The morning following, I get upon the vapouring boat to walk so far as Douvres. It was fine day--and, after I am recover myself of a malady of the sea, I walk myself about the shep, and I see a great mechanic of wood, with iron wheel, and thing to push up inside, and handle to turn. It seemed to be ingenuous, and proper to hoist great burdens. They use it for shoving the timber, what come down of the vessel, into the place; and they tell me it was call "Jaques in the _box_:" and I was very much please with the invention so novel. Very well. I go again promenade upon the board of the vessel, and I look at the compass, and little boy sailor come and sit him down, and begin to chatter like the little monkey. Then the man what turns a wheel about and about laugh, and say, "Very well, Jacques," but I not understand one word the little fellow say. So I make inquire, and they tell me he was "_box_ the compass." I was surprise, but I tell myself, "well, never mind;" and so we arrive at Douvres. I find myself enough well in the hotel, but as there has been no _table-d'hôte_, I ask for some dinner, and it was long time I wait: and so I walk myself to the customary house, and give the key to my portmanteau to the Douaniers, or excisemen, as you call, for them to see as I had not no smuggles in my equipage. Very well--I return at my hotel, and meet one of the waiters, who tell me (after I stand little moment to the door to see the world what pass by upon the top of a coach at the instant), "Sir," he say, "your dinner is ready." "Very well," I make response, "where was it?" "This way, sir," he answer, "I have put in a _box_ in the café room." "Well--never mind," I say to myself, "when a man himself finds in a stranger country, he must be never surprised. 'Nil admirari.' Keep the eyes opened, and stare at nothing at all."