'Look,' said he, in his former tone, 'at this gentleman our host, not

yet in the prime of life, who in so graceful a way and with such courtly

urbanity and modesty presides over us! Manners fit for a crown! Dine

with the Lord Mayor of London (if you can get an invitation) and observe

the contrast. This dear fellow, with the finest cut face I ever saw, a

face in perfect drawing, leaves some laborious life and comes up here

I don't know how many feet above the level of the sea, for no other

purpose on earth (except enjoying himself, I hope, in a capital

refectory) than to keep an hotel for idle poor devils like you and

me, and leave the bill to our consciences! Why, isn't it a beautiful

sacrifice? What do we want more to touch us? Because rescued people of

interesting appearance are not, for eight or nine months out of every

twelve, holding on here round the necks of the most sagacious of dogs

carrying wooden bottles, shall we disparage the place? No! Bless the

place. It's a great place, a glorious place!'

The chest of the grey-haired gentleman who was the Chief of the

important party, had swelled as if with a protest against his being

numbered among poor devils. No sooner had the artist traveller ceased

speaking than he himself spoke with great dignity, as having it

incumbent on him to take the lead in most places, and having deserted

that duty for a little while. He weightily communicated his opinion to their host, that his life must

be a very dreary life here in the winter.

The host allowed to Monsieur that it was a little monotonous. The air

was difficult to breathe for a length of time consecutively. The cold

was very severe. One needed youth and strength to bear it. However,

having them and the blessing of Heaven-Yes, that was very good.

'But the confinement,' said the grey-haired

gentleman. There were many days, even in bad weather, when it was possible to

walk about outside. It was the custom to beat a little track, and take

exercise there. 'But the space,' urged the grey-haired gentleman. 'So small.

So--ha--very limited.' Monsieur would recall to himself that there were the refuges to visit,

and that tracks had to be made to them also.

Monsieur still urged, on the other hand, that the space was

so--ha--hum--so very contracted. More than that, it was always the same,

always the same. With a deprecating smile, the host gently raised and gently lowered his

shoulders. That was true, he remarked, but permit him to say that almost

all objects had their various points of view. Monsieur and he did not

see this poor life of his from the same point of view. Monsieur was not

used to confinement. 'I--ha--yes, very true,' said the grey-haired gentleman. He seemed to

receive quite a shock from the force of the argument.




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