FROMAGE FRAY
I took my wife Louise to visit a cheese factory while we were on holiday in France.
Afer seeing how the cheese was made and moulded into shape, we were taken down into the cellars where the wheels of cheese mature in the cool, damp air.
As soon as we were in the cellar my wife pulled my arm saying, "We must leave at once, I don't like this place, it's eery, frightening..."
"What do you mean?" I asked. "It's just a cellar full of cheese."
"I know, she said, "but I feel as if every one of those cheeses is calling my name very softly. It's awful, as if the place is haunted."
"I'm sorry," I said to our guide. "We're going to have to leave you. My wife is spooked by all these cheeses, she thinks they're talking to her."
"But Monsieur," said the guide, "this is quite normal. Indeed the great Maurice Chevalier, who loved our cheeses, even wrote a song about it."
"Really?"
"Yes Monsieur. You know it, I'm sure. 'Every little Brie seems to whisper Louise...'"
(Submitted by Annie Seede of Marseille)
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