Curious affair in the village yesterday. Owners of land bordering the forest have the right to catch such deer as they find on their land. Now is the season when deer stray, in search of young shoot. They stray about dawn. Villagers organise a sort of surprise for the deer. They arise before dawn and lie in wait. Yesterday morning sixty people caught six deer. The deer were killed in an open yard close to this house, and blood ran in gallons into and down the road. The sixty people drew lots for the best cuts, and one hears the monotonous calling of the numbers. One tenth of a deer for each person. This morning I saw 4 biches and 3 cerfs slowly cross the road in the forest, about 100 yards behind me.
Yesterday I finished the 5,000 word supplementary instalment for "Helen with the High Hand", begun on Saturday afternoon, and I posted it to Pinker this morning.
Very proud of my extraordinary industry and efficiency at the present moment. Over 100,000 good words written in the first quarter of this year.
I tried yesterday and today to comprehend a resume of the metaphysics of Prof. Bergson, in the current Mercure de France, and simply couldn't. Not the first time I have failed to interest myself in metaphysics. History and general philosophy much more in my line.