.

On this occasion the ladies' baggage was particularly selected for
inspection, much to the annoyance of my wife, who most unwillingly gave
up her keys, and declared her opinion that "it was because gentlemen put
their cigars into the ladies' trunks." Of course this fully explained
it!

There is some difficulty in claiming one's possessions after their
examination, as there are legions of voracious hotel touters ready to
pounce upon not only "somebody's," but everybody's luggage, and the
owners too, if possible, and carry all off to the omnibuses attached to
their several hotels.

However, we at last arrive at the St. James Hotel, in the Rue St.
Honore, where, as usual, there is quite an army of waiters to welcome
the "coming guest." To an inexperienced traveller, and indeed to my
pleased wife, this is gratefully accepted as a _warm welcome_, but those
who have had some little experience know better, or rather worse.
Fortunately, we secure a room on the third floor, and therefore so far
carry out our resolutions of economy! and now, in preference to the
sumptuous _table d'hote_, we decide to dine _a la carte_, which means a
little table to yourself, where you may select what you wish to eat,
have it at any hour you please, and pay for just what you order. This is
not only less expensive, but far more quiet and comfortable after the
fatigue of a journey, than the crowded and imposing _table d'hote_, with
its never-ceasing clatter and chatter, where you will be lucky if you
find a dish that will prove agreeable to your palate. Sometimes,
however, the change is enjoyable, as you cannot fail to be amused at the
eccentricities of your neighbours; perhaps finding your own weaknesses
reflected in them. Often you will find a dozen nationalities
represented, and a perfect Babel-like talk, each little exclusive party,
like crows, intent only upon covering its own nest.

Paris is beautifully brilliant at the festive seasons, the shops filled
with lovely and costly presents, arranged with that exquisite taste so
natural to the French artiste. I think they have some very pretty
sentiments about their "Noel." For instance, at early morn on Christmas
Day, whilst still in the land of dreams, a light tap comes at your
chamber door, and on rising you find it is a messenger bearing a bouquet
of choice and lovely flowers, with some dear friend's greeting.

Unfortunately the weather continued wet and cold; still, under cover of
the