treets, the same dark, narrow
alleys without sidewalks, the same dingy stone houses, each peeping into
its neighbor's windows, the same eternal stone walls, shutting in from
the eye of the stranger all the beauty of the place and opposing an
inhospitable barrier to the lover of natural scenery." But when he finds
himself among rural scenes, he has the delight felt by many an American
boy since his days, as in the picture following:--

"From Orleans I started on foot for Tours on the fifth of October.
October is my favorite month of the twelve. When I reflected that if I
remained in Paris I should lose the only opportunity I might ever enjoy
of seeing the centre of France in all the glory of the vintage and the
autumn, I 'shut the book-lid' and took wing, with a little knapsack on
my back, and a blue cap,--not exactly like Quentin Durward, but perhaps
a little more. More anon of him. I had gone as far as Orleans in the
_diligence_ because the route is through an uninteresting country.

"I began the pedestrian part of my journey on one of those dull,
melancholy days which you will find uttering a mournful voice in
Sewall's Almanack: 'Expect--much--rain--about--this--time!' 'Very
miscellaneous weather, good for sundry purposes,'--but not for a journey
on foot, thought I. But I had a merry heart, and it went merrily along
all day. At sundown I found myself about seven leagues on my way and one
beyond Beaugency. I found the route one continued vineyard. On each side
of the road, as far as the eye could reach, there was nothing but vines,
save here and there a glimpse of the Loire, the turrets of an old
chateau, or spire of a village church. The clouds had passed away with
the morning, and I had made a fine day's journey, cutting across the
country, traversing vineyards, and living in all the luxury of thought
which the occasion inspired. I recollect that at sunset I had entered a
path which wound through a wide vineyard where the villagers were still
at their labors, and I was loitering along, talking with the peasantry
and searching for an _auberge_ to pass the night in. I was presently
overtaken by a band of villagers; I wished them a good evening, and
finding that the girls of the party were going to a village at a short
distance, I joined myself to the band. I wanted to get into one of the
cottages, if possible, in order to study character. I had a flute in my
knapsack, and I thought it would be very pretty to touch up a