at different seasons, also an account of merrymaking
in bygone days, and some reflections, in the same spirit, on present-day
rejoicings.

There are various ways of becoming acquainted with an interesting city.
Some people invest in a guide-book before starting out on the journey,
others do not rest until they have bought one or more on arriving at
their destination. You may notice these people studying the book on the
boat perhaps, certainly in the train; they even let the book interfere
with the proper attention that is due to meals; and allow me to remark
here that the wagon-lit people are very sound on the question of food.

These people are slaves to the guide-book; they leave it not, day or
night, and the more methodical they are in conforming to the cramped
spirit of the book, the less do they discover things by themselves. No
guide-book ever can initiate you into the atmosphere of a city like
Prague.

The sight of the guide-book slave "doing" an ancient and glorious city
always fills me with sorrow, sometimes, indeed, with annoyance. These
slaves frequently hunt in couples, male and female, sometimes with
progeny at heel, and it is generally the male who discovers things--in
the guide-book--and then drags the rest of his outfit in search of his
discovery. As this is usually done at a reckless pace, the performance
is apt to upset the repose of the inhabitants whose perambulations of
their native place are in marked contrast to the silent, ruthless hurry
in the streets of our large towns. The good burghers of foreign towns
seem to have plenty of their own and other people's time to spare; they
also possess the gift of unlimited conversational powers. I have known
many a pleasant chat rudely interrupted by a group of British or
American travellers who, with nose well inside a book, blue or red but
obviously "guide," push their way, ruthless as Juggernaut, through
bunches of inoffensive natives. There is one consolation: those slaves
of the guide-book frequently miss the prettiest bits, just because they
are looking into the book instead of around them.

Ask such as they about the atmosphere of some old-world haunt, and you
will probably hear complaints about the food or the service.

Some tourists aggravate their position by hiring a guide. Every city of
any historic importance breeds a class of mortals that are born guides;
they have come to belong to the "staffage" of picturesque surroundings;
and in thi