File:Motoring aboard (1908) (14780450704).jpg

Identifier: motoringaboard00pres (find matches)
Title: Motoring aboard
Year: 1908 (1900s)
Authors: Presbrey, Frank Spencer, 1855- (from old catalog)
Subjects:
Publisher: New York, The Outing publishing company
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: The Library of Congress

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ulddirect us. Oh, yes, they said, they knewwhere the inn was and were at that time on theirway to take tea with the author of the bookwhich had made it famous. Curious how smallthe world is! After a brief chat with them weleft our car in charge of a diminutive girl, whoclimbed up into the chauffeurs seat with all thepride and confidence imaginable, and we walkeddown the narrow, steep street toward the sea.Our directions had been so definite that wewere soon seated in the garden of the inn enjoy-ing the fragrance of the multitude of flowers andthe picture of the sea spread like a great pano-rama before us. In the immediate foregroundfar below us at the bottom of the cliffs was thewide beach, dotted with striped, gay-coloredawnings and white umbrellas under which werethe artists from the Quartier Latin of Paris, whocome in great numbers to these Normandyshores every summer to find subjects for theircanvases. Beyond them were the fishing boatsfrom which there passed a steady stream of 40
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The Inn of William the Conqueror at Dives-Sur-Mer, Normandy, fascinated us icith itsquaint beauty and siveetness. Slang tije ^itturesJque Coasft of iSormanb? bare-legged fisherwomen bearing away thedays haul. It was one of the times and places in this gar-den, where we did not care how many minutesMadame la M^re took in preparing the meal.True, the aroma which drifted over to us fromthe coffee which P^re was roasting in an out-of-door oven just over the hedge of roses, invitedan even greater appetite, but there was so muchto admire, so much of enchantment in the ex-quisite setting that we hardly took thought ofthe hour we waited for the steaming omelette,the poulette en cr^me, the delicious peas, arti-chokes and the potatoes all done to a turn. Wecould have stayed in Villerville for a week andenjoyed every moment, but we argued that thiswould be true of almost every place we saw, sobidding our hosts farewell in our best French—which they were too polite to smile at—we wan-dered ba

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