The peasants dance all day long. Every day seems a fête day, and the celebrations are always held in the market place. The dance starts with a procession, with a man at the head playing a _biniou_, an instrument (the same in every Celtic country) very much like a bagpipe. They serpentine, as do the college boys of to-day, and whirl madly, couple by couple, with nothing but a clatter of sabots. The virtue lies not in the grace or time, but in keeping it up the longest. The Bretons seine their fish (sardines) in a long net with large corks at the top and weights at the bottom. Myriads of forty-ton boats start out before sunrise, making a picturesque sight with their few feet of deck and large fore and aft sails, originally dyed brilliant colors, but always faded to lovely tones of rose, gray, and tan. The sails drop at the fishing grounds, they let out their nets, and the men begin to row, while one, the boss, stands in the stern to throw the bait. This imported egg of cod is called “_rogue_,” and as he throws it from side to side the play of his body in action is more beautifully Greek than anything in all Europe. Whenever I saw this I wondered if Christ might not have performed his Miracle of the Fishes in somewhat the same way. The catch is enormous. I have seen a net sink, breaking a manila rope the size of my thumb. When the boat comes in it looks as if it were entirely full of shiny fifty-cent pieces in a flutter, and every scoop of the bucket is one of pure silver. When cooked in that flapping condition, in beef drippings, and served with a boiled potato, they come nearer to being perfect human food than anything I know of. Georges Pouchet, the ichthyologist, used to come to the Vivier in Concarneau to study the fish forms. He was a friend of Pasteur, and they were studying mammals as a basis for the investigation of the human body. I lunched with him in his bachelor lodgings during the Salon every year. He had an original way of entertaining. The invitations were always written and very formal. I was always received by the same manservant; lunched with him alone and upon the same menu. We had but one dish. The servant brought in a bowl fully two feet across, full of écrevisses; then bread, wine, and a basin with a towel and fresh water. He said it was necessary to wash while eating these shellfish. Of course we finished off with coffee and a smoke.