Billy sed he'd had enough o' walkin' an' he wod'nt stir another peg till we gat a cab, soa aw put up mi finger an' one coom. Aw tried all th' French aw knew an' a gooid deeal o' th' English but he could'nt understand a word, soa aw wrate th' name o' th' place an' th' name o' th' street on a card an' gave it him an' he grinned like a Cheshire cat an' started off. It wor then we began to find aght what Payris wor like. We went throo one big archway at they call Arc de Triomphe de'Etoile, an' it fairly made us tremmel. Aw lukt at mi guide book, (an' yo can do th' same if yo have one,) an' gat to know all abaat it, an' what it had cost; aw cant say'at it seems varry useful but its varry ornamental. We rattled on throo bustlin streets whear th' shops wor palaces, an' ther wor soa mich to tak us fancy at we tuk noa noatice o' th' cab chap wol he pooled up suddenly ith' front ov a arched passage an' coom an' oppened th' door an' pointin to th' haase he mooationed us to get aght. But it wom't th' reight shop! 'Café du Nord,' wor printed up an 'Manchester House,' wor on a big sign an' 'English spoken,' wor i' big gold letters on th' winders but it wor nawther th' same place nor th' same street at we'd left ith' mornin. Aw gat aght to mak enquiries but Billy wod'nt stir. "Arnt ta baan to get aght?" aw sed. "Awst stir nooan wol yo find th' reight shop, awm varry comfortable here." Aw did'nt feel varry comfortable, but aw went inside to mak a few enquiries, but they mud as weel ha been Objibberaway Indians for ony sense aw could mak on em, they did plenty o' bowin an' scrapin an' hutchin up o' ther shoolders but that did'nt help me ony, soa aw gate hold o' one chap bi th' collar an' tuk him an' planted him opposite th' words 'English Spoken,' an' aw says, "Nah then, can ta read that?" "Wee, wee," he sed an' off he set, an' aw lukt for th' cab an' Billy but awd hard wark to find 'it for ther wor a craad o' fowk gethered raand an' th' driver wor stampin an' ravin away at Billy wol he fair fooamed at th' maath, an' aw felt thankful just then'at aw did'nt understand French, for my belief is at he wornt prayin for him to get aght but swearin at him for stoppin in, but Billy wor lainin back smookin a cigar an' seemed to be enjoyin it. "Sacrey mon dew!" he shaated at him. "Sacrey thisen, if tha wants," sed Billy, "awst nooan stir aght o' this wol tha finds th' reight shop; if tha connot find it awm sewer aw connot an' aw've trailed abaat wol awm stall'd."