et
on the Avenue des Champs Elysees, in Paris, my young friend Herbert
J----.

After many desolate days of wind and rain and falling leaves, the city
had thrown off her wet rags, so to speak, and arrayed herself in the
gorgeous apparel of one of the most golden and perfect Sundays of the
season. "All the world" was out of doors. The Boulevards, the Bois de
Boulogne, the bridges over the Seine, all the public promenades and
gardens, swarmed with joyous multitudes. The Champs Elysees, and the
long avenue leading up to the Barriere de l'Etoile, appeared one mighty
river, an Amazon of many-colored human life. The finest July weather had
not produced such a superb display; for now the people of fashion, who
had passed the summer at their country-seats, or in Switzerland, or
among the Pyrenees, reappeared in their showy equipages. The tide, which
had been flowing to the Bois de Boulogne ever since two o'clock, had
turned, and was pouring back into Paris. For miles, up and down, on
either side of the city-wall, extended the glittering train of vehicles.
The three broad, open gateways of the Barriere proved insufficient
channels; and far as you could see, along the Avenue de l'Imperatrice,
stood three seemingly endless rows of carriages, closely crowded, unable
to advance, waiting for the Barriere de l'Etoile to discharge its
surplus living waters. Detachments of the mounted city guard, and long
lines of police, regulated the flow; while at the Barriere an extra
force of customhouse officers fulfilled the necessary formality of
casting an eye of inspection into each vehicle as it passed, to see that
nothing was smuggled.

Just below the Barriere, as I was moving with the stream of pedestrians,
I met Herbert. He turned and took my arm. As he did so, I noticed that
he lifted his bran-new Parisian hat towards heaven, saluting with a
lofty flourish one of the carriages that passed the gate.

It was a dashy barouche, drawn by a glossy-black span, and occupied by
two ladies and a lapdog. A driver on the box, and a footman perched
behind, both in livery,--long coats, white gloves, and gold bands on
their hats,--completed the establishment The ladies sat facing each
other, and their mingled, effervescing skirts and flounces filled the
cup of the vehicle quite to over-foaming, like a Rochelle powder, nearly
drowning the brave spaniel, whose sturdy little nose was elevated, for
air, just above the surge.

Both ladies recognized my f