222 PROSERPINA. 



little telegraph bell establishes itself in my ears, and staya 

 there, trilling me at last into a shivering, suspicious sort of 

 sleep, which, with a few vaguely fretful shrugs and fidgets, 

 carries me as far as Tonnerre, where the ' quinze minutes 

 d'arret' revolutionize everything ; and I get a turn or two on 

 the platform, and perhaps a glimpse of the stars, with promise 

 of a clear morning ; and so generally keep awake past Mont 

 Bard, remembering the happy walks one used to have on the 

 terrace under Buffon's tower, and thence watching, if per- 

 chance, from the mouth of the high tunnel, any film of moon- 

 light may show the far undulating masses of the hills of 

 Citeaux. But most likely one knows the place where the 

 great old view used to be only by the sensible quickening of 

 the pace as the train turns down the incline, and crashes 

 through the trenched cliffs into the confusion and high clat- 

 tering vault of the station at Dijon. 



5. And as my journey is almost always in the spring-time, 

 the twisted spire of the cathedral usually shows itself against 

 the first grey of dawn, as we run out again southwards ; and 

 resolving to watch the sunrise, I fall more complacently asleep, 

 and the sun is really up by the time one has to change car- 

 riages, and get morning coffee at Macon. And from Ambe- 

 rieux, through the Jura valley, one is more or less feverishly 

 happy and thankful, not so much for being in sight of Mont 

 Blanc again, as in having got through the nasty and gloomy 

 night journey ; and then the sight of the Rhone and the 

 Saleve seems only like a dream, presently to end in nothing- 

 ness ; till, covered with dust, and feeling as if one never should 

 be fit for anything any more, one staggers down the hill to the 

 Hotel des Bergues, and sees the dirtied Rhone, with its new 

 iron bridge, and the smoke of a new factory exactly dividing 

 the line of the aiguilles of Chamouni. 



6. That is the journey as it is now, and as, for me, it must 

 be ; except on foot, since there is now no other way of making 

 it. But this was the way we used to manage it in old days : 



Very early in Continental transits we had found out that 

 the family travelling carriage, taking much time and ingenuity 

 to load, needing at the least three, usually four horses, and 



