end of Holborn, Cheapside, Cornhill, Leadenhall
street, Whitechapel, etc., where you must go a long way to get any thing
like fresh air. That part of Paris termed La Cite, was the worst in that
respect, but such numbers of houses have been swept away round
Notre-Dame, that they have now formed delightful promenades with trees
and gravelled walks.

The French are extremely fond of anything in the shape of a garden, and
you come upon them sometimes where you would least expect to find them
at the backs of houses, in the very narrow nasty little streets to which
I have alluded, but if they have no space of ground in which they can
raise a bit of something green, they will avail themselves of their
balconies, their terraces, their roofs, parapets, and I have often seen
a sort of frame-work projecting from their windows, containing flowers
and plants. They evince the same partiality for animals, to whom they
are extremely kind, and in several parts of Paris there are hospitals
for dogs and cats, where they are attended with the utmost care. I was
much amused the first time I heard of such an establishment; I went with
a lady to pay a visit to a friend, and after the usual enquiries, the
question of how is Bijou was added, in a most anxious manner: the answer
was given with a sigh. "Oh! my dear, he is at the hospital," and then
continued the lady in a somewhat less doleful tone, "but fortunately he
is going on very well, and in another week we hope he will be able to
come out." I thought all the while that they must be alluding to a
servant of the family, who had been sent to the hospital, when the lady
I had accompanied exclaimed, "Poor dear little creature." This somewhat
puzzled me, and whilst I was pondering on what it could all mean, the
other lady observed, "It is such a nice affectionate animal," and at
last I found out it was a dog which excited so much sympathy.

I have also observed the same kind consideration towards their horses,
and remember once seeing the driver of a cabriolet take off his great
coat to cover his horse with it, and certainly at present I do not
perceive any practical proof of what used to be said of Paris, that it
was a "hell for horses, and a heaven for women," and as to the latter
case it is very evident that the females work much more than they do in
England, particularly amongst the middle-classes; accounts being
strictly attended to in the course of their education, enables them to
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