AN OCTOBER ABEOAD 197 



pause to have a look. You begin at the end near- 

 est you, and, after gazing a moment, take a step to 

 run your eye along the dazzling display, when, 

 presto! the trays of watches and diamonds vanish 

 in a twinkling, and you find yourself looking into 

 the door, or your delighted eyes suddenly bring up 

 against a brick wall, disenchanted so quickly that 

 you almost stagger. 



I went into a popular music and dancing hall one 

 night, and found myself in a perfect enchantment 

 of mirrors. Not an inch of wall was anywhere 

 visible. I was suddenly caught up into the seventh 

 heaven of looking-glasses, from which I came down 

 with a shock the moment I emerged into the street 

 again. I observed that this mirror contagion had 

 broken out in spots in London, and, in the narrow 

 and crowded condition of the shops there, even this 

 illusory enlargement would be a relief. It might 

 not improve the air, or add to the available storage 

 capacity of the establishment, but it would certainly 

 give a wider range to the eye. 



The American no sooner sets foot on the soil of 

 Prance than he perceives he has entered a nation 

 of drinkers as he has left a nation of eaters. Men 

 do not live by bread here, but by wine. Drink, 

 drink, drink everywhere, — along all the boulevards, 

 and streets, and quays, and byways; in the restau- 

 rants and under awnings, and seated on the open 

 sidewalk ; social and convivial wine-bibbing, — not 

 hastily and in large quantities, but leisurely and 

 reposingly, and with much conversation and enjoy- 

 ment. 



