Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, Volume 11, No. 23, February, 1873Various
Science
Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, Volume 11, No. 23, February, 1873
Various
Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Science -- Periodicals
While at Geneva our party separated for a few days. My friends
proposed making an expedition up the lake, while I arranged to spend
a day and night at Aix-les-Bains, a small town in the south of France.
My object in visiting it was not to enjoy the sulphur-baths for which
it is famous, but to see some friends who were spending the summer
there. I had written, telling them to expect me by the five o'clock
train on Wednesday afternoon. As my stay was to be so brief, I left
my valise at the hotel in Geneva, and found myself now, for the first
time, separated from that trusty sable friend which had until this
hour been my constant companion by day and night.
The train was just leaving the station when a lady sitting opposite to
me, with her back to the locomotive, asked, in French, if I would be
willing to change seats. Catching her meaning rather by her gestures
than words, I inquired in English if she would like my seat, and found
by her reply that I was traveling with an English lady.
I should here explain that although I had studied the French language
as part of my education, I found it impossible to speak French with
any fluency or understand it when spoken. My newly-made friend,
however (for friend she proved herself), spoke French and English with
equal fluency.
In the process of comparing notes (so familiar to all travelers)
mention was made of the recent war and the unwonted strictness and
severity of the custom-house officials. In an instant my hand was upon
my pocket-book, only to find that I had neglected to take my passport
from my valise.
The embarrassment of the situation flashed upon me, and my troubled
countenance revealed to my companion that something unusual had
occurred. I answered her inquiring look by saying that I had left my
passport in Geneva. Her immediate sympathy was only equaled by her
evident alarm. She said there was but one thing to be done--return
instantly for it. I fully agreed with her, but found, to my dismay,
upon consulting a guide-book, that our train was an express, which did
not stop before reaching Belgarde, the frontier-town.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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