He kept
bellowing in a terrible voice, while beating a tattoo on the door of a
neighbouring house.
CHAPTER VI.
QUIMPER.
Quimper, although it is the centre of the real Brittany, is distinctly
different from it. The elm-tree promenade that follows the winding
river, which has quays and boats, renders the town very pretty and the
big Hotel de la Prefecture, which alone covers the little western delta,
gives it a thoroughly administrative and French appearance. You are
aware that you are in the _chef-lieu_ of a department, a fact brought
home to you by the latter's division in _arrondissements_, with their
large, medium, and small parishes, its committee of primary instruction,
its saving banks, its town council and other modern inventions, which
rob the cities of local colour, dear to the heart of the innocent
tourist.
With all due deference to the people who pronounce the name of
Quimper-Corentin as the synonyme of all that is ridiculous and
provincial, it is a most delightful place, and well worth other more
respected ones. You will not, it is true, find the charms and riotous
wealth of colouring possessed by Quimperle; still, I know of few things
that can equal the charming appearance of that alley following the edge
of the river and shaded by the escarpment of a neighbouring mountain,
which casts the dark shadows of its luxuriant foliage over it.
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