Studio: international art (65.1915)

Impressions of Brittany in War Time

£‘ convalescent”

floating webs are traced against the
sky and the forest of masts rises up
tall and straight, silhouetted against
the horizon. If in daytime the
scene is a glorious Turner of volup-
tuous colour, the night time makes
of it an etching to live for ever in
the memory. One need not, how-
ever, search for “effects” in
Douarnenez. All one has to do is
to sit at the door of the Hotel de
Bretagne, that admirable and antique
hostel, situated in the very centre of
the town, and “effects” come to
one.

It was from this comfortable point
of vantage that our astonished eyes
saw a rose garden come marching
gaily down the steep incline, and a
braver rose garden was never seen.
A section of one of the regiments
had been ordered to the front and
was on its way to the station. Be-
fore leaving the caserne it had been
inundated by gifts of June roses.
Every man gallantly stuck a rose
in the barrel of his rifle, and on they
came at quick march between rows
of black robed, white-capped women
of Douarnenez and backed by that

behind him on his flying
charger and Saint Guenole
pursuing them, calling
upon the king to throw
aside Dahut as the wicked
cause of the disaster.
And it is here, in plain
view of Douarnenez port,
that Grallon flung his
daughter Dahut into the
water and she became
the siren of Bad Weather;
and the natives say, “ One
can hear her whistle and
hiss when the tempest
rises.”

But to see the wonder-
ful port of Douarnenez in
one of its most enchant-
ing moments one must
visit it by the pale moon-
light, when the delicate,
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RECRUITS OF THE I917 CLASS