herself with two thermometers, one to hang up in the dairy and one to test the heat of the milk. My own feeling inclines me to advise the taking up of the Pont Evêque cheeses more than the Camembert; they are not so difficult to ripen, and I think are more suitable to English taste, and should command a ready sale.

Now if any one feels fired by a spirit of enterprise to take up this interesting work, I could promise her that much pleasure could be derived from such a trip, and if such a one is a cyclist, it could be carried out at a very small cost. The roads in Normandy are splendid, with a surface that even after heavy rains dries quickly, and one can always find little country inns or auberges, where good food and cleanliness can be insured, if not luxury. And I think the most agreeable way of making a cycling tour is not to make any very hard-and-fast rule as to stopping-places, but let it depend on the weather and one's own feelings, as some days a run of forty miles is easily accomplished, and yet on another, with a hot sun and many long côtes to climb, one is sufficiently tired after twenty-five miles to greet with pleasure the little brick-floored cool parlour of the wayside inn, and relish the excellent coffee, even without milk, and the rolls and lovely butter that are always provided.

FALAISE.

To reach Lisieux, which I warmly advise as headquarters, a very delightful route for a cyclist is the following:—

Go over to Dieppe by the day boat, reaching about 4 P.M. At the Hotel de Paris prices are very reasonable (which is more than can be said for some of the hotels). Next morning start early, before the heat of the day, and take the road which leads by the station up a long hill and then through a very pleasant country of green fields and high hedges and running streams, past the villages of Longueville, Auffay and Clères, which is twenty-five miles from Dieppe, and where there is a nice little inn. This is the Rouen Road, and if a forty-mile journey is not too long, then Rouen can be reached without difficulty, as the roads are good and there are no long hills, but if a very small village inn is not objected to, I should advise my cyclist to stop at Malaunay (twenty-three miles) at the Hotel de la Poste, where, though one has to pass through the kitchen to one's brick-floored little bedroom, I think the sight of the charming methods carried on in even such a modest French kitchen is quite enough to give one an appetite for dinner, and a desire to possess just such a stove and such shining pots and pans and delightful brown earthenware "marmites." We will then suppose our cyclist elects to rest at Malaunay. Next day again start early, as there is little to see there except a sight which filled me with horror, namely, a "margarine fabrique," specially for export to England; that wide mouth which seems ready to take all that other countries will send, bad or good.

From Malaunay, take the road for Maremme, turn to the right up a long steep hill, and then a pleasant road through woods and valleys brings one to the Seine at Duclair (sixteen miles). Along this district, one first makes acquaintance with the charming black and white cottages thatched with straw, with the top of the roof bound firm by iris planted all along the ridge. When I was there in May, these purple-roofed cottages were most picturesque. I should advise any one who has the time to turn off the main road two miles to Jumièges and visit those grand old ruins which stand in one of the promontories made by the winding Seine. From Duclair a flat road leads to pretty Caudebec (nine miles); here the Hotel de la Marine offers inexpensive comfort.

Make an evening visit to the great cathedral, which seems so out of proportion to the size of the small riverside town, and you will be fortunate if you come in for such a sweet, solemn service as I did this year. There were only a few scattered lamps here and there hung in the great arches, the light barely illuminating the central aisle, but a brilliant light just outside the altar rails brought into full relief a group of maidens, who were pouring forth the sweetest cantique of love and devotion to "Marie, notre Mère;" while far away in the half gloom shone out the never dying lamp opposite the tabernacle, and then, as the hymn died away, the priests' voices rose and fell, and the bell rang at the sanctus, and on the whole congregation came the wonderful peace and quiet of the hour of benediction. And later, as I passed out into the dim silence of the spring evening, I noted how there were rough men from the boats on the river, and gipsy women from a little encampment close by, and white-capped mothers with their children and the wooden sabots clattered down the dark streets, and all was quiet.

MARKET-PLACE.

If the next day should be the market day, the picturesque confusion of the great square under the shadow of the cathedral, makes a scene not easily forgotten—white tents and big blue umbrellas sheltering piles of red carrots and cartloads of green cabbages, while the stalls are decorated with huge bunches of pale-blue forget-me-nots and sweet white pinks. Here you will make your first acquaintance with a Normandy cheese stall, and I must confess the cheeses one meets at the country markets are not inviting, but to the intending cheese-maker they are most interesting.

There are two routes to choose from by which to reach Lisieux from Caudebec. The shortest is to cross the river by the ferry, and it is only nineteen miles to Pont Audemer, but the prettiest road is by Lillebonne and Quillebœuf, where one takes the ferry, and through a rich pasture country one reaches Pont Audemer, about twenty-two miles. Here the tourist had better rest for refreshment. The remainder of the road to Lisieux, another twenty-two miles, is through rather a hilly country, but there are no very steep hills, and one finishes by a two-mile run down into Lisieux, which lies in a deep valley.

There are several good hotels here, but I can name Hotel d'Espagne as comfortable and reasonable in prices, while the landlord is always ready to give advice as to the best farms to visit and the nearest roads.

When arrived at Lisieux, I advise that all the larger farms and dairies should be visited. I met with the greatest courtesy, and I found none of the extreme reluctance to tell one the secrets which I had been led to expect. On the contrary, I was able to see each step of the various processes of the making of Camembert, Pont Evêque and Livarot. The simplicity of the work of making these soft cheeses is such, that I can only attribute the great difficulty experienced in England to produce Camemberts in perfection to the herbage and the difference of atmosphere. One of the largest makers and exporters of all the various kinds of these cheeses is Monsieur Brière, at Mesnil Guillaume, some four miles from Lisieux. Here, if he will be good enough to show his manufactory, as he did to me, the work can be seen to its greatest perfection—from the first turning of the milk, through the various stages of the drying of the cheeses, to the final business of packing for export. Monsieur Brière in the month of May, which is accounted as la saison morte for Camembert, was sending away one thousand five hundred daily.

He makes also Pont Evêque and every variety of these French cheeses. I should, however, recommend that a visit be paid to one of the farms nearer Pont Evêque, where this is made a speciality.

Pont Evêque lies about thirteen miles from Lisieux. A large quantity of these cheeses