idea! Our dinner even more than usually ridiculous by the number of little _plats_--a regular doll’s; liqueurs of sorts, all very bad, in cruet-bottles--aniseed the only one drinkable. In the evening entertained by the singing of the Nassau troops stationed here. Bad news from Paris. In the next room a party of London shop-boys, or some such thing. One of these, pretty drunk, wanted to be called in the morning, and as our doors were open, we had the full benefit and advantage of the fine language propounded to the waiter: “Garçon! mon domestique à cinq heure et demie.” Garçon does not comprehend; tries over and over again. “Je ne vous comprends pas, monsieur, se fait entendre toujours.” At last impatient, “Well, dammee, ’tis simply this, my man: tell my servant to call me at half-past five o’clock.” We went to our bedroom ere the matter was settled. The French seem to think nothing of damp sheets--ours were actually wet. _10th._--Our host gave us a most comfortable breakfast, after which we set off in high spirits for Paris; the day fine and scenery lovely. Whilst changing horses at Luzarches, some non-commissioned officers of the Belgic or Nassau troops stationed there were exceedingly impertinent to F., but I had no time to obtain redress, so left them. After passing Pierrefitte, made our postilion turn off the chaussée spite of his objections, and attempt to reach Stain; but we soon found the cross-road so bad, nearly smashing our wheels, that we were glad to regain the chaussée. Whilst stopping at the post-house at St Denis, Frazer and Ambrose rode up. From them we learned that old Webber had made my house very comfortable; so determined not to stay in Paris, but to give up our cabriolet, and return forthwith to Stain. This we accordingly did, driving straight to the Remise, Rue Faubourg St Denis, where we hired a fiacre, and reached Stain about dusk. It was a cold gloomy evening. The story of comfort was exaggerated. Webber had hired some little, shabby, old furniture; but the place looked wretched, and when F. became fully aware of its discomforts, her enthusiasm gave way like snow before the sun; she burst into tears. The heroics vanished, and she confessed she wished herself again in England. The room had indeed a most forlorn appearance: a handful of fire flickered in the grateless, gaping chimney; the little furniture was of the coarsest kind; the uncarpeted floor of brick;--desolation everywhere! We had had no dinner, and, except some ration-beef, nothing could be procured. Some of this, however, was cooked and despatched; and, as the best thing we could do, we set to work putting to rights, and making the most of it. Nothing could equal the surprise of Madlle. Rose at finding that the smooth-faced bourgeois was indeed the identical mustachioed commandant she had been accustomed to months ago. Next morning found a poultry-yard--rabbits, &c., all provided by the attentions of old Robertson, my quartermaster-sergeant.