looked at a series of sketches the thought came to him that he himself
could do better.

This gave him courage, and stepping inside the door he set down his bag
and told the astonished shopkeeper that the pictures in the window were
very bad--he could paint better ones--would the proprietor not hire him
to paint pictures? He would work cheap, and labor faithfully.

He was hastily hustled out into the street--to harbor lunatics was
dangerous.

So he trudged on--looking for the Louvre.

Night came and the search was without reward.

Seeing a sign of "Apartments for single gentlemen," he applied and was
shown a modest room that seemed within his means. The landlady was very
kind; in fact, she knew people at Gruchy and had often been to
Cherbourg--her uncle lived there.

Jean Francois felt relieved to find that even in busy, bustling,
frivolous Paris there were friendly people; and when the kind lady
suggested that pickpockets in the streets were numerous, and that he had
better give his money over to her for safekeeping, he handed out his
store of three hundred francs without question.

He never saw his money again.

The next day he still sought the Louvre--not caring to reveal his
ignorance by asking the way.