In France, such a wedding present could only be offered to a domestic who had served us faithfully for some time.
I was in France, spending a few days with a farmer in the heart of the country.
Dressed in a blouse and a large straw hat, I was one day taking a walk on the main road, when an Englishman, accompanied by a young lad of fifteen, accosted me, and asked which was the shortest way to the village of M——.
Delighted to see an Englishman, I volunteered all the information that was at my command. I even offered to accompany him as far as the lane which led to M——, and he willingly accepted.
After racking my brains to give my Englishman every detail I could think of, concerning the interesting village he was about to visit, I proposed to turn back.
He, after having uttered a formidable "Aoh" for all thanks, went on his way.
I had spoken in French. I always like to make Englishmen speak French when I meet them in France. It is my little revenge.
I will admit that, in my rustic attire, I could not have looked much of a dandy; but, in France, we have still preserved that good old habit of saying "Thank you," even to our inferiors.
The Briton had simply treated me as he would have a City policeman who had told him his way.
I called him back.