Brittany, Mortimer Menpes and Dorothy Menpes, Illustrated by Mortimer Menpes : by Mortimer Menpes

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Brittany,  by  Mortimer Menpes and Dorothy Menpes, Illustrated by Mortimer Menpes : by Mortimer Menpes

Brittany, by Mortimer Menpes and Dorothy Menpes, Illustrated by Mortimer Menpes : by Mortimer Menpes
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1. DOUARNÉNEZThe gray and somewhat uninteresting village of Douarnénez undergoes a change when the fishing-boats come home. Even with your eyes shut, you would soon know of the advent of the fishermen by the downward clatter of myriads of sabotsMore1. DOUARNÉNEZThe gray and somewhat uninteresting village of Douarnénez undergoes a change when the fishing-boats come home. Even with your eyes shut, you would soon know of the advent of the fishermen by the downward clatter of myriads of sabots through the badly-paved steep streets, gathering in volume and rapidity with each succeeding minute.

The village has been thoroughly wakened up. Douarnénez is the headquarters of the sardine fishery, and the home-coming of the sardine boats is a matter of no little importance. The 9,000 inhabitants of the place are all given up to this industry. Prosperity, or adversity, depends upon the faithfulness, or the fickleness, of the little silver fish in visiting their shores. Not long ago the sardines forsook Douarnénez, and great was the desolation and despair which settled upon the people. However, the season this year is good, and the people are prosperous.As one descends the tortuous street leading to the sea, when the tide is in, everything and everyone you encounter seem to be in one way or another connected with sardines.

The white-faced houses are festooned and hung with fine filmy fishing-nets of a pale cornflower hue, edged with rows of deep russet-brown corks. Occasionally they are stretched from house to house across the street, and one passes beneath triumphal arches of really glorious gray-blue fishing-nets. This same little street, which barely an hour ago was practically empty and deserted, now swarms with big bronzed fishermen coming up straight from the sea, laden with their dripping cargo of round brown baskets half filled with glistening fish.

They live differently from the sleepy villagers—these strapping giants of the sea, with their deep-toned faces, their hair made tawny by exposure, their blue eyes, which somehow or other seem so very blue against the dark red-brown of their complexion, their reckless, rollicking, yet graceful, sailors gait. A sailor always reminds me of a cat amongst a roomful of crockery: he looks as if he will knock over something or trip over something every moment as he swings along in his careless fashion- yet he never does.CONTENTS1.

Douarnénez2. Rochefort-en-Terre3. Vitré4. Vannes5. Quimper6. St. Brieuc7. Paimpol8. Guingamp9. Huelgoat10. Concarneau11. Morlaix12. Pont-Aven13. Quimperlé14. Auray15. Belle Isle16. St. Anne dAuray17. St. Malo18. Mont St. Michel19. Château des Rochers20. Carnac21. A Romantic LandLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS1. Marie JeanneFACING PAGE2. Homeward Bound3. Grandmère4. Meditation5. Minding the Babies6. A Cottage in Rochefort-en-Terre7. At Rochefort-en-Terre8. Mid-day Rest9. A Cottage Home10. Mediæval Houses, Vitré11. Preparing the Mid-day Meal12. In Church13. Père Louis14. Idle Hours15. La Vieille Mère Perot16. A Vieillard17. Place Henri Quatre, Vannes18. Gossips19. A Cattle Market20. Bread Stalls21. In a Breton Kitchen22. A Rainy Day at the Fair23. In the Porch of the Cathedral, Quimper24. The Vegetable Market, Quimper25. Outside the Cathedral, Quimper26. By the Side of a Farm27. On the Road to Bannalec28. Débit de Boissons29. Church of St.

Mody30. Reflections31. A Sabot-Stall32.



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