Quite a few tilings are different here than they are there- Sunday morning is the time for market. Everybodygoes to town'and the things are lined up ou the main street on both sides, and you can go down the middle and get anything you want from a radish to a cow. They have funny ways of going to market: I remember one morning I was going down the street in St. X a zaire and saw a little wagon coming which had three wheels, two big ones in front and one small one behind. A Frenchman was sitting in the front end and the rear was filled with vegetables, and three dogs with a rope tied to the axle of this cart were pulling for dear life, and, believe me, they were taking that Frenchman to market. One morning in Bordeaux, an-