Our party consisted of Miss Pugh, Abby Kimber, Mr. Stanton, and myself.  I had many amusing experiences in making my wants known when alone, having forgotten most of my French.  For instance, traveling night and day in the diligence to Paris, as the stops were short, one was sometimes in need of something to eat.  One night as my companions were all asleep, I went out to get a piece of cake or a cracker, or whatever of that sort I could obtain, but, owing to my clumsy use of the language, I was misunderstood.  Just as the diligence was about to start, and the shout for us to get aboard was heard, the waiter came running with a piping hot plate of sweetbreads nicely broiled.  I had waited and wondered why it took so long to get a simple piece of cake or biscuit, and lo! a piece of hot meat was offered me.  I could not take the frizzling thing in my hand nor eat it without bread, knife, or fork, so I hurried off to the coach, the man pursuing me to the very door.  I was vexed and disappointed, while the rest of the party were convulsed with laughter at the parting salute and my attempt to make my way alone.  It was some time before I heard the last of the “sweetbreads.”

When we reached Paris we secured a courier who could speak English, to show us the sights of that wonderful city.  Every morning early he was at the door, rain or shine, to carry out our plans, which, with the aid of our guidebook, we had made the evening before.  In this way, going steadily, day after day, we visited all points of interest for miles round and sailed up and down the Seine.  The Palace of the Tuileries, with its many associations with a long line of more or less unhappy kings and queens, was then in its glory, and its extensive and beautiful grounds were always gay with crowds of happy people.  These gardens were a great resort for nurses and children and were furnished with all manner of novel appliances for their amusement, including beautiful little carriages drawn by four goats with girls or boys driving, boats sailing in the air, seemingly propelled by oars, and hobby horses flying round on whirligigs with boys vainly trying to catch each other.  No people have ever taken the trouble to invent so many amusements for children as have the French.  The people enjoyed being always in the open air, night and day.  The parks are crowded with amusement seekers, some reading and playing games, some sewing, knitting, playing on musical instruments, dancing, sitting around tables in bevies eating, drinking, and gayly chatting.  And yet, when they drive in carriages or go to their homes at night, they will shut themselves in as tight as oysters in their shells.  They have a theory that night air is very injurious,—­in the house,—­although they will sit outside until midnight.  I found this same superstition prevalent in France fifty years later.