he great stone bridges that lead across the Rhone. We went over
this bridge in splendid style. I could see far up and down the river,
and trains of wagons and multitudes of people going and coming on the
other bridges. The water in the river was running very swift. There were
some boats along the shore, but I don't see how the people could dare to
venture out in them in such a current.

"As soon as we had got over the bridge, we struck into a beautiful road
across the country, and the postilion cracked on faster and harder than
ever. We had five horses, three abreast before, and two behind. They
went upon the gallop, and the postilion kept cracking his whip about
them and over their ears all the time. I thought for a while that he was
whipping them; but when I leaned forward, so that I could look down and
see, I found that he did not touch them with his whip at all, but only
cracked the snapper about them, and shouted at them in French, to make
them go. The road was as hard and smooth as a floor, and it was almost
as white as a floor of marble.

"The country was very beautiful as long as we could see. There were no
fences, but there were beautiful fields on each side of the road,
divided into squares, like the beds of a garden, with all sorts of
things growing in them.

"Every now and then we came to a village. These villages were the
queerest looking places that you can imagine. They were formed of rows
of stone houses, close to each other and close to the street. They were
so close to the street, and the street was usually so narrow, that there
was scarcely room sometimes to pass through. I could almost shake hands
with the people looking out the second story windows. I cannot imagine
why they should leave the passage so narrow between the houses on such a
great road. If there were any people in the street of the village when
we went through, they had to back up against the wall when we passed
them, to prevent being knocked down.

"When we were going through any of these villages, the postilion drove
faster than ever. He would crack his whip, and cheer on his horses, and
make noise and uproar enough to frighten half the town.

"We went on in this way till it began to grow dark. The postilion handed
the lanterns up to the conductor, and he lighted them with some matches
that he carried in his pocket. The lanterns had reflectors in the back
of them, and were very bright. When the postilion put them back in their
pl