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up their names, when they announce their business to be begging pour l'amour de Dieu. This is a very usual custom in Paris, and would be more honoured in the breach than the observance! However, they obtain their end malgré

vous.

CHAPTER VI.

St. Loup.-St. Quentin.-Curiosity.-Mineral Waters.Walks. Sand Carts.-La Luzerne.-Abbaye.

LTHOUGH Avranches itself is destitute of antiquities, there is enough to be found in its

vicinity to interest the most zealous antiquary, and so beautiful and varied are the

walks and drives round, that every day some new object of attraction may be sought, and all trouble repaid by the pleasure of seeking it. One of the prettiest walks is to the secluded village of St. Loup, really clean and neat, and unlike most of those to be met with in France. It is very small, consisting only of a few houses surrounding a raised churchyard; the gardens are nicely kept, and the people civil, without being inquisitive or intrusive. Here there is no noise, no confusion, all is solitary, quiet, and uninterrupted. A magnificent fir-tree flourishes near the steps of what was once a carved stone cross,

and an antique ivied gateway, on the opposite side of the road, exhibits the last remains of a religious house, which, doubtless, once concealed itself in so appropriate a spot. The architecture of the church is early Norman: one of the doors is slightly ornamented with chevron work, the other is plain, but the circular arches of both are supported by pillars, whose capitals are sculptured heads: the same ornament is repeated along the corbel table, under the cornice of the exterior. These heads are all tolerably clear, and some of them extremely sharp; the

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ST. QUENTIN.

windows are of the early pointed or transition style. On the whole this pretty church is a valuable specimen, and it is to be regretted that Mr. Gally Knight, who visited every nook and corner that he could find during his delightful tour, should have missed seeing St. Loup, when he passed by Avranches. He would almost as much deplore not having sought out another church, at a village rather farther off, called St. Quentin, the walks to which are equally pleasant, whether it is approached by the intricate lanes, which may be followed for miles, and lead to a variety of secluded hamlets, or by the more open high road, which conducts to the magnificent Bois de Quenouailles. The village of St. Quentin itself is, however, so slovenly and dirty, that, but for the distant attraction of the fine square Norman tower, which lures the amateur to mount its tedious hill, few would venture to wade through the litter of the only street, at the end of which, and surrounded by squalid cottages, stands this interesting structure. Even in the midst of sights and smells revolting, the beauty of the Norman girls shone out, and we observed one dressing at a hovel window to accompany her impatient and handsome swain below, whose clear skin and bright eyes seemed singularly out of place in such a

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den. The church was locked up, and we grieved to hear the reason. Several robberies having taken place, the curé was obliged to take this precaution. We regretted his absence, for we had been told that he was a zealous antiquary of eighty, very intelligent, and particularly attached to the English, having shared their hospitality during a long emigration. The antique porch is supported by graduated buttresses, and has a parapet running along the top of the wall: the exterior door, early pointed, is plainer than the interior, which is circular and ornamented, though not elaborately, and the pillars and groinings of the roof of the porch are very delicate. The same corbel table, with similar heads to that of St. Loup, decorates the cornice.

Nothing can be finer than the view from the hill of Quenouailles, near which once stood a fine château, destroyed in the revolution. Fatigued with our extended, though interesting walk, we sat for some time admiring its variety and richness; and here we were accosted by a peasant woman, whose route lay our way, and who furnished us with one proof, out of many, that inquisitiveness and a certain established familiarity is quite as peculiar to the French as to the Americans. Having satisfied, in the way that most suited us, her numerous questions as

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