Almost all of them move along the glass wall. Some of them obstinately attempt to scale it: they hoist themselves on their tails, fall down, try again elsewhere. With their outstretched fists they knock against the pane; they want to get away at all costs. And yet the grounds are large enough, there is room for all; the walks lend themselves to long strolls. No matter: they want to roam afar. If they were free, they would disperse in every direction. Last year, at the same time, the colonists of the enclosure left the village and I never saw them again. The spring pairing-season enjoins journeys upon them. The shy hermits of yesterday now leave their cells and go on love’s pilgrimage; heedless of food, they set out in quest of their kind. Among the stones of their territory there must be choice spots at which meetings take place, at which assemblies are held. If I were not afraid of breaking my legs, at night, over the rocky obstacles of their hills, I should love to assist at their matrimonial festivals, amid the delights of liberty. What do they do up there, on their bare slopes? Much the same, apparently, as in the glass enclosure. Having made their choice of a bride, they take her about, for a long stretch of time, hand in hand, through the tufts of lavender. If they miss the attractions of my lantern, they have the moon, that incomparable lamp, to light them. 20 May.—The sight of the first invitation to a stroll is not an event upon which we can count every evening. Several emerge from under their stones already linked in couples. In this concatenation of clasped fingers, they have passed the whole day, motionless, one in front of the other and meditating. When night comes, they resume, without separating for a moment, the walk around the glass begun on the evening before, or even earlier. No one knows when or how the junction was effected. Others meet unawares in sequestered passages difficult of inspection. By the time that I see them, it is too late: the equipage is on the way. To-day, chance favours me. The acquaintance is made before my eyes, in the full light of the lantern. A frisky, sprightly male, in his hurried rush through the crowd, suddenly finds himself face to face with a passer-by who takes his fancy. She does not say no; and things go quickly.