic de Jer with its brown sides, and the winding roads with the green fields and budding trees, joining to make a pleasant picture.

Descending again to the hotel, we partook of a capital lunch, of which the “pie de mars,” or ringed ousel—­a bird of migratory habits, little known in our isles (except in a few parts of Scotland), but considered a great delicacy here—­formed a part.  After this, Miss Blunt once again devoted herself to the Pyrenean puppy, till the carriage came round and we took our departure.

CHAPTER IV

ARGELES.

Road v.  Rail—­Scenes, sublime and ridiculous—­Hotel d’Angleterre—­ Questions and “The Argeles Shepherd’s Reply”—­A forbidden path—­The ride to Ges, Serres, Salluz, and Ourous—­Argeles church—­Route Thermale—­Ges—­The tree in the path—­“A regular fix”—­Serres—­” It’s a stupid foal that doesn’t know its own mother “—­A frothing stream—­A fine view—­Pigs in clover—­Salluz—­Ourous—­Contented villagers—­The high road—­The bridge on the Pierrefitte road—­ Advice to sketchers—­“Spring’s Bitters and Sweets”—­The “witch of the hills”—­Large green lizards—­“Jeannette’s Lamb”—­Round the Argeles valley—­Chateau de Beaucens—­Villelongue—­Soulom—­The old church—­Hotel de la Poste, Pierrefitte—­St. Savin—­The verger and the ancient church—­Cagots—­“The Organ’s Tale”—­St. Savin’s tomb—­ The Chateau de Miramont—­Jugged izard—­Market-day—­Sour bread and the remedy—­Arrival of the first parcel.

Although the railway line takes very nearly the same route as the carriage road, the drive is decidedly preferable, and when it can be undertaken for ten francs—­as in our case—­there is little to choose between the modes of conveyance on the score of cheapness, especially as a landau can carry a very fair quantity of luggage.  We considered ourselves amply repaid for our choice as we wound underneath the rocky crags and by the side of the river, anon ascending the curve of a small hill with the fresh fields below, a little church or ivied ruin standing out on the mountain-side, and high above all, the snowy summits so majestic and so intensely white.  There was occasionally a ridiculous side to the picture too, when we put a flock of sheep in