Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1915-08-24

blood.
CHAPTER III
DIEPPE. high and glaring white above
| ~ the water. will always symbolic to
me the gate OF France. The nobility of
that view remained in my thoughts when
half the distance to Paris was traversed.
could shut my eyes and see It as
lay on the straw in a post-house stable.
| A square hole in the front of the grenier
gave upon the landscape. Even respec-
table houses in that part of the country
were then built with few or no windows;
but delicious masses Of grayness they
were, rooted with thick and overhanging
thatch.
| "The stables of France are nothing but
covered dunghills," Doctor Chantry grum-
bled; so when l crept with the Indian to
| lodgings over the cattle. one of the beds
in the house was hired for the gouty mas
| ter. Even at inns there were two or
three beds in a room where they set us
to dine.
IAN English inn-keeper would throw
| their furniture into the fret he cried
| in a language fortunately not understood
"But we have two good rooms on the
| ground floor and another for Skenedonk, :"
| ] sometimes demonstrated with him. "at
three shillings and six-pence a day, in
your money"
You would not see any man, let his
/ rank be what it may" Doctor Chantry
| retorted, dining in his bedroom in Eng
land. And look at these walls!-papered
with two or three inks of paper, the bare
spots hung with tapestry moth-eaten and
| filled with spiders! And what have we
| for table?-a board laid on cross-bars!
| And the oaken chairs are rush-bottomed,
and so straight the backs are a persecu-
! tion! The door hinges creak in these inns
the wind blows through"
So his complaints went on. for there
| never was a man who got so much out
of small mseries. Skenedonk and 1 must
have failed to see all in our travels that
| he put before u.s. For we were full of en-
| joyment and wonder: at the country peo-
| pie, wooden shod the women's caps and
long cloaks; at the quiet fair roads which
multiplied themselves until we often
| paused enchanted In a fairy world of
sameness; at market towns, where foun-
tains in the squares were often older than
America, the country out of which we
arrived.
Skenedonk heard without shifting a
| muscle all Doctor Chantry's grievances;
and 1 told him we ought to cherish them
for they were views of life we could not
I
| delicately that they lose color and rail
at the sight Of raw tripe brought in by
| a proud hostess to show her resources
for dinner; or at a chicken coming upon
| the table with its head tucked beneath
its wing.
1--WE are fed with poulet, poulet, moth
| ing but poulet," said Doctor Chantry.
until the poulets themselves are
ashamed to look us in the facet"
was good, and my master said he must
sustain himself on 1t though 1t proved
his death. He could not march as Skene-
| donk and l regularly marched. We hired
| cart to lift him and our knapsacka
from village to village, with a driver who
knew the road to Paris When the dis
| tances were long We sometimes mounted
beside him. l noticed that the soil OF
this country had not the chalk look OF
| other lands which / afterwards saw to
| the east and north; but Napoleon was al
ready making good the ancient thorough
| fares.
When my master was on shipboard he
enjoyed the sea even less than the free
air of these broad stretches; for while he
| could cast an eye about and approve of
something under the sky-perhaps a
church steeple, or the color of a thatch
which filled me with joy-he could not
approve of anything aboard a shin. In
| deed, IL was pity to have no delight in
cleaVing the water, and in the far-off
spoutlng OF whales to say nothing of a
| living world that rides In undulations.
For my part, 1 loved even the creaking
| of ship, and the uncertainty of ever
coming TO port, and the anxiety lest a
black flag should show above every san
We passed. The slow progress Of man
from point TO point In his experience,
| while II sometimes enrages, on the whole
interests me; and the monotony of a
voyage has a sweetness like the mo-
notony OF daily bread.
1 looked out OF the grenier window
upon the high road, and upon the June
sun In the act of setting; for we had
supped and gone early TO rest after a
haEd DAY; Post horses were stamping
underneath, all ready for some nohIe
count who intended to make another
stage OF his journey before nightfall.
SHah oDtruslVe cares, such as the de.
sire that my shoes should last well into
Paris, mingled with JOY in the smell OF
the earth az sunset, and the looking for
ward TO seeing Madame de Ferrier again
! wrapped myself every night In tbe con.
yiction that ! should see her, and mors
freely than l had ever seen her n
America. "
There was a noise of horses Rallonin1
and the expected noble count arrived
being no other than De Chaumont wifi
his post coaches. He stepped out Of IN,
first. and Ernestine stepped out on ths
second. carrying Paul She took him 4,
his mother. The door flew open, and ths
woman l adored received her child AM
walked back and forth with him. An.
mabel leaned out while the horaes ,..r.
changed. saw Miss chantry, and M,
heart misgaye me. remembering he,
brothers prolonged lament at separation
from her.
He was. l trusted. already shut int,
one OF those public beds which are IN,
cupDoards; for the day had begun for N
at OF the morning. But IL he choa,
70 show himself, and fall upon De Chan
mont for luxurious conveyance 20 Paris
i was determined that Skenedonk and
should not appear
wroneed my poor master, who tol.
ne eftefwards he watched through .