yard of the crusty French bread
in twain and consuming only the soft inside.

From the ignorance of our cursory acquaintance we had judged the French
a sociable nation. Our stay at Versailles speedily convinced us of the
fallacy of that belief. Nothing could have impressed us so forcibly as
did the frigid silence that characterised the company. Many of them had
fed there daily for years, yet within the walls of the sunny dining-room
none exchanged even a salutation. This unexpected taciturnity in a
people whom we had been taught to regard as lively and voluble made us
almost ashamed of our own garrulity, and when, in the presence of the
silent company, we were tempted to exchange remarks, we found ourselves
doing it in hushed voices as though we were in church.

A clearer knowledge, however, showed us that though some unspoken
convention rendered the hotel guests oblivious of each other's presence
while indoors, beyond the hotel walls they might hold communion. Two
retired military men, both wearing the red ribbon of the Legion of
Honour, as indeed did most of our _habitues_, sat at adjacent tables.
One, tall and thin, was a Colonel; the other, little and neat, a Colonel
also. To the casual gaze they appeared complete strangers, and we had
consumed many meals in their society before observing that whenever the
tall Colonel had sucked the last cerise from his glass of _eau-de-vie_,
and begun to fold his napkin--a formidable task, for the serviettes
fully deserved the designation later bestowed on them by the Boy, of
"young table-cloths"--the little Colonel made haste to fold his also.
Both rose from their chairs at the same instant, and the twain, having
received their hats from the attentive Iorson, vanished, still mute,
into the darkness together.

[Illustration: The Two Colonels]

Once, to our consternation, the little Colonel replaced his napkin in
its ring without waiting for the signal from the tall Colonel. But our
apprehension that they, in their dealings in that mysterious outer world
which twice daily they sought together, might have fallen into a
difference of opinion was dispelled by the little Colonel, who had
risen, stepping to his friend and holding out his hand. This the tall
Colonel without withdrawing his eyes from _Le Journal des Debats_ which
he was reading, silently pressed. Then, still without a word spoken or a
look exchanged, the little Colonel passed out alone.

[Illustration: The Young and