he flowers to your friend."

Pen and ink, cards, gummed labels or tags are put under your nose. You
are shown the little reed baskets, in rectangular form, that will carry
your gift. If your Paris or London friend knows Latin, and thinks a
minute, he will realize that Cannes is living up to her name in thus
utilizing her reeds to send out over Europe an Easter greeting,
jonquils, carnations, roses, geraniums with the smell of lemons, orange
blossoms, cassia, jessamine, lilacs, violets and mimosa.

CHAPTER XII

MOUGINS

We were about to enter the Casino at Cannes. The coin had been flipped
to decide which of us should pay, and we were starting up the steps
when a yell and a clatter of horses' hoofs made us look around. A
victoria was bearing down upon us. The _cocher_ was waving his whip in
our direction. We recognized the man who had driven us to Grasse.

"A superb afternoon," he explained, "and Mougins is only twelve
kilometers away. With Mougins at twelve kilometers, it is incredible
to think that you would be spending an afternoon like this in the
Casino. I would surely be lacking in my duty--"

"What is Mougins?" I interrupted.

"All that is beautiful," explained the _cocher_ enthusiastically. "A
city on a hill. A glorious view."

"That settles it," said the Artist, turning away. "Every city is on a
hill, and all views are glorious."

"But Mougins is different," insisted the _cocher_, "and the view is
different. Besides, the wine is unique. It is sparkling, and can be
taken at five o'clock with little cakes. There are roads you have not
seen, and pretty girls at work in the rose fields. We shall drive
slowly."

There had been much wandering during the past fortnight and we were
ready for a quiet afternoon at the Casino. But we allowed ourselves to
be persuaded. The Casino was always there, and we had never heard of
_vin mousseux_ on the Riviera. Baedeker, as if in duty bound to miss
nothing, records the existence of Mougins, three kilometers east of the
Cannes-Grasse road after you pass the ten-kilometer stone on the way to
Grasse--then gives the next town. Mougins is not starred, and nothing
around Mougins is starred. Was not that a reason for going there?

English royalty used to come to Cannes, and every season more middle
class Britishers woke up to the fact that it would be pleasant to write
home to one's friends from Cannes. Hotels and villas increased
rapidly. When En