ncs is about a dollar, is it not?" asked Rollo.

"Yes," replied Mr. George, "very nearly. But you had better not reckon
by dollars, now, at all, but by francs altogether. That's a franc."

So saying, Mr. George took a silver coin out of his pocket, and showed
it to Rollo. It was nearly as large as a quarter of a dollar, or an
English shilling, but not quite. A quarter of a dollar is worth
twenty-five cents, an English shilling twenty-four, and a franc about
twenty cents.

"You can have five of those a day to pay your own board with."

"And how much would it cost me at a boarding house, in Paris, to pay my
board?" asked Rollo.

"Why, we don't board at boarding houses in Paris," said Mr. George. "We
have rooms at a hotel, and then we get breakfast and dinner wherever we
please, at coffee rooms and dining rooms all over the city, wherever we
happen to be, or wherever we take a fancy to go. You can get a very
excellent breakfast for a franc and a half. A beefsteak, or an omelet,
and bread and butter and coffee."

"That's enough for breakfast," said Rollo. "And then, dinner?"

"You can get a first-rate dinner for two francs, or even less. That
makes three francs and a half."

"And tea?"

"They never take tea in Paris," said Mr. George. "The French don't take
tea."

"Why not?" asked Rollo.

"I don't know," replied Mr. George, "unless it is because the English
_do_. Whatever is done in London, you generally find that just the
contrary is done in Paris."

"Don't we have any thing, then, after dinner?" asked Rollo.

"Yes," said Mr. George. "The French generally go and take a seat at a
little round table on the sidewalk, and have a little glass of brandy
and a cigar."

Here Rollo threw his head back, and laughed loud and long. He was
greatly amused at the idea of his making an allowance, in calculating
how far his five francs would go, for a glass of brandy and a cigar. Mr.
George himself, sedate as he was, could not but smile.

"The fact is," said he, at length, "there are only two meals to
calculate for, and they will not cost, upon an average, more than three
francs and a half, if we are prudent and economical, and go to plain and
not expensive places. But then there is the immense amount that you will
be always wishing to spend for cakes, and candy, and oranges, and nuts,
and bonbons of all sorts and kinds. There is an endless variety of such
things in Paris. You will find half a dozen cake shops in every s