f doors smoking and sipping all day long
and little plays being acted in the open air for little people and every
shop a complete and elegant room, and everybody seeming to play at
everything in this world. And as to the sparkling lights my dear after
dark, glittering high up and low down and on before and on behind and all
round, and the crowd of theatres and the crowd of people and the crowd of
all sorts, it's pure enchantment. And pretty well the only thing that
grated on me was that whether you pay your fare at the railway or whether
you change your money at a money-dealer's or whether you take your ticket
at the theatre, the lady or gentleman is caged up (I suppose by
government) behind the strongest iron bars having more of a Zoological
appearance than a free country.

Well to be sure when I did after all get my precious bones to bed that
night, and my Young Rogue came in to kiss me and asks "What do you think
of this lovely lovely Paris, Gran?" I says "Jemmy I feel as if it was
beautiful fireworks being let off in my head." And very cool and
refreshing the pleasant country was next day when we went on to look
after my Legacy, and rested me much and did me a deal of good.

So at length and at last my dear we come to Sens, a pretty little town
with a great two-towered cathedral and the rooks flying in and out of the
loopholes and another tower atop of one of the towers like a sort of a
stone pulpit. In which pulpit with the birds skimming below him if
you'll believe me, I saw a speck while I was resting at the inn before
dinner which they made signs to me was Jemmy and which really was. I had
been a fancying as I sat in the balcony of the hotel that an Angel might
light there and call down to the people to be good, but I little thought
what Jemmy all unknown to himself was a calling down from that high place
to some one in the town.

The pleasantest-situated inn my dear! Right under the two towers, with
their shadows a changing upon it all day like a kind of a sundial, and
country people driving in and out of the courtyard in carts and hooded
cabriolets and such like, and a market outside in front of the cathedral,
and all so quaint and like a picter. The Major and me agreed that
whatever came of my Legacy this was the place to stay in for our holiday,
and we also agreed that our dear boy had best not be checked in his joy
that night by the sight of the Englishman if he was still alive, but that
we would