m, and on her
head a frilled and fluted muslin cap which was an irresistible
advertisement of her art. To say that my admirable _blanchisseuse_ was
_sober_ is altogether too gross a compliment; but I was always grateful
to her for her russet cheek, her frank, expressive eye, her talkative
smile, for the way her charming cap was poised upon her crisp, dense
hair and her well-made dress was fitted to her well-made waist. I talked
with her; I _could_ talk with her; and as she talked she moved about and
laid out her linen with a delightful modest ease. Then her light step
carried her off again, talking, to the door and with a brighter smile
and an "Adieu, monsieur!" she closed it behind her, leaving one to think
how stupid is prejudice and how poetic a creature a washerwoman may be.
London, in December, was livid with sleet and fog, and against this
dismal background was offered me the vision of a horrible old woman in
a smoky bonnet, lying prone in a puddle of whisky! She seemed to assume
a kind of symbolic significance, and she almost frightened me away.

I mention this trifle, which is doubtless not creditable to my
fortitude, because I found that the information given me was not
strictly accurate and that at the end of three months I had another
array of London Sundays to face. On this occasion however nothing
occurred to suggest again the dreadful image I have just sketched,
though I devoted a good deal of time to observing the manners of the
lower orders. From Good Friday to Easter Monday, inclusive, they were
very much _en evidence_, and it was an excellent occasion for getting an
impression of the British populace. Gentility had retired to the
background and in the West End all the blinds were lowered; the streets
were void of carriages and well-dressed pedestrians were rare; but the
"masses" were all abroad and making the most of their holiday, and I
strolled about and watched them at their gambols. The heavens were most
unfavorable, but in an English "outing" there is always a margin left
for a drenching, and throughout the vast smoky city, beneath the
shifting gloom of the sky the grimy crowds trooped about with a kind of
weather-proof stolidity. The parks were full of them, the railway
stations overflowed and the Thames embankment was covered. The "masses,"
I think, are usually an entertaining spectacle, even when observed
through the glutinous medium of London bad weather. There are indeed few
things in their w