Dearest Mamma,—Oh, we had such fun yesterday! After Mass the Baronne sent over to ask if Jean, Héloise, and I would go with them to the Foire at Lavonnière, a village about ten miles off. It is a very celebrated Foire, and in the last century every one went from Versailles, and even now lots of people who spend the summer there attend. You go in the evening after dinner, and there are no horrid cows and things with horns rushing about, or tipsy people. Godmamma looked awfully severe when she heard of the invitation; but since the row, when they had to cajole me, she has been more civil, so she said I might go if Héloise would really look after me, although if I was Victorine she would not have permitted it for a moment.
On a Motor Car
We left here about six, and then picked up the party at Tournelle. They all went—the old Baron, and every one, except the Marquis's mother. We dropped the brougham there, and went on with them in a huge motor car (that is another fad of the Baron's). It is lovely motor-carring; you get quite used to the noise and smell, and you fly along so, it takes your breath away; even with your hat tied on with a big veil, you have rather the feeling you have got to screw up your eyebrows to keep it from blowing away. We seemed to be no time doing the ten miles. The Baronne and Héloise hate it, and never go in it except under protest. The Foire is just one very long street, with booths and merry-go-rounds, and Montagnes Russes, and all sorts of amusing things down each side. There are rows of poplar trees behind them, and evidently on ordinary occasions it is just the usual French road, but with all the lights and people it was gay.
We stopped at the village inn, the "Toison d'Or" which is famous for its restaurant and its landlady. In the season the Duc de Cressy's coach comes here from Paris every Thursday. Hippolyte was there already; he had been sent on to secure a table for us. We had no sooner sat down under the awning than the Vicomte and "Antoine" and two other officers turned up. They had ridden from Versailles, which is near. Such extraordinary people sat at some of the tables! Families of almost peasants at one, and then at the next perhaps two or three lovely ladies, with very smart dresses and big hats, and lots of pearls, and some young men in evening dress. And then some respectable bourgeois, and so on. I could hardly pay attention to what the Marquis, who sat next me, was saying, the sight was so new and entertaining.
The tables had cloths without any starch in them, and the longest bread rolls I have ever seen. One of the beautiful ladies with the pearls used hers to beat the man next to her before they had finished dinner. We did not have fresh forks and knives for everything, but the famous dish of the place made up for it. It is composed of poussins—that is, very baby chickens—raw oysters, and cream and truffles. You get a hot bit of chicken into your mouth and think it is all right, and then your tongue comes against an iced oyster, and the mixture is so exciting you are stimulated all the time; and you drink a very fine old Burgundy with it, which is also a feature of the place. I am sure it ought to poison us, as oysters aren't in for another month, but it is awfully good.
Chevaux au Galop
One of the strange officers is so amusing; he looks exactly like the young man the Marquise de Vermandoise was walking in the Bois with, but it could not be he, as she seemed so surprised to see him at the Foire, and said they had not met for ages. The Comte sat on my other side; he said I would be greatly amused at the booths presently, and was I afraid of Montagnes Russes? That is only an ordinary switchback, Mamma, so of course I am not afraid. There were Tziganes playing while we dined, and it was all more amusing than anything I have done here yet. When we had drunk our coffee we started down the Foire. There were hundreds of people of every class, but not one drunk or rude or horrid.
The first entertainment was the Chevaux au Galop, a delightful merry-go-round with the most fiery prancing horses, three abreast, and all jumping at different moments. The Marquis helped me up, and Jean got on the other side; we all rode except the Comtesse and the old Baron. It was too lovely; you are bounced up and down, and you have to hold on so tight, and every one screams, and the band plays; and I wish you could do it, Mamma. I am sure the thorough shaking would frighten your neuralgia away. I could have gone on for an hour, but there was such a lot to see, we could not spare the time for more than one turn. The Marquis whispered when he helped me off that his walk down the Champs Elysées had indeed been fortunate, as he had seen me, and that it was he who had suggested to the Baronne to come to the Foire. So of course I felt grateful to him. We walked all together more or less, but Jean kept glued to my side, which was rather a bore, only the Marquis or the Vicomte were always at the other side.
The Ennui of the Lions
The next place we came to was a huge menagerie of clever animals, with their Dompteurs—cages of lions, bears, tigers, &c. There were sets of seats before the cages where anything interesting was going on, and the audience moved up as each new Dompteur came in to the animals. We sat down at first in front of the tigers' cage, the Baronne next to me this time. The creatures went through astonishing tricks, and looked such lazy great beautiful cats. The Dompteur was a handsome man, just the type they always are, with a wide receding forehead and flashing eyes. They positively blazed at the brutes if they did not obey him instantly. I wonder why all "tamers" have this shape of head? I asked the Vicomte, but he did not know. The bears came next, horrid cunning white things, and turning in their toes like that does give them such a frumpish look.