'A TRAVELLER'S TALES' 



187 



garfon and other strange names. I wanted to 

 fight at once ; I was not going to be abused by 

 any Frenchman. But a very trifling amount of 

 bloodshed soon convinced me that they were good 

 fellows, and that what I had taken for abuse was 

 only their welcome in a strange language, so we 

 became great friends, talking at first by signs. 



' I found myself eventually once more under- 

 ground in the fashionable sewers of Paris, where 

 the life was as gay and sparkling as any rat could 

 wish to enjoy. The manners of the upper world 

 soon filter downwards, so you must not blame me, 

 old sober-sides, if we cast care to the winds. So 

 effectually did we eat the candle at both ends, and 

 even in the middle as well, that in a couple of 

 months I was a wreck, and felt that a breath of 

 sea-air was the only thing that could save me. I 

 managed to crawl to the water's edge, and stowed 

 myself away on a barge or some such ungainly 

 craft — I was far too ill to notice very carefully the 

 nature of the vessel — and after drifting for some 

 time in a leisurely way down the waters of the 

 Seine, I changed ship once more, and found myself 

 again in England, cured indeed in health, but a 

 vagabond and a wanderer at heart, and utterly 

 unable to settle down to a quiet life at home. 



