At the three Kings at _Foussart_, suspecting there was a cat behind the bed in wait for my bird, I found, instead thereof, a little _narrow door_, which was artfully hid, and which opened into another room; and as I am sure the man is a cheat, I suspect too, that upon a _good occasion_, he would have made some _use_ of his little door. _Foussart_ is a small place, consisting only of three or four public houses. From thence to _Morret_, is three leagues, on which road is erected a noble pillar of oriental marble, in memory of the marriage of _Lewis_ the XVth. Soon after we passed this monument, we entered into the delightful forest of _Fontainbleau_; and passing three leagues to the center of it, we arrived at that ancient royal palace: it stands very low, and is surrounded by a great many fine pieces of water, which, however, render the apartments very damp. The King and royal family had been there six weeks, and were gone but ten days, and with them, all the furniture of the palace was also gone, except glasses, and a few pictures, of no great value. In a long, gallery are placed, on each side of the wall, a great number of stags' heads, carved in wood, and upon them are fixed the horns of stags and bucks, killed by the late, and former Kings; some of which are very _outre_, others singularly large and beautiful. _Fontainbleau_ is a good town, stands adjacent to the palace; and as the gardens, park, &c. are always open, it is a delightful summer residence. We staid a few days there, to enjoy the shady walks, and to see the humours of a great annual fair, which commenced the day after we arrived. All sorts of things are sold at this fair; but the principal business is done in the _wine way_, many thousand pieces of the inferior Burgundy wine being brought to this market. We made two little days' journey from _Fontainbleau_ to _Paris_, a town I entered with concern, and shall leave with pleasure.--As I had formerly been of some service to _Faucaut_ who keeps the _Hotel d'York_, when he lived in _Rue de Mauvais Garçon_ I went to this _famous Hotel_, which would have been more in character, if he had given it the name of his former street, and called it, _L'Hotel de Mauvais Garçon_ for it is an hospital of bugs and vermin: the fellow has got the second-hand beds of _Madame Pompadour_, upon his first floor, which he _modestly_ asks thirty _louis d'ors_ a month for! All the rest of the apartments are pigeon-holes, filled with fleas, bugs, and dirt; and should a fire happen, there is no way of escaping. Nothing should be more particularly attended to in _Paris_ than the security from fire, where so many, and such a variety of strangers, and their servants, are shut up at night, within one _Porte Cochere_. LETTER LII. PARIS.