laiterie

Sayabec was—and remains—the kind of slow-paced town where, in the summertime, after dinner, you will find a hundred cars in the big dirt parking lot of the local bar laiterie, and half the town standing around their cars, eating ice cream and chatting.

THE SECOND MARK JOY GOODWIN 2004

Sayabec was—and remains—the kind of slow-paced town where, in the summertime, after dinner, you will find a hundred cars in the big dirt parking lot of the local bar laiterie, and half the town standing around their cars, eating ice cream and chatting.

THE SECOND MARK JOY GOODWIN 2004

Sayabec was—and remains—the kind of slow-paced town where, in the summertime, after dinner, you will find a hundred cars in the big dirt parking lot of the local bar laiterie, and half the town standing around their cars, eating ice cream and chatting.

THE SECOND MARK JOY GOODWIN 2004

They walked all around the _laiterie_, and all the time she was gay and whimsical, and to herself she was saying, "I am unutterably happy, but we must not talk of love."

Beyond The Rocks A Love Story Elinor Glyn 1903

We used to go to work at six in the morning, draw two hours and then go to a little laiterie and take our bowl of cafe au lait and a small loaf of bread, and then draw till noon, when we went home for the second breakfast.

The Autobiography of a Journalist Stillman, William James, 1828-1901 1901

"Ah," she exclaimed, "surely that is the handsome, tall young gentleman who walks over often to look at the Villa Mirasole, near our laiterie: the brother of the prince who is coming soon to live there."

The Guests Of Hercules M. Leone Bracker 1901

She was a beauty, and her fame spread until people of all classes made errands to the laiterie of Verando, Emilio, to stare at the dark-browed girl who was like a splendid Ligurian storm-cloud.

The Guests Of Hercules M. Leone Bracker 1901

We used to go to work at six in the morning, draw two hours and then go to a little _laiterie_ and take our bowl of _café au lait_ and a small loaf of bread, and then draw till noon, when we went home for the second breakfast.

The Autobiography of a Journalist, Volume I William James Stillman 1864