me. It was but a short walk from this place to the hotel.
About six o'clock the children arrived at the hotel, and the table was
already set for dinner. Mr. Holiday was reclining on a couch in the
room, and Mrs. Holiday had been reading to him. Rollo's uncle George was
also in the room. Mrs. Holiday laid down her book when the children came
in. Rollo and Jennie sat down upon a sofa, not far from their father's
couch. They were glad to rest.

"Well, children," said Mrs. Holiday, "have you had a pleasant walk?"

"Yes," said Rollo, "a very pleasant walk indeed. We have seen a great
many very curious things. But I believe we made a mistake."

"What mistake?" asked Mrs. Holiday.

"Why, we followed a great many people that we thought were going to
church; but, instead of that, they led us into a great place that I
think was some sort of circus."

Here Mr. George looked up very eagerly and began to laugh.

"I declare!" said he. "I shouldn't wonder if you got into the
Hippodrome."

"I don't know what it was," said Rollo. "When we first went in we saw
that it was not a church; but we did not know but that it might be some
sort of camp meeting. But pretty soon they began to bring horses in and
ride them around, and so we came out."

Here Mr. George fell into a long and uncontrollable paroxysm of
laughter, during the intervals of which he said, in broken language, as
he walked about the room endeavoring to get breath and recover his
self-control, that it was the best thing he had heard since he landed at
Liverpool. The idea of following the crowd of Parisians in the Champs
Elysees on Sunday afternoon, with the expectation of being conducted to
church, and then finally taking the Hippodrome for a camp meeting! Rollo
himself, though somewhat piqued at having his adventure put in so
ridiculous a light, could not help laughing too; and even his father and
mother smiled.

"Never mind, Rollo," said his mother, at length. "I don't think you were
at all to blame; though I am glad that you came out when you found what
sort of a place it was."

"O, no," said Mr. George, as he gradually recovered his self-control,
"you were not to blame in the least. The rule you followed is a very
good one for England and America; but it does not apply to France. Going
with the multitude Sunday afternoons, in Paris, will take you any where
but to church."

Notwithstanding the concurrence of opinion between Rollo's mother and
his uncle that he