AT MONTE CARLO.--_Angelina_ (_sentimentally_). Look, Edwin, how the dear palms are opening themselves instinctively to the golden air. _Edwin_ (_brutally remembering his losses at the table and the long hotel bill_). If you can show me any palm in the place, human or vegetable, which doesn't open itself instinctively to the golden air, I'll eat my hat! [_Angelina sighed profoundly, and Edwin opened his purse strings._ [Illustration: A SCENE AT THE "LUCULLUS" _Mrs. Blunderby._ "Now, my dear Monty, let me order the luncheon ar-la-Fraingsy. Gassong! I wish to begin--as we always do in Paris, my dears--with some _chef-d'[oe]uvres_--you understand--some _chef-d'[oe]uvres_." [_Emile, the waiter, is in despair. It occurs to him, however, presently that the lady probably means "Hors d'[oe]uvres," and acts accordingly._ ] [Illustration: 'ARRY AND 'ARRIET IN FRANCE "What's 'Rots'?" "Game."] BEAUTIES OF BOLOGNA Not those, along the route prescribed To see them in a hurry, Church, palace, gallery, described By worthy Mr. Murray. Nor those detailed as well by whom But Baedeker, the German; The choir, the nave, the font, the tomb, The pulpit for the sermon. No tourist traps which tire you out, A never-ending worry; Most interesting things, no doubt, Described by Mr. Murray. Nor yet, O gastronomic mind-- In cookery a boss, sage In recipes--you will not find, I mean Bologna sausage. Not beauties, which, perhaps, you class With your own special curry; Not beauties, which we must not pass If led by Mr. Murray. I sing--alas, how very ill!-- Those beauties of the city, The praise of whose dark eyes might fill A much more worthy ditty. O, Ladies of Bologna, who The coldest heart might flurry, I much prefer to study you Than Baedeker or Murray. Those guide-book sights no longer please; Three hours still, _tre ore_, I have to lounge and look at these _Bellissime signore_. Then slow express--South Western goes Much faster into Surrey-- Will take me off to other shows Described by Mr. Murray. But still, _Signore_, there will be, By your sweet faces smitten, One Englishman who came to see What Baedeker has written. Let Baedeker then see the lot In frantic hurry-scurry. I've found some beauties which are not Described by Mr. Murray. * * * OVERHEARD AT CHAMONIX.--_Stout British Matron_ (_in a broad British accent, to a slim diligence driver_). Êtes-vous la diligence? _Driver._ Non, madame, mais j'en suis le cocher. _Matron_ (_with conviction_). C'est la même chose; gardez pour moi trois places dans votre intérieur demain. [Illustration: UN BON MAUVAIS QUART D'HEURE (Waiting for one's bathing tent at the Dieppe casino)] [Illustration: "IN SUNNY NORMANDY" _First Tourist._ "I say, old chap, it smells pretty bad about here; it's the river, I suppose?" _Second Tourist._ "Yes--Seine _Inférieure_."] [Illustration: POP! POP!