Adventures of the Ojibbeway and Ioway Indians in England, France, and Belgium; Vol. 2 (of 2): being Notes of Eight Years' Travels and Residence in Europe with his North American Indian CollectionCatlin, George
History
Adventures of the Ojibbeway and Ioway Indians in England, France, and Belgium; Vol. 2 (of 2): being Notes of Eight Years' Travels and Residence in Europe with his North American Indian Collection
Catlin, George
England -- Description and travel; France -- Description and travel; Indians of North America
The garden of plants was amusement enough for an hour or so, and then
to the _Halle aux Vins_ in the immediate neighbourhood. This grand
magazine of _chickabobboo_ has been described by many writers, and
no doubt seen by many who read, but few have seen the expression of
amazement upon the brows of a party of wild Indians from the forest
of America, while their eyes were running over the vast and almost
boundless lines of 800,000 casks of wine under one roof, and heard the
piercing war-whoop echoing and vibrating through their long avenues,
raised at the startling information that 20,000,000 of gallons of this
are annually drawn out of this to be drunk in the city of Paris; and
few of those who heard it knew whether it was raised to set the wine
running, or as a note of exultation that they had found a greater
fountain of _chickabobboo_ than the brewery they were in, in London.
However true the latter was, the first was supposed to have been the
design, and it must needs have its effect. A few bottles, in kindness
and hospitality cracked, cooled all parched and parching lips, and our
faithful timepieces told us our engagement with the public was at hand,
and we laid our course again for the _Salle Valentino_.
"Oh! what a glorious country," said Jim, as we were rolling along;
"there's nothing like that in London: the _chickabobboo_ is better
here, and there's more of it too." Poor ignorant fellow! he was not
aware that the brewery they saw in London was only one of some dozens,
and that the wine in all those casks they had just seen was not quite
as delicious as that with which his lips had just been moistened.
With their recollections dwelling on the scenes they had witnessed in
London, they were naturally drawing comparisons as they were wending
their way back; and they had in this mood taken it into their heads
that there were no gin-shops in Paris, as they could see none, which
was quite mysterious to them, until I explained to them the nature of
the cafés, the splendid open shops they were every moment passing,
glittering with gold and looking-glasses. They were surprised to learn
that the delicious poison was dealt out in these neat "palaces," but
which they had not known or suspected the meaning of. They admitted
their surprise, and at once decided that "they liked the free, and
open, and elegant appearance of them much better than those in London,
where they are all shut up in front with great and gloomy doors, to
prevent people from looking into them, as if they were ashamed."
The cemetery of Père la Chaise was next to be seen as soon as there
should be a fine day: that day arrived, and half an hour's drive landed
us at its entrance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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