au, Saturday, F

st Fa

e that the Ford had arrived at Bordeaux and to stay in Pau until further notice. So

et her and Marjorie Crocker in Bordeaux and drive the car up to Paris. Our road lies straight through the chateau country. With weather and reasonable luck with the car we o

art off with an air in a new car and in a strange city will be a sensation, at least. However, I'll do anything once. The last time I drove a car was when I took Mrs. Perkins for a nat

rto ignored. Anyway, I bought a businesslike appareil and wandered around the chateau seeking the most appealing detail. I chose my point of attack and settled myself down on the curbstone with my muff as a cushion. A few yards away a real artist was working, with stool, easel, board, and other parapher

ng magnanimously forward-I say magnanimously, for really my efforts weren't too successful. Age and weather and the piecemeal way in which the chateau was built have given it that irregularity which is charming. The towers tilt and the roofs sag in a way to make Bob's architectural soul recoil; but I have rendered these with such unstinted charm that in general perspective the chateau seems to have ag

écouter ce qu'il y a aux états-Unis!" Another boy came running from the house and joined him, and I saw him out of the corner of my eye, pointing out the tower of the chateau with astounding comments. I went on describing the elevators in the high buildings and how fast they went. But they had never seen an elevator. He who has missed a French elevator cannot complain of any great lack, but it certainly doe

adn't inspired me-or if French were an unknown

au has given me a luscious taste of being petted. The H?tel de Londres is small and English. Every one greets every one else in the dining-room, every one shares in hotel newspapers, and every one promenades on the boulevard. Getting acquainted

e steadily made the best of the last moment, and really feel

es when you drop a pebble in a pool. Mr. Moody is little and bald and white-haired and coughing, and must always have

n a desperation of loneliness took a great shine to me, which I successfully counteracted by having her teach me the Russian alphabet. Last of all, there was a little French girl,-Bernadotte,-whose

dden; and they were no end nice about my going. Mrs. Moody said how much she would miss the Donna of the next room. (We had become acquainted by my hearing them gargle and their hearing me laughing over my letters from home, and singing "La Donna e Mobile" to myself.) One day I called Mr. Moody's attention to the fact that I had changed my time of departure. He said, "Quite in keeping, my dear. La Donna

lle est là," and when I said, "Hasta luego!" she answered feelingl

ay the kindness that was shown me, and I realize that young people and happy people are scarce now, so that any one of my age a

the villain in the play-black mustache, derby well over the eyes, black velvet brocaded waistcoat, and gold ball cuff-buttons. I expected him to draw a Smith

trifle less awful tha

o

th