Chapter 2

A Steady steed is Mumbo, if just a trifle slow; Upon her back you couldn't well a-steeple-chasing go: But other opportunities there are to have a ride, For there's a stud of ponies, and a camel to bestride-- A cart that's drawn by oxen can accommodate a few,

And if such queer conveyances don't please you at the Zoo', There are little tramway cars too, with seats on either side, Which will take you through the gardens, and through the _Bois_ beside:-- Take the ticket on the other page, and with it you may go From the lake within the garden to the gate that's called _Maillot_.

THE SWANS.

"Ho! pretty swans, Do you know, in our Zoo' The swans of old England Are just like you?"

"Don't tell me!" Said a cross old bird; "I know better, The thing's quite absurd.

"Their figures, I'm sure, Are not worth a glance: If you want to see style, You _must_ come to France."

With a scornful whisk The swan turned tail, Spread its wings to the breeze, And was off full-sail.

"Ho! pretty swan, Do you know, in our Zoo' The swans are not half So conceited as you?"

A FLOWER STALL ON THE BOULEVARDS

Look at Mère Victorine At her stall in the street, With the lily and rose, And the white _marguerite_, She makes pretty _bouquéts_ The whole of the day: There are buyers in plenty Who pass by that way. Little Basil and Amélie, Watching her, stand: Up to Mère Victorine Basil stretches his hand, "Can't you spare me," says he, "A morsel of green, Or _one_ sweet little flower, Good Mère Victorine?" "If you come for a flower, Pray where is your _sou_?" Answers Mère Victorine, "I can't _give_ one to you-- Such flowers as mine Are for selling, you know; You must go to the country, Where _wild_ flowers grow."

A DAY AT VERSAILLES.

At Versailles, as perhaps you have heard, Countless pictures of fights Form the chief of the sights: Could so many great battles have ever occurred?

No wonder our children the gardens preferred:-- For the fountains were really so pretty a sight, That Bertie declared--and I think he was right-- It was better to play Like the fountains all day, Than such terrible battles to fight.

LA FONTAINE DES INNOCENTS

Round this pretty fountain here Sparrows gather all the year; In its sparkling waters dip, From its basin freely sip, Round about their fountain play, Safe and happy all the day;-- Little "innocents" are they. That is Antoine, bread in hand; See him by his mother stand: Saucy little birdies spy Antoine's bread, and at it fly, Trying each to get a share, Frightening little Antoine there. Antoine does not _wish_ to share, Thinks the bread is all _his_ right, Just to suit his appetite. Mother says, "Be kind, my son, There is more when this is done; Bread enough for thee at home:-- Let the pretty sparrows come; Give them each a little crumb."

Here our little family Near the fountain too, we see, Walking through the open space To the covered market-place.

THE MARKETS OF PARIS

Here from morning till night they are selling and buying, And from morning till night their market wares crying:

All around you will find there is food of each kind; There are flesh, fowl, and fish here for every dish. The fish-market you see on the opposite page: On this stall that is nearest, the shell-fish appear; But were I to begin, it would take me an age To tell you the names of the fish you find here. See! there's puss looking out for what she can get, And that little boy who is laughing is Paul,-- The girl with the lobster is sister Lisette, And he's watching to see if it nips her at all. Madame Blaise, there, tells Nellie her mussels are good, But Nellie smiles sweetly and goes on her way, And I venture to doubt if she quite understood All the funny French things Madame Blaise had to say. Other parts of the market contain butchers meat, And poultry, and fruit, and salads, and greens, And here, if you want them, quite young, fresh and sweet, Are the _haricóts verts_ which we know as "French beans."

For, from morning till night here they're selling and buying, And from morning till night their market wares crying.

IN THE LUXEMBOURG GARDENS.

Rose and Bertie have a ride; Mabel, walking at their side, Carries both the dolls, and so By the Luxembourg they go.

Over in that Palace soon-- For the clock is marking noon-- The "Senate" will together come (Like our "House of Lords" at home).

Hear that woman, "Who will buy Windmill, ball, or butterfly"-- Josephine and Phillipe, see, Eager as they both can be.

Charles before her, silent stands, With no money in his hands, No more _sous_--he spent them all On that big inflated ball.

Be content, my little friend, Money spent you cannot spend; With your good St. Bernard play, Buy more toys another day.

A MERRY-GO-ROUND IN THE CHAMPS ELYSEES

Here all the day long, Are race-horses for hire, That never go wrong. And besides, never tire. Here all the day long, Are race-horses for hire. Who will come for a ride? Horses, lions, all ready! Bear or tiger astride, You shall sit safe and steady. Who will come for a ride? Lions, horses, all ready!

Round and round they canter slow--soon they fast and faster go; Look at Louis, all in white, Gaspard, almost out of sight, Rose and Mabel side by side;--Bertie watching while they ride. Dennis waits till they have done,--much too big to join the fun; Brother Paul, with serious air, minds his little sister Claire, Thinking if _he_ had a sou, _she_ should have some pleasure too.

Now, with regret, they've said Good-bye to Paris bright and gay; To Calais they are drawing nigh--you see them on their way. To travel thus, all through the night, at first they thought was fun. But by degrees they grew less bright, as hours passed one by one. Then Nellie to her sisters said, "Let's have an extra rug. And make-believe we're home in bed, and cuddle close and snug, And try, until the night has passed, which can most quiet keep." Then all were tucked up warm and fast, and soon fell sound asleep.

The happy time abroad, again in dreams is all gone o'er-- Again in Paris, as it seems, they watch the crowd once more. The "Elysian Fields," beneath the trees, are peopled with a throng Of loveliest dolls, which at their ease converse, or ride along; And wondrous "Easter Eggs" in nests, abundant lie around, And "April Fish" with golden vests and silver coats, abound! Such fleeting fancies Dreamland lends to pass the time away Until the railway journey ends, just at the break of day.

PORTE DE LA MER, CALAIS.

The last place where they stopped abroad was Calais, which, you know, Belonged to England once--though that was many a year ago: It has a beautiful old Tower, all weatherworn and brown, And here's the Sea-Gate, opening from the walls that guard the town. But now Farewell to Merry France! the vessel ready waits To take our party back again across the Dover Straits.

HOMEWARD BOUND.

Hurrah! we're afloat, and away speeds the boat as fast as its paddles can go, With the wind on its back, and a broad foaming track behind it, as white as the snow. On board, every eye is strained to descry the white cliffs of our own native land, And brightly they gleam, as onward we steam, till at length they are close at hand. The sun shines with glee on the rippling sea, and the pennant strung high on the mast. But at length it sinks down behind the grey town, and tells us the day is nigh past. See, there is the port, and near it a fort, and the strong old Castle of Dover-- We're close to the shore--just five minutes more, and the Channel Crossing is over. Then all safe and sound upon English ground, we bid farewell to the sea-- Jump into the train, and start off again as fast as the engine can flee. We run up to town, and thence travel down to the home in the country, at night; Then, I'm sorry to say, dear Nellie and May, Rose, Dennis, and Bertie bright, We must leave in their home till next holidays come, when, let all of us hope, it may chance That our trip will, next Spring, be as pleasant a thing as our swallow-flight over to France.

· BON RÉTOUR ·

NOW THAT AT LAST WE'RE SAFELY BACK AGAIN, AND AS UPON THE RAILWAY BRIDGE THE TRAIN IS STAYED SOME MOMENTS, LET US SAY GOOD-BYE, AND ASK IF YOU'VE ENJOYED THE TRIP, AND TRY TO THINK THAT SOON AGAIN WE'RE SURE TO MEET, ON COUNTRY ROAD OR IN THE CROWDED STREET, AND ERE WE PART, STILL LINGER FOR A WHILE, VIEWING THIS TRANQUIL SCENE WITH PENSIVE SMILE,-- THE EVENING GLOW, THE RIVER'S FALLING TIDE, SAINT PAUL'S FAMILIAR DOME AND LONDON'S PRIDE.

· AU REVOIR BIENTÔT ·

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Transcriber's Notes:

Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

Page 22, "Créche" changed to "Crèche" (of the _Crèche_)

Page 24, twice, "Maitre" changed to "Maître" (Monsieur le Maître)