is unlike that of London. The air is pure, the sky serene, and the whole
city is full of gardens and promenades. The little out-of-door theaters
reap harvests of money--the tricksters, the conjurors, the street
fiddlers, and all sorts of men who get their subsistence by furnishing
the people with cheap amusements, are in high spirits, for in these
seasons they can drive a fine business. Not so in the winter. Then they
are obliged either to wander over the half-deserted _places_, gathering
here and there a sou, or shut themselves up in their garret or cellar
apartments, and live upon their summer gains. To the stranger who must
be economical, Paris in the winter is not to be desired, for fuel is
enormously high in that city. A bit of wood is worth so much cash, and a
log which in America would be thrown away, would there be worth a little
fortune to a poor wood-dealer.

The country around Paris is scarcely worth a visit in the winter or
early spring months, but in the summer it is far different. I remember a
little walk I took one day past the fortifications. When I came to the
walls of the city, I was obliged to pass through a narrow gate. All who
enter the city are inspected, for there is a heavy duty upon provisions
of nearly all kinds which are brought from the provinces into Paris. The
duty upon wines is very heavy. Upon a bottle of cheap wine, which costs
in the country but fifteen sous, there is a gate-duty of five sous.
This is one reason why the poor people of Paris on _fete_ days, crowd to
the country villages near Paris. There they can eat and drink at a much
cheaper rate than in town, besides having the advantage of pure air and
beautiful scenery. I witnessed an amusing sight at this gate. A man was
just entering from the country. He was very large in the abdominal
regions, so much so that the gate-keeper's suspicions were aroused, and
he asked the large traveler a few leading questions. He protested that
he was innocent of any attempt to defraud the revenues of Paris. The