■¥OBKEf>. 
244 
OUR EUROPEAN LETTER. 
i 
Crossing the English Channel. 
PoiSSV, France, Sept. 7, 1872. 
If the English Channel were a thousand times 
wider than it is, the difierence between the in¬ 
habitants of England and France could hardly 
be greater than now. Nature herself In this di¬ 
viding gull, seems to protest in one endless flow 
of angry, turbulent speech, against" ‘’■• v ***rnal 
boud between the two lands. The ~ -- 
channel, spiteful and revengeful, = ' 5 = 
seems to have ttnbibcd the rancor, 
hate and envy of cento ri -s. Cross is=_ss 
it when you may, you will not be 
apt to write the record in red let- 
ters. We crossed from New Ha- 1 ^ ^= 
ven to Dieppe in the night, and ~ — as§ 
hada smoo'h voyageof six hours. ~ ^ 
But whether from total depravity 
or a sense of marine duty, every ~— s s 
inmate of the ladies’ saloon be- 
came “deathly sen-sick'' before -=— =g 
wo wore hall’ way over—except = ==—_== 
m.vself. Rut sea-siekness would g=g|g|g 
hardly have been worse than tho _ — . 5 == 
torture I endured from sights 
and sounds and smells. My only p- - ^ 
salvation was a port-hole, and 
that played mo false. It invited ~ ^ 
the sea to como In, and it came 1 = — - -s s 
and emhraoed me with a barrel 1 —_ 
or so of tears. 
In Dleope. 
Wo reached Dieppe at tho im- > ^== 5 =^ 4 ^^ : 
poetical hour of 4 o'clock in the { gs~_ _ 
morning. Upon reaching the | =s=j— 
steamer's deck, whom should wo j 
find complacently regarding tho \- 
harbor through the mist, but an ^ 
American acquaintance, wearing |L ^ 
the conventional stove pipo hat, 1 = 
which all Americans abroad wear f 
from fear of being taken for a 3 ;^^ 
“Commercial Traveler." Our 
cultivated countryman, speaking 
French “like a native," and be- 
ing, fortunately for us, one or tho 
few men who are a, help and a 
comfort instead of tho reverse, 
proved a most agreeable addition k!j^Jigggr=gg 
to our party of two damsels In 
doing Dieppe. 
Fresh from the brilliancy and 
neatness of Brighton, wo found 
tho antiquity, filth and somber- 
ness of Dieppe too much of a §3j§g»|ji8 
change to be specially enjoyed. I 
do not object to q uuint old t lungs, ||s|i 
but I have an Ineradicable antip¬ 
athy to dirt, and especially to 
French dirt. Sewers ran through VjgfrSSfgSB 
the narrow, stone-paved streets, 
and mold and moss draped the j§Sa52gjliS 
roofs and walls of the gray stone sSEgag: 
buildings. Every other shop wo 
found to be a place for the sale SS 
of Ivory articles, carved in the gj§~gj| 
most exquslte manner. TheCa- 
thedral, old us METHP3Ar.nn, was EyjS 
ornate with “flying buttresses." 
As flying buttresses still keep us IlMF 
company, and are a perpetual 
source or wonder and astonishment, I shall not 
be content to pass them by without a special de¬ 
scription. And yet, alas! they cannot be de¬ 
scribed. But imagine, if you can, beams of 
stone protruding from the various sides of a 
church roof, the projections carved in forms to 
simulate the most domonisb “beast, or woman, 
ghoul or human,” with angry mouths snapping 
at you, and yet with an attitude and expression 
as if the beasts were in t he agonies of colic, and 
you may form a crude opinion or ecclesiastical 
architecture In France. i 
Everybody who visits Dieppe is supposed to 
do so for the sake of sea bathing; and the bath¬ 
ing neighborhood is the pleasantest part of the < 
lown. The streets near it are clean, the hotels 1 
bright, and wholesome, tie? shops attractive, ami ‘ 
the accommodations for lounging excellent. 1 
The bath houses are small frames covered with 1 
linen canvas. The occupant is carried in them 1 
to the water's edge and hack if desired, and men c 
bathersare abundant who look after the women f 
and children In the surf. 1 
At Rouen. 
We left Dieppe in time to spend Sunday in '' 
Rouen, which city we found to he tho incarna¬ 
tion of greatness and elegance. A statue of 1 
Cohneieee reminded us that it. was his birth 1 
place; aslreetand boulevard named for Jeanne 
D'Arc recalled the unhappy fact of the city be- I 
ing also tho place of her martyrdom. One might h 
live forever in Rouen and be happy, if sea and I 
river, gardens, flowers, magnificent churches, p 
and the wholesome hum of industry yield con- n 
tent. But the Sabbath in France and 1 he same it 
day in America are widely different. Here shops o 
are open, looms spin and weave, traffic and trade F 
are indulged in the same as upon any other day. n 
Sunday is just like Monday. People go to p 
church, say mass, cross themselves with “holy !i 
water" and return to their shops. The church- hi 
esare always open—as indeed they should be a 
everywhere—so that upon any and every day, ly 
and at any hour one can enter for worship or hi 
prayer. The supreme feature of that Sunday g< 
at Rouen was the ascent of a balloon which gave gc 
the city the appearanoe of the Judgment Day Ik 
Tho long bridge over the Seine, tho streets and 
the river shore were black with people gazing 
heavenward. 
A Frenchman's Views. 
During my stay in Rouen I was attacked, con¬ 
versationally, by a French gentleman of marked 
intelligence, who spoke English tolerably well, 
and who was a brother-in-law to one of the most 
delightful, as well ns profound French Authors. 
Ho declared Victor Hitoo to be a snob, no in¬ 
citer of disturbances, nnd Lotus Beano n man 
without brains. lie said the general opinion of 
Americans in Franco was that the former al¬ 
ways went armed, and that if any one dared to 
liistle or do anything offensive, ho was at once 
through offices, manned by women. We found 
our landlady a handsome young woman with an 
air of the most perfect taste and neatness, from 
her stylishly coiffured hair to the ends of her 
French slippers, including her snowy petticoat 
with its border of fluted cambric. Hho showed 
us one apartment after another, all lilt by be¬ 
yond anything I have over seen in America. As 
we could do no better that night,, we concluded 
to choose tho least evil of the evils. We Wont 
down to dinner, found small tables. snowy r imp- 
ery, immense damask napkins, a most polite at¬ 
tendant, and a very good dinner. 
Cost of Living. 
*Tbe next day we tnvcct’trated the town for 
INFANCY P’UOJVI THK PICTIMtE 
HlJi JO.SMLIA. REYNOLDS. 
brought CM a tf* to a revolver und requested to 
stop or yield his life. His opinion of American 
polities and politicians was equally amusing. 
An American politician ho fancied to be a rnan 
without moral principle, withoutsoclal position, 
possessing a low sort of cunning, and who ac¬ 
cepted an election to Congress as the natural 
result, of his depraved condition — an opinion 
which I was forced to confess was not far from 
the truth. He confessed to liking Americans 
very much, but thought of all the wild things 
in the world, the fact of two unattended young 
women “doing” Europe was the wildest, as 
Europe was not America; and of all the Lord's 
creation the one thing to be guarded against 
was a Frenchman! I expressed surprise at his 
opinion of his countrymen, but lie only reitera¬ 
ted his statement which, coupled with what I 
have been told hi’ others, would, if I were not 
the strongest minded and strongest hearted 
of women, fill me with fear and incline me to 
flee this villainous hind at once. But ns yet I 
have no such intention; and as I usually go 
ai med with an umbrella, Sat.ey Brass fashion, 
and have sufficient command of one tongue and 
two languages to rid myself of everything ani¬ 
mate, except French fleas, my faith remains 
unabated. 
Poissy 
Is a very oid town, of four or five thousand in¬ 
habitants. It is an hour's ride or less from 
Paris,and the people are entirely composed of the 
peasant and middle dassse. We have been hero 
nearly a fortnight, resting, studying and observ¬ 
ing the habits and manners of the domestic file 
of the people about us. As ir is thoroughly 
French in all of its characteristics, am. its near¬ 
ness to Paris giving it. relative importance, a 
picture of Poissy gives one a correct view of 
life everywhere in Normandy. Upon arriving 
here we went at once to the best hotel, kept by 
a woman. French women, by thewny, urc vast¬ 
ly ahead of their American sisters in filling 
business offices. We buy railway tickets, dry 
goods, boots and shoes, crockery, hardware, 
groceries, farm produce, eto., of women, settle 
hotel biiis with, and send teirgrams and letters 
clean apartments and had I he guidance of Prov¬ 
idence. We engaged a suite of three rooms, 
completely furnished for two I'nint’s (forty eta.) 
a day. The floors are of painted brick, with a 
large nmt in tho center, and other smaller ones 
in front of large pieces ol' furniture. One room 
is a complete kitchen with all arrangements for 
the cuisine, and had we need of lire wc should 
do our own cooking. As it is, our hostess sends 
up our breakfast, we furnish our own luncheon 
mid go to the hotel for dinner. Everywhere in 
France wc pay for what wc have, except at the 
table, d'hote, which is a dinner of eight or ten 
courses, beginning at a fixed hour, with the 
people seated about long tables. Here at Poissy, 
which is a town too small for table d'hote, we pay 
for bread, ft cents; bottle of wine,20 cents; but¬ 
ter, 10 cents; vegetables, (potatoes or beans) 10 
cents; artichoke, 10 cents; fried Ash, (tiny fish, 
about the size of one’s little finger, eaten head 
and tail,l 00 cents; mutton cutlet,30cents; roust 
heel, 40 cents; soup, 12 cents: mushrooms, 10 
cents; salad, 12 cents the foregoing for two. 
An excellent peach or pear costs four or five 
cents; a quart of, milk four cents. ? 
A French lady laughed heartily upon being 
told ot what an American breakfast consists. 
The French have two breakfasts,one soon after 
rising, and the other at noon, which is the dijeu- 
ner a' Ux fourclieUe (breakfast with fork) and 
consists or a moderate repast of eggs, or meat 
and vegetables. The ea rly breakfast consists of 
coffee, or chocolate and bread, and may he par¬ 
taken of in one's sleeping room, in the garden 
or dining room. A gill of coffee, which is black 
as ink, but perfectly clear, suffices for a num¬ 
ber of persons. From a large pitcher one pours 
hut, cooked milk into bowls, which are supplied 
with tablespoons. To this is added a little of 
the black coffee, which is cold, sugar if you like, 
and which constitutes cafe'-au-lo'it, The sugar, 
rnndeof beets, is manufactured in oblong pieces 
and is very nice. Bread in shapo of the Ameri¬ 
can loaf is quite unknown. There are the Jong 
loaves, a yard long and but three or four inches 
iu diameter, and the short, slender loaf, or the 
Small, round loaf, large enough to constitute a 
1 breakfast for one person. Butter comes to mnr- 
1 ket entirely fresh, and one adds salt to suit the 
i taste as ho oats it. It is made fresh every day 
r or two. 
t The Fronch Dinner. 
1 The meal of tho day, is served laic, from six to 
- nine o’clock. At this meal wine is thoonly bov- 
9 orago. Everybody drinks it. To drink a glass 
1 <>r water is an event. Ice water Is unknown, 
t Butter is rarely used al early breakfast or dinner. 
- Bread is broken Instead of being cut—broken 
- with the fingers into size suitable for the mouth 
—dispensing With the habit of biting it off with 
the teeth. I never ate in A tnerica fried potatoes 
r ennui to such ns wc have here. During a fete 
I . held hero a few days ago I ob- 
I served the process in one of tho 
bazaars. There were pots of fat 
(lard) intensely hot, hanging over 
Are; near by sal, a man peeling 
And slicing potatoes. These slices, 
the thickness of Ordinary paste¬ 
board, were thrown in the fat, and 
I presently skimmed out as light 
I nnd fluffy as French pm try; of 
course eaten hot. The secret, if 
any, lies in the hotness of the fat. 
French Bulldlngsand Cardens. 
As everything in France is built 
of stone, and built for all lime, 
the majority of the houses are 
old, and, externally, present a 
gray, and rather forbidding as¬ 
pect. O.no secs nothing of tho 
liveliness and freshness of white 
houses with green blinds, and 
gardens smiling through open 
fences. Hero the house and gar¬ 
den are everywhere intfosed in 
high stone walls of solid masonry. 
A gate of trim bars affords you 
the only glimpse of the interior. 
This makes every village a walled 
town. But forbidding as the out¬ 
side may be, nr tantalizing as it 
may be, with the luxurious vines 
tumbling over streetward, tho in¬ 
side is glorious. So everybody 
lives In Jlie garden, oats, rends, 
sews und receives her friend in 
her garden. Thus far I have de¬ 
sired nothing so much as to show 
every American farmer or land 
owner the beauty, and epecially 
the use of tho French garden. 
One Is as retired in the garden as 
the house. Tho parlor opens into 
it. There are tables of painted 
iron; footstools, chairs and 
benches the rain cannot damage. 
There is u well in the center. A t 
one side a house for garden tools. 
Studios of brick have been built 
in tho comnrs to gratify tho use 
or furtny of various members of 
tho family. There are a few largo 
trees, which, with the wall and 
house, always furnish abundant 
shade. On the wall urc trained 
not only ornamental vines and 
grape vines, but poach, pear and 
plum trees—now loaded with 
fruit. Tho garden comprises eve¬ 
rything all kinds of fruit, bodsof 
vegetables, garden sauce, flower 
[jDS. beds bordered with Box, Vio¬ 
lets or Polyanthus; there are 
clumps of Lilacs, mounds of snowy Clematis, 
spikes of Bcarlet Gladlolua, rose trees full of 
Roses, boxes of house plants, vases of Asters or 
Cacti. Of course such a garden is not made in a 
day, but as r sit in one us I write—an earthly 
Parndtso — I feel like exclaiming with the 
Methodist preachers In a revival, “Oh! why 
longer delay !” 
Lot me take you Into the parlor. It is a small 
room. Everything is neighborly. The floor of 
inlaid wood is waved. There are bright mats 
here and there. Tho seats are low no two 
alike. Tho upholstering is in Summer attire, 
all under snow-white linen covers, with narrow 
ruffles at the seams, which the laundress has 
fluted. In the Winter theoovering Ir gaily-flow¬ 
ered chintz. There is a cabinet (upright) piano. 
I have not seen a square piano in France. There 
are a few prints on the wall, but you hardly ob¬ 
serve anything but the quantities or flowers 
everywhere. On tho center fable are Asters in 
luxuriant bloom. The pot In which they grow 
ts placed inside a largo ornamental vase, and 
tho space between Is filled around with clumps 
of cut flowers. Oblong boxes of Asters, Zin¬ 
nias, Begonias, or Pansies, sheathed In clean 
paper cases, or hidden in ornamental boxes, 
stand on mantels, tables, or brackets, or hang in 
the windows. Magnificent boqiiots ol' Dahlias, 
double Hollyhocks and double Sunflowers are 
massed in their bold beauty in a corner. Thero 
are no satin sofas, velvet, carpets or tawdry pic¬ 
tures. But the place Is heavenly, and hut few 
too poor to have one like it. Wherever one 
turns, no matter how dirty tho street or alley, 
or poor and dirty the houses, the windows will 
lie full of flowers, flowers everywhere. The 
French have no Sabbath— God pity them! but 
they have flowers -Gojj bless them I 
French Farming 
has its peculiarities. From Rouen to Poissy the 
country, agriculturally, jg magnificent. France 
has not. tin-stiffness and primness of England. 
Everything seems done with a view to effect. 
Forests are trimmed. Trees arc left standing 
or are planted in rows. For miles a fence was 
not to bo seen, save the hedge rows each side of 
