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 184 EARLY REMINISCENCES infrequently, we had the cure to dine with us. He took it very well that we did not go to church, for the owner of the chateau and his family, like most of the French of the upper class, though nominally Roman Catholics were very neglectful of church attendance. When we were in the Valley of Argelez, or rather, in the chateau on the mountain-side opposite to the town, we were not far from Lourdes, a quaint old place that was one of the last holding out for the English. No one at that time thought of staying a night in such an insignificant, evil-smelling town. Of late years it has been totally transformed, is full of good hotels, and is thronged by pilgrims from all parts of France, even from England, for we have imbeciles here as well as France, and mirabile dictu from the United States of America, the very home of reasonableness ; but, I hold, these are Irish. The transformation is due to a silly story, which is very fairly told by Zola in his book on Lourdes, in which his graphic power rises to the highest altitude. The work affords a lamentable picture of the way in which the Roman Church murders common sense. I shall not repeat the story here, as I have told it in my Book of the Pyrenees. It is not so scandalous as that of La Salette, but Is not free from the record of ecclesiastical dishonesty. The Chateau d'Areit had a fine terrace with orange trees, commanding an extensive view, and looked straight up the Val d'Azun. I have already said that it appears to me that little children take no notice of what is distant. Later, in the ensuing year, I tried in vain to draw my little brother's attention when we were at Bayonne to the Pyrenean range. He either did not see it or it did not impress him. But now that I was sixteen years old, my heart swelled almost to bursting, as I looked up the Val d'Azun to the snowy peaks beyond. We—that is to say my father and myself, were invited to dine, or rather to a great ddjeuner, at our landlord's in the town of Argelez. As we were on the way to the house, my father said gravely to me : " You must be prepared. These French meals are trying, so many dishes, and it gives offence if you do not partake of every one. I hope you are not tightly buttoned. I have slackened the buckle of my waistcoat. But be prepared,"