ask a boy to show you the way, his manner of doing
it would grace a drawing room. I am told that the French are never
severe with their children; that the French nature will not bear it;
that strong excitement makes the children ill; that the law of love is
the only one they will bear.

Stop with me now on our walk, at this little low cart, just by the
sidewalk; it is as you see larger than a common handcart, and much
lower, and on four small wheels; it is full of china, all marked 13
sous. See how pretty these cups and saucers are. After your looking at
all the pieces, the owner would say, "Bon jour" very kindly to you, if
you took nothing, but we will take this pretty cup and saucer; as a
remembrance of his little cart. As we walk along, we shall see many
others, containing every thing you can imagine.

I bought many things in the streets,--combs, saucepans,
clothes-brushes, &c. Look into this shop window; see these lovely
flowers, and, in the midst of them, a small fountain is playing all the
time to keep them fresh. Look at those immense bunches in the
windows,--of pansies, violets, hyacinths of all colors, ixias, wall
flowers, tulips, geraniums, narcissus; and O, this is not half the
variety of flowers! look into the shop; there are bushels of them and
other flowers, all ranged round the wall; the perfume salutes the most
insensible passer-by; it tells of the songs of birds, and of the
delights of summer time. You cannot resist its influence. Let us go in
and look at the flowers. The person who keeps the shop has the manners
of a lady; she wishes you good morning; and, if you do not behave just
as you would if you entered a lady's parlor, you are set down as an
American or Englishman, who does not know how to behave. When you leave
the shop also, you must remember to say, "Bon jour," or you commit an
offence. How kindly the lady who keeps this flower shop shows us all
her flowers! how she seems to love them, as if they were her children!
We must get a bouquet to show our gratitude for her kindness, though
she would not demand it. At every street corner is a woman with a
basket of violets and evergreens. She offers them in such a pretty way,
taking care that you shall take their perfume. You cannot resist them.

Now, suppose we were taking a walk, some other morning. Before us is
the "Place de la Concorde," all glistening in the spring sunlight. See,
there, in the centre, is the Obelisk--a monument of the time of