THE YOUTH’S CABINET. 345

 

coon we were off again, and after a long
ride of two hundred and ten miles, we
entered the outskirts of London. “ This
is mighty London once more !” I said to
my cousin at my side. At the terminus,
we took a cab to a tavern in the region
of our friends, fur we were really tired out,
and needed food and refreshments before
we saw anybody. At the hotel, we were
soon very comfortable. The English ho-
tels are the most comfortable in the world,
but they are very costly. In the evening,
with my cousin, I sauntered out into the
streets, which were very natural to me,
and I felt at home.

I cannot tell you what happy times I
had for the following week, meeting old
friends. In a week we started for Paris,
where I am writing you this letter. At
London Bridge wharf we took a steamer
for Boulogne, which lies on the French
coast, you will see, if you look at your
maps. It was a windy day, but quite
pleasant winding down the river Thames ;
but when, as night drew on, the captain
ordered the tables and chairs all fastened,
and began to elear for a hard storm, we
felt queerly. It was a stormy, fearful
night. I never was 80 sea-sick in my
life—not upon the great Atlantic. About
midnight I saw the light upon the pier-
heads at Boulogne, and it was a cheering
sicht. We got in, and landed at two
o'clock in the morning. Our passports
were taken from us here, and we were
very tired; so we hired a commissioner,
who took our keys, and while we went to
sleep, got them through the eustom-house.
We told him he must see that we took
the early train for Paris; and he awoke
us at six in the morning, and we went to
the dépot. We could not talk a word of
French; but our commissioner talked

English and French, and through him we
arranged everything. He had worked
faithfully for us all night, and we were
willing to pay him a good round price for
his labor.

Soon we were whirling away on the
railroad to Paris, France is the most
beautiful country I ever was in, The
fields look sweeter than those of England,
for the sun shines clearer and warmer in
France than in England. It is misty &
great deal of the time there, but in France
the sun is pleasant, the sky clear, and the
country smells of vineyards! The cot-
tages of the little farmers were always
shaded with trees; and flowers were
planted all around them; and the fields
were as beautiful as gardens. I saw many
women who were working in the fields;
but this did not shock me so much, as
to see, as I did in Boulogne, and have
since in Paris, women clean the streets
and gutters in the morning. Women
are generally employed in French cities
to do the dirtiest work. To an American,
this is unpleasant. In our happy land,
woman has her true position. Very
thankful ought the little girls of the
Capiner to be, that they are in Ame-
rica; for no women ijn the world are 80
universally treated with respect as the
American women, ‘The politeness shown
to women in France is hollow. The po-
litest men are very often those who have
no real love for the noblest qualities of a
pure woman. ,

But I am getting aside from the story
of my trip to Paris. After a while we
came to Amiens, a French city. We stop-
ped here, and I contrived to get some-
thing to cat, without any knowledge of
the language. I could ask “ Combien sous
le prix ?”—how many sous the price!—