Caw, caw! by-the-bye, there was old Coffite[1]
And Jean de Bourbon, that fought so well;
And ’tis said that the prince underwent defeat—­
At least my mother this tale would tell.

Caw, caw! they’ve finished with siege and fight;
The castle’s too old for that, of course;
They go in for piety on the right,[2]
And we caw away till our voice grows hoarse.

Caw, caw!  I’m a Catholic right sincere,
But somehow or other I cannot see
Why they put up the Virgin’s statue[3] here—­
The place is as wrong as a place could be.

Caw, caw!  I must see how my youngsters look
In their quiet nursery ’mid the stones;
Next week they’ll be able “to take their hook,"[4]
And—­but there they go with their squeaking tones.

Caw, caw! cried the jackdaw, the world is vain,
But I love to dwell in my ancient tower. 
Caw, caw!—­why the wretches want feeding again,
They’ve a “diet of worms” nearly every hour. 
And he cawed as he flew to the nursery bower.

[Footnote 1:  It is said that Jean de Bourbon, Comte de Clermont, and Auger Coffite of Luz, took this castle in 1404.]

[Footnote 2:  The author does not hold himself responsible for the jackdaw’s slang, which refers to the statue.]

[Footnote 3:  This statue is in honour of “Notre Dame de Lourdes.”]

[Footnote 4:  Again the jackdaw indulges in slang!]

Leaving the jackdaw to pursue his paternal duties, we descended again to the town, and sheltered awhile from a shower under the balcony of the new and gaudy-looking bathing establishment, that stands in the outskirts, towards St. Sauveur.  These baths, which are only opened during the summer, are supplied with water from Bareges, whither we were only waiting for a fine day to make an excursion.  But fine days just then were rather hard to find, so we contented ourselves with one that did not look very ominous, and taking a good lunch with us, started in a landau and four at ten o’clock.

[Illustration:  THE CASTLE OF STE. MARIE.]

The road after leaving Luz follows the course of the Gave de Bastan, skirting in turn the base of the Montaigu [Footnote:  Not to be in any way confounded with the Montaigu near Bigorre.  The French mountain vocabulary is so defective, they often call several heights by the same name.] and that of the Pic d’Ayre, and, passing through the villages of Esterre (2 miles), Viella (2-1/4 miles), and Betpouey (3-1/2 miles), winds in steep zigzags up to Bareges (4064 ft.).

This valley, after what we had seen, did not give us much pleasure; its appearance on the whole being sterile, though after leaving Luz as far as Esterre, the brightness of the fields and trees, and the splashing of the water overflowing the miniature mill conduits, made a pleasant landscape.

The actual distance from Luz to Bareges is barely four miles, and yet so great is the height of the latter (1600 ft. above Luz) that it was nearly one o’clock when we pulled up at the Cercle des Etrangers—­the only specimen of a hotel or cafe open—­for our lunch.