hills.  Winding up through the trees, we passed a tricyclist pushing his machine before him, who informed us that we were on the way to Gan.  Of this, after we had ridden up and down, wound round hillsides and passed through pleasant dingles, we were at length assured by descending into that village, from which we got safely home in spite of a “bolting” attempt on the part of one of the “fiery” steeds.

To thoroughly enjoy the longer drive to Pietat it is better to make a picnic of it.  We started about ten one lovely morning, turning to the left beyond Jurancon, crossing the line to Oloron—­on the main road—­and later on, bearing more round in the same direction, and beginning to ascend.  As on the hills to Gan, we were perpetually mounting only to descend a great part of the distance again, but ever and anon catching glimpses of the valley in which Assat and Nay lay, and of Pau itself, besides the lovely snow hills stretching as far as eye could reach.  When Pietat was arrived at, there was but little to interest us in what we saw there of a half-finished church and two cottages; but the view on all sides after we had walked along the grassy plateau was very lovely, especially as the lights and shades were everywhere so perfect.  Having selected a cosy spot and spread the luncheon, we were besieged by children anxious to sell us flowers and apples, and to share whatever we would give them.  They were hard to get rid of even with promises of something when we had finished, and when at last they did go, an elderly female took their place with most generous offers of unlocking the church for us.  There was an old sweet-toned bell in front of the western door, and a half-finished sculpture of the “Descent from the Cross” over it.  The interior of the edifice was sufficiently roofed for a portion to be utilised for prayer, and the high altar and two lateral ones were already erected.

After culling a quantity of the beautiful feather moss from the hedgerows, we re-entered the carriage, and descended the hill into the Gave valley, crossing the suspension-bridge by Assat, and through the village into the main road, and home by Bizanos.  It was the time of the carnival, and on the following day Bizanos—­which has an evil repute for bad egg-throwing on festive occasions—­was to be the scene of the mumming.  Luckily they did not attempt to practise on us, though as we drove up through the town we met bands of gaily-dressed individuals parading the streets.

These bands consisted of about thirty, mostly men decked in a preponderance of red, white, and blue, and usually accompanied by a tableau arrangement on a cart.  Every twenty yards they stopped, went through a series of antics, supposed to be country dances, to the tune of the cornet and a fiddle, and then brought round the hat, frequently embracing any woman who objected to give her sous.

A carnival such as this combines a holiday with money-making to the mummers, and as long as they can get money in this fashion, they certainly cannot be blamed for taking their amusement in such a highly practical manner.