A light fall of snow on the ground.
I strolled round the village to warm my toes and, seeing the whole community moving churchwards, joined them, and stood in the crowded church throughout the service. It was Catholic, with music which to my starved ears seemed divine, especially a fine chant sung at the close by the whole congregation. I could not but feel impressed, with the religious attitude of the people, the plain but handsome ornamentation of the church, and to some extent sympathetic with the people who no doubt owe their present unenviable position to the sins of their rulers.
Obtained a bottle of some queer drink like weak crème de menthe. Considering the depredations upon their poultry yards, the folk are better humoured than might be expected. “When tomorrow’s sun doth rise” in its native language! I have just heard it sung, and am attempting to tell them that we too sing it in English.
Dinner over, and not a bad one – mutton, soup, several vegetables, and tinned “duff” with rum sauce.
Walk March 