, to add further to its reputation, it is but a few kilometres
away from La Ferte-Milon, where Racine was born, and only eight
leagues from Chateau-Thierry, the birthplace of La Fontaine.

We had made up our minds to breathe as much of the spirit and
atmosphere of Villers-Cotterets as was possible in a short time, and
accordingly we settled down for the night at the Hotel Alexandre
Dumas. The name of the hotel is unusual. There may be others similar,
but the writer does not recall them at this moment. It was not bad,
and, though entitled to be called a grand establishment, it was not
given to pomposity or pretence, and we parted with regret, for we had
been treated most genially by the proprietor and his wife, and served
by a charming young maid, who, we learned, was the daughter of the
house. It was all in the family, and because of that everything was
excellently done.

There are fragments of a royal chateau here, begun by Francois I. in
one of his building manias. His salamanders and the three crescents
of Diane de Poitiers still decorate its walls, and accordingly it is
a historical shrine of the first rank, though descended in these
later days to use as a poorhouse.

The chateau and forest of Villers-Cotterets were settled upon
Monsieur le Grand by Louis XIV., after they had sheltered many
previous royal loves, but in the days of the later monarchy, that of
Philippe Egalite, the place was used merely as a hunting rendezvous.

The Dumas birthplace is an ordinary enough and dismal-looking
building from the street. As usual in France, there is another
structure in the rear, the real birthplace, no doubt, but one gets
only a glimpse through the open door or gate. Carrier-Belleus's fine
statue of Dumas, erected here in 1885, is all that a monument of its
class should be, and is the pride of the local inhabitant, who, when
passing, never tires of stopping and gazing at its outlines. This may
be a little exaggeration, but there is a remarkable amount of
veneration bestowed upon it by all dwellers in the town.

We went from Villers-Cotterets direct to Soissons, the home of the
beans of that name. We do not know these medium-sized flat beans as
_soissons_ in America and England; to us they are merely beans; but
to _soissons_ they are known all over France, and in the mind and
taste of the epicure there is no other bean just like them. This may
be so or not, but there is no possible doubt whatever but that
"_soissons a