ndly requested to pay
his bill at the Hotel at Boulogne, to mount the Diligence of Laffitte,
Caillard and Company, and to travel for twenty-five hours, amidst much
jingling of harness-bells and screaming of postilions.)

. . . . . .

The French milliner, who occupies one of the corners, begins to remove
the greasy pieces of paper which have enveloped her locks during the
journey. She withdraws the "Madras" of dubious hue which has bound her
head for the last five-and-twenty hours, and replaces it by the black
velvet bonnet, which, bobbing against your nose, has hung from the
Diligence roof since your departure from Boulogne. The old lady in the
opposite corner, who has been sucking bonbons, and smells dreadfully
of anisette, arranges her little parcels in that immense basket of
abominations which all old women carry in their laps. She rubs her mouth
and eyes with her dusty cambric handkerchief, she ties up her nightcap
into a little bundle, and replaces it by a more becoming head-piece,
covered with withered artificial flowers, and crumpled tags of ribbon;
she looks wistfully at the company for an instant, and then places her
handkerchief before her mouth:--her eyes roll strangely about for an
instant, and you hear a faint clattering noise: the old lady has been
getting ready her teeth, which had lain in her basket among the
bonbons, pins, oranges, pomatum, bits of cake, lozenges, prayer-books,
peppermint-water, copper money, and false hair--stowed away there during
the voyage. The Jewish gentleman, who has been so attentive to
the milliner during the journey, and is a traveller and bagman by
profession, gathers together his various goods. The sallow-faced English
lad, who has been drunk ever since we left Boulogne yesterday, and is
coming to Paris to pursue the study of medicine, swears that he rejoices
to leave the cursed Diligence, is sick of the infernal journey, and
d--d glad that the d--d voyage is so nearly over. "Enfin!" says your
neighbor, yawning, and inserting an elbow into the mouth of his right
and left hand companion, "nous voila."

NOUS VOILA!--We are at Paris! This must account for the removal of the
milliner's curl-papers, and the fixing of the old lady's teeth.--Since
the last relais, the Diligence has been travelling with extraordinary
speed. The postilion cracks his terrible whip, and screams shrilly. The
conductor blows incessantly on his horn, the bells of the harne