Where the Fresquel
enters the canal, there is, on the opposite side, a waste, to let off
the superfluous waters. The horse-way is continued over this waste, by a
bridge of stone of eighteen arches. I observe them fishing in the canal,
with a skimming net of about fifteen feet diameter, with which they tell
me they catch carp. Flax in blossom. Neither strawberries nor peas yet
at Carcassonne. The Windsor-bean just come to table. From the _ecluse de
la Lande_ we see the last olive trees near a _metairee_, or farm-house-,
called _La Lande_. On a review of what I have seen and heard of this
tree, the following seem to be its northern limits. Beginning on the
Atlantic, at the Pyrenees, and along them to the meridian of La Lande,
or of Carcassonne; up that meridian to the Cevennes, as they begin just
there to raise themselves high enough to afford it shelter. Along the
Cevennes, to the parallel of forty-five degrees of latitude, and along
that parallel (crossing the Rhone near the mouth of the Isere) to the
Alps; thence along the Alps and Apennines, to what parallel of
latitude I know not.
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