How lovely it looks, college Mignet. I don’t understand how any young man could not be absolutely thrilled to be passing his school days in its hallowed halls.
Or experiencing la vie scolaire where the student population outnumbers his Bowen school by about 800 per cent…
Three o’clock. Getting out a bit early today. Children in France routinely see their classes stretching into the later afternoon, often not ending until 5 p.m.
I guess when the dinner hour is not until 8 p.m. (slight adjustment for us prairie chickens) the late ending to the day is not that big an event.
I think of this place a couple of centuries ago, young women clad in black coming in and rarely going out, part but not part of the community outside…
So much rich and detailed history and so little time to absorb it…!
Okay now. Class is out, a great crush of humanity surges forth and a certain lad looks as though is he high-tailin’ it out and away, thank you very much.
Gotta go gotta go gotta get outta here before somebody tries to talk to me because I just wanna go home and get outta this joint…
Oh! Hi, Mum! Can I have a euro?
And then peace reigns again as we glide through the shadows with out friends.
Until the next day…
The Country Mice 
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