_July 9th._--We went in a carriage to see the village fête of Louvécienne. Little Miss Foaker went with us. It was a fine evening. Louvécienne, or Lucien, is above four miles from Versailles; it is very pretty about the village. There were lamps hung across the trees, and seats placed round on the ground where they danced. Three fiddlers were stuck up in a kind of orchestra, and they played a very dull tune extremely badly. I was very much disappointed in the dancing: it was more like a funeral than a dance. The figure was a quadrille. They walked it all till they came to the setting, which they danced in their way, which was almost duller than the walking. All the time they were dancing their faces were as grave as judges: they behaved as if it was a lesson they wished to be done with; as soon as the dance was done they laughed, pulled each other round, and ran off to buy a sweetmeat at one of the booths; then they came back as grave as possible. One of the nicest girls was dressed in a white gown, pink apron, green shoes, and a gold chain; there was one very impudent, disagreeable, vulgar woman, dressed in blue cotton. Some were in white, and some had on red petticoats, high caps, gold chains, etc. There were booths, stalls, whirligigs, roundabouts, etc., like an English fair. We saw an old man and woman of sixty or seventy riding in a roundabout. At the other end, near some trees, there was a party of ladies and gentlemen; they danced much like the peasants, in some respects worse--one or two of them, however, danced tolerably well. This party had rather better music, but very dull. As we went away they were beginning to light the lamps. It looked very pretty to see the people under the trees, but the dancing nearly put one to sleep, and the music was like a funeral dirge. They say that the French like dancing better than anything, and we heard it very much admired. For my part, I think it is neither graceful, nor pretty, nor merry. [Illustration: VILLAGE FÊTE] MUSEUM