We are, in fact, the travelling post-office. How laborious
the life of the peasant-farmer is here, we may judge from the hard work
being done by the women and girls. In some cases, they guide the team
whilst the man behind holds the plough, in others they are digging up
potatoes, or gathering in their little crop of maize. All the women seem
to be out of doors and sunburnt, toil-worn looking creatures they are,
though they wear an expression of contentment, or rather resignation.
The potato crop, on which these rural populations so largely depend for
winter food, is fortunately good and abundant, and little else but
potato and maize seem to be grown here. The villages we pass through
have a dirty and neglected appearance; but beggars are nowhere
encountered, and, at the entrance of each, we see the inscription,
"Mendicity is forbidden in the Department of the Jura."
CHAPTER XII.
NANTUA AND THE CHURCH OF BRON.
It was evening when we reached the little railway-station of La Cluse,
and exquisite indeed was the twilight drive to Nantua. The crimson
glories of sunset were still flaming in the west, and reflected in the
limpid lake, whilst a silvery crescent moon rose slowly above the dark
purple mountains framing in the picture.
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