y room lasted forty-two days instead of forty-three, or
some other space of time. But how can I tell you when I do not know
myself? All I can say is that if you find my work too long, it was not
my fault. In spite of the vanity natural in a traveller, I should have
been very glad if it had only run a single chapter. The fact is, that
though I was allowed in my room all the pleasures and comfort possible,
I was not permitted to leave it when I wished.

Is there anything more natural and just than to fight to the death with
a man who has inadvertently trodden on your foot, or let fall some sharp
words in a moment of vexation of which your imprudence was the cause?
Nothing, you will admit, is more logical; and yet there are some people
who disapprove of this admirable custom.

But, what is still more natural and logical, the very people who
disapprove it and regard it as a grave crime treat with greater rigour
any man who refuses to commit it. Many an unhappy fellow has lost his
reputation and position through conforming with their views, so that if
you have the misfortune to be engaged in what is called "an affair of
honour," it is best to toss up to see if you should follow the law or
the custom; and as the law and the custom in regard to duelling are
contradictory, the magistrates would also do well to frame their
sentence on the throw of the dice. Probably, it was in this way that
they determined that my journey should last exactly forty-two days.

_II.--My Armchair and my Bed_

My chamber forms a square, round which I can take thirty-six steps, if I
keep very close to the wall. But I seldom travel in a straight line. I
dislike persons who are such masters of their feet and of their ideas
that they can say: "To-day I shall make three calls, I shall write four
letters, I shall finish this work that I have begun." So rare are the
pleasures scattered along our difficult path in life, that we must be
mad not to turn out of our way and gather anything of joy which is
within our reach.

To my mind, there is nothing more attractive than to follow the trail of
one's ideas, like a hunter tracking down game, without holding to any
road. I like to zigzag about. I set out from my table to the picture in
the corner. From there I journey obliquely towards the door; but if I
come upon my armchair I stand on no ceremonies, but settle myself in it
at once. 'Tis an excellent piece of furniture, an armchair, and
especially usefu