Page:Early Reminiscences.djvu/164

124 put in execution an art, now wholly lost in England, though I can recall when it was in common practice, and our coachman, Pengelly, was an adept at it—I refer to that perished art of blowing the nose with the fingers.

My father was much concerned. "Why was I not told?" said he. "Gladly would we have waited till all was over." And he pressed a louis d'or into the man's palm, who made a long-drawn sniff, reared himself, and saluted with an expression of complete reconciliation.

In those days the women, especially in festal costume, were vastly picturesque, but even on ordinary days they were careful to be well coiffées. And the coifs were marvellous, some even adorned with gold or silver lace. More about this presently. At Montaigu in the Bocage of La Vendée, my father chanced on a young woman running towards the River Maine. On inquiring the cause of her haste, she said that she was going to terminate her misery. She had been deserted by her cher ami, and was resolved on drowning herself.

"But surely," said my father, "you will not ruin that delicious head-dress you have on. Go home, take it off, then, jump into the river, et finissez."

"Vous avez raison, Monsieur ! Ce sera grand dommage."

I believe that he slipped a five-franc piece into her hand. She went home and did not remove her head-gear. We saw her standing, well coiffée next morning, with a roguish twinkle in her eyes, as we started from the inn-door and drove away.

My father was in a poor temper that forenoon, and very silent.

In La Vendée we saw men with bare legs wading in the shallow channels that intersect the low marshy fields. After a moment of immersion out was flung one leg and then another, to each of which clung several leeches. It seems that the collection of these creatures is a speciality in these parts. But it drains the men of much blood, though the leech is wiped off before it has sucked as much as it would like. The women do not go in after them; and they are more rubicund, and indeed more lively. Leech catching is not conducive to hilarity.

"Avez vous des sangsues en votre pays, Monsieur?" asked one of the leech-catchers as he swept the blood-suckers from his calf.