Laughing Torso

PARIS AND BRITTANY

find myself alive. It is a most terrifying experience.
We had to walk along a very narrow path. On
one side of the Point was a whirlpool which churned
and seethed and the water dashed nearly up to
our feet. The path was on the edge of a precipice
with no protection whatever. I ran along it
quickly, as I really felt as if my last minute had
come. We asked the guide if people ever fell over
or got giddy* He said that six had the previous
year and when once they went overboard they were
gone for ever, as they were dashed to pieces im-
mediately on the rocks below. We were led on and
round the end of the Point; we had to cling on to
rocks and grass. This continued until we were
nearly completely round the Point. We immediately
returned to the hotel and had some more wine to
calm our shattered nerves.
We came to a strange place with savage dark
people and strange old ladies, wearing antique
costumes of, I should imagine, the eighteenth
century. With difficulty we found someone who
spoke French. The place was called Ploneour.
Outside the church was the funniest War Memorial
that I have ever seen. It must have been sculptured
by the local stone-cutter. It represented two soldiers
standing each side of a tablet, on which were
written a list of the names of the dead. The two
soldiers were identical and were exactly like the
wooden soldiers in the song. I wish I could have
taken a photograph of it or that I had had time to
do a drawing. We came to another strange place
called He Tudy. Here the origin of the people
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