b'\nClass _J)_5 14 \nBookj_J\'lA^ \n\n\n\nCOPYRIGHT DEPOSIT \n\n\n\nEUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\n\n\n-y^y^ \n\n\n\nEUROPEAN TRAVEL \nFOR WOMEN \n\n\n\nNOTES AND SUGGESTIONS \n\nBY / \n\nMARY CADWALADER JONES \n\n\n\nTHE MACMILLAN COMPANY \n\nLONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., Ltd. \n1900 \n\nAll rights reserved \n\n\n\n839 5 \n\nLibrary of i^*., . \n\nTwo 0>H>\xc2\xa3S ^yi.-: \n\nJUN 19 1900 \n\nNo A/O// \n\ntd mm corv. \n\n2ndCcpy DP>iv\xc2\xbb^rfd to \n\nORDER DIVISION \n\nJUN 29 1900 \n\n\n\n64431 \n\nCopyright, 1900, \nBy the MACMILLAN COMPANY. \n\n\n\n\n\n\nNortoaoti T^xtzz \n\n3. S. Gushing & Co. \xe2\x80\x94 Berwick & Smith \nNorwood Mass. U.S.A. \n\n\n\nTO \n\nMY TWO COMPANIONS \n\nON MANY PLEASANT JOURNEYS \n\n\n\nPREFACE \n\nIn looking through the various guide-books \nof all kinds which accumulate in the course of \ntravel, it occurred to me that there was none \nintended especially for the use of women, to \nsuggest what they had better take with them \nin going abroad for the first time, and to tell \nthem how they can get about most comfortably \nafter landing. \n\nYear by year an increasing number of women \ntravel in Europe, often in parties which do not \ninclude a man, and there is no reason why they \nshould not, as the pleasure and profit to be \ngained are far more than worth the trouble \nwhich must be taken, while that is less in many \nways than in this country, because in the places \nwhich most people wish to visit everything has \nlong been organized with reference to the con- \nvenience of tourists. \n\nCrossing the ocean, however, differs from an \n\nordinary journey, and, after one has landed, \nvii \n\n\n\nvill PREFACE \n\nwhether in England or on the Continent, every- \nthing at first seems unfamiliar. The rules as \nto the registration of luggage, the system of \nhotel management, and the fees or tips which \nmust be constantly given, are only a few in- \nstances of the wide differences which exist \nbetween the conditions of travel here and in \nEurope, while there are many little comforts \nof which one appreciates the value through \nhaving forgotten to bring them. \n\nMost of us have to learn by the slow and \nlaborious process of asking questions, taking \nadvice, and, above all, by making mistakes ; but \nit is at least possible to offer the result of one\'s \npersonal experience, and that of other women, \nwhich is what I have tried to do in the fol- \nlowing pages. \n\nAt the end of the book I have given a com- \nparative table of the different thermometers \nused in Europe, a few of the metric measures \nand weights, with our equivalents for them, a \nnumber of words which are used in a different \nsense here and in England, as well as French \nterms which are often wrongly translated, and \nsome simple phrases in French, Italian, and \n\n\n\nPREFACE IX \n\nGerman. There is also a list of guide-books, \nand of some works of history or fiction relating \nto certain places; this does not claim to be \ncomplete, but may be of interest. \n\nIf my work has any value, the credit is in a \ngreat part due to the friends who have helped \nme with their criticism and counsel, and to \nthem I offer here my heartiest thanks. \n\nMARY CADWALADER JONES. \n\n\n\nCONTENTS \n\nPAOB \n\nIntroduction 1 \n\nPreparations for the Journey . . . . 21 \n\nGuiDE-BooKS, Dictionaries, and Novels . . 60 \n\nAbout Bicycles 67 \n\nCrossing the Ocean 73 \n\nEngland 84 \n\nFrance 129 \n\nGermany 174 \n\nItaly 190 \n\nSome Terms used differently in America and in \n\nEngland 249 \n\nFrench Words sosietimes Mistranslated . . 253 \nComparison of Reaumur, Fahrenheit, and Centi- \ngrade Thermometers ...... 256 \n\nMeasures 257 \n\nForeign Pronunciation 258 \n\nSome Useful Phrases 260 \n\nA Few Verbs 290 \n\nxi \n\n\n\nEUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR \nWOMEN \n\nINTRODUCTION \n\nEven at the risk of seeming ungracious, which \nI certainly do not intend, I must begin by say- \ning that unless travellers are willing to leave \nnational prejudices behind them, and ready to \nsee whatever is characteristic and excellent in \na foreign country, without finding fault because \nit is unfamiliar, they had better remain at home. \nAmericans are among the worst offenders in \nthis regard; and there is no greater nuisance \nthan the man who growls because he cannot get \nbuckwheat cakes, or the woman who fusses \nwhen she has to do without iced-water. If \npeople carry fixed habits from place to place, as \nthe tortoise does its shell, they will be wise to \narrange their journeys so as to permit of their \nremaining in countries where they may be com- \nfortable without too much effort. For instance, \nwhen they are absolutely dependent upon a \n\nB 1 \n\n\n\nZ EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nsubstantial breakfast, they should not go further \nthan the United Kingdom, or, at any rate, not \nbeyond a few of the large Continental cities, \nwhere there are hotels adapted for crowds of \nEnglish and Americans ; in the more out-of- \nthe-way places in France, Italy, or Germany, a \nrequest for meat with the first meal would cause \nas much surprise as if one ordered plum-pudding, \nalthough the peasants often begin their day \nwith a bowl of soup. \n\nRemember, when you go to a strange country, \nthat its inhabitants have not sent for you ; you \ngo among them, presumably, of your own accord, \nand their manners and customs cannot possibly \nseem stranger to you than yours do to them. \nIt is scarcely worth while to go to Europe for \nthe purpose of proclaiming all the time that \nAmerica is in every way better ; if that is your \nopinion you may show it by going home, and \nnever leaving it again, but while you are abroad \ntry to get all the pleasure and profit possible out \nof the visit. Differences of usage often seem \nmuch greater than they really are ; what strikes \nyou as wrong or uncommon is, in reality, for \nthat particular place, correct and normal; there- \nfore you should try to compel yourself to look \nat things, in so far as you can, from the point of \n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION 3 \n\nview of the average citizen of the place where \nyou may happen to be. \n\nTravelling for women who have no man to \nlook after them is easier and more convenient \nin Europe than it is here. In the smallest \nrailway stations, for instance, there are always \nporters, or at least idle men and boys, ready to \ntake your hand luggage; and the whole ma- \nchinery of hotel-keeping and transportation is \ncarried into greater detail than with us. Then, \ntoo, the custom of giving tips or gratuities has \na wonderfully softening effect upon the manners \nof those who hope to receive them, and even \nwhen there can be no question of such reward, \nit has been my experience that people are al- \nmost uniformly willing and anxious to save one \ntrouble and to help one in every way. \n\nIt is a great mistake to take children to \nEurope unless you mean to settle down some- \nwhere, as if you move about much they are a \nnuisance to your fellow-travellers, and if they \nare made to go to museums and galleries while \ntoo young to appreciate what is in them, they \nwill probably loathe that form of education for \nthe rest of their lives, as many of us hate some \nof the masterpieces of literature from having \nbeen made to drudge over them at school. \n\n\n\n4 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nThe average sightseer, especially at first, is \nalmost sure to attempt too much. At a certain \nstate of fatigue, enjoyment ceases at the time, \nand memory will not serve you afterward, so \nthat you will be forced to say, like poor Cassio, \n" I remember a mass of things, but nothing dis- \ntinctly." Most people go abroad with the ex- \npectation of gaining strength by their trip, but \nmany of them return home fairly tired out by \nrushing through beautiful scenery and places \nas if their whole preoccupation had been to get \nto the end of them in the shortest possible \ntime. \n\nThere are two sensible ways of planning a \nfirst visit to Europe. One is, to travel quickly \nover much ground, and go to many places, but \nnot to wear yourself out by attempting to see \nany of them thoroughly. This is a very ex- \npensive method, and only the most striking \nthings impress themselves upon the mind, but \nstill there is an impression, as well as a sense of \nthe contrasts between different countries, and \nin case it is unlikely that you will ever go \nabroad again, your mental horizon has been \nwidened for the rest of your life. \n\nThe second way is to see some country, or \npart of it, as thoroughly as you possibly can, \n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION 5 \n\nand this is of course much more satisfactory if \nyou can give the time to it. A summer in \nEngland or a winter in Italy, while giving a \nvery fair idea of what those countries are like, \nwill probably make you long to know them \nstill better, and to study after you have come \nhome in the hope of going back there some day \nwith a more intelligent curiosity than you could \nhave had at first. \n\nIf you are thinking of travelling in summer, \nand say to your friends that you intend to see \nsomething of southern France and Italy, as well \nas of Great Britain, they will assure you that you \nwill suffer dreadfully from the heat, and will \nprobably die of sunstroke or of some terrible \nlocal fever. The reason for this widespread \nbelief is that the original guide-books for use \non the Continent were written by and for \nEnglishmen, who are usually uncomfortable if \nthe thermometer goes over seventy degrees \nFahrenheit. \n\nThe German and French guide-books have \ncopied them in regard to countries not their \nown, but, as a matter of fact, any healthy Amer- \nican who can stand one of our summers will \nfind nothing to dread short of the real tropics. \nRome in July or August is not nearly so hot as \n\n\n\n6 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nWashington, and as for the mosquitoes which are \nsaid to make Venice intolerable in September, \nany one of their able-bodied American cousins \ncan do more execution than a dozen of them. \nWe naturally associate the idea of heat with \nthe south, but many cities of southern Europe \nare cooler than others farther north. Naples, \nfor instance, is never as hot as Florence, \nbecause, like New York, it has the sea breeze \nat night. This even holds good as to Palermo, \nwhich is cool compared with Milan. The cli- \nmate of Central and Southern Europe is, how- \never, more relaxing than ours, and the heat often \nholds steadily day after day, which is fatiguing. \nIf people tried as hard to catch typhoid and \nmalarial fevers at home as they do abroad, they \nwould certainly succeed quite as well, and yet \nthey persist in laying the blame upon a foreign \nclimate. Nobody here would dream, after a \nbrisk walk in a sunny street, of poking about \nfor half an hour in a mouldy cellar without an \nextra wrap ; but put the cellar in Italy and \ncall it the crypt of a church, and the proceed- \ning is apparently considered reasonable. In the \nsame way, while travellers admire the pictu- \nresque sights of a mediseval town, they turn \nup their noses at its evil smells, and yet con- \n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION 7 \n\nfidingly drink water from some unknown well \nor spring, which is probably mediaeval also, and \nthen wonder that one of the party developes a \nfever which could have been taken with less \ntrouble from the nearest polluted pump at \nhome. If you will only abide strictly by three \nrules you may go anywhere in Europe during \nthe summer months with perfect impunity, \nexcept, of course, to certain places which the \nnatives acknowledge to be unhealthy at some \nseasons, and even then, with ordinary precau- \ntions, you may be as safe as in malarious dis- \ntricts here. These are the simple precepts : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nDon\'t get overheated and then chilled. \n\nDon\'t go too long without eating. \n\nDon\'t drink water unless you are sure it is \ngood. \n\nThe journey once decided upon, all the leis- \nure you can get beforehand will not be too \nmuch for preparation, as it is always more \nsatisfactory to follow a definite plan, unless \none has indefinite time. It is also advisable \nto read up on what you particularly wish to \nsee, as otherwise you are sure to find afterward \nthat something very important has been over- \nlooked, when the sea again stretches inexorably \nbetween you and that particular cathedral or \n\n\n\n8 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\npicture gallery. It adds greatly to the pleasure \nof travel to have a distinct interest in archi- \ntecture, painting, sculpture, or some other of \nthe arts, as it is impossible to be equally well \ninformed about them all, and if you do not make \nsome choice you will either try to study too \nmuch, or may give up attempting to learn any- \nthing. When two or three people mean to be \ntravelling companions, it is always better, for \nobvious reasons, that they should have somewhat \ndifferent gifts and somewhat similar tastes. \nAn ideal association is where one is competent \nto make travelling plans and grapple with the \nproblems of time-tables, another is willing to \nkeep the purse, and do the actual travelling \nwork, such as telegraphing ahead for rooms \nand attending to the luggage, while a third \nfinds out what is best worth seeing wherever \nthey may mutually decide to go. \n\nIf any country except Great Britain is to be \nvisited, it will add much to your pleasure if \none of the party is able to speak its language \nat least tolerably. It is true that many people \ntravel all over the Continent without knowing \na word of any tongue save their own, but this \nmay be compared to looking at a sunny land- \nscape through blue glasses \xe2\x80\x94 the outline is \n\n\n\nINTBODUCTION 9 \n\nthere without the characteristic colour. Even \na few words of French or German or Italian \nare better than none at all, and one young \nwoman declared that she got along quite com- \nfortably in Italy by being able to say "How \nmuch? " \'\' Too much! " and " What is the name \nof that church? " \n\nA course of lessons at one of the schools of \nlanguage which are now so common will give \nan idea of the sound of a foreign tongue, and \nafter that the best teachers are attention, a dic- \ntionary and phrase-book, and a good temper. \nGrammar is not of much use unless one has \ntime to study seriously, and, after all, the best \nway is to ask questions on the spot and try to \nremember the answers. Nobody need have the \nleast shyness about speaking a foreign language \nwith a bad accent, because, to a native of the \ncountry, the difference between the degrees of \naccent does not really matter ; it is a little \nmore or a little less, but always there to him. \nWe have only to think how very rarely in our \nown experience we have heard any one who did \nnot learn English until he was grown up, and \nyet who spoke it without any accent at all, to \nhave less hesitation about inflicting our effort,; \nupon others. \n\n\n\n10 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nAmericanisms in speech are usually bits of \nlocal dialect, or old-fashioned English words, \nas the French now spoken by the " habitants " \nin Canada is practically that of the time of \nLouis XIV. In England the language has \ngradually changed, while we have kept to the \nolder form ; but in the matter of railways there \nis a separate nomenclature, different from ours \nin almost every particular. Each country has \na perfect right to use words as her people \nprefer, but it is better, during your stay in \nEngland, to adopt the expressions usual there, \nwithout affectation, just as it is well to drop \nthem, if they are not natural to you, when you \ngo home. \n\nThe custom of giving tips is one which often \nseems to come very hard to Americans, although \nit is now pretty well established in this country. \nLike all other European customs, it has a reason, \nand it may be worth while to look at it reason- \nably. In former times people who had large \nestablishments supported a number of servants \nof all kinds, whom they fed, housed, and clothed, \nbut who received very little money, for the \nmasters had not much themselves. Travellers \nof any distinction were always welcomed at \nthese great houses or convents, and when they \n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION 11 \n\nwent away they naturally left a gift of money \nbehind to be distributed among those who had \nserved them. \n\nIn Europe waiters, as well as other hotel ser- \nvants, often pay their employer a certain sum \ndaily for the privilege of working for him, \ninstead of receiving any wages, being expected \nto make their own living out of their tips, or \n"pourboires." On general principles, you are \nexpected to give about ten per cent of a hotel \nbill in tips, but if you stay a long time in one \nplace it is less. For this reason, sleeping at \na different place every night is very expensive. \nYou can scarcely get away and into the train \nagain next morning for less than five shillhigs \nor five francs in tips, however small your bill \nmay be, but if you stay for ten days the fees \nwill not mount up in the same proportion. \n\nIt might be possible to get about the world \nwithout tipping, and I have heard of people \nwho have done so ; but, after all, it is a ques- \ntion of expediency. There must always be \nmore or less strain and friction in life, and we \nought to spare ourselves whenever a matter of \nprinciple is not involved ; besides, if we have \nmoney enough to travel for our pleasure, it is \nhard that we cannot spare a little of it to those \n\n\n\n12 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nwho must work all the time. If any one will \ntake the trouble to keep an account of the \nmoney spent in fees during a journey, it will \nnot usually be found to amount to a very tre- \nmendous sum, and it will certainly have added \nmuch both to the comfort and the pleasure of \nthe traveller. \n\nAs the social life of Europe has been slowly \ndeveloped through hundreds of years, it is but \nnatural that it should have many more rules \nthan we have found necessary; in fact, it is as \nmuch a game of skill as whist or chess, and \nwhen we go abroad we must try to play as \nwell as we can. We are not expected to be \nespecially adroit, but we may at least avoid \nmaking ourselves noticeable by ignorance on \nsome points which seem to a European matters \nof course. \n\nIt must not be supposed that everything is \nstiff and formal in Europe. On the contrary, \nwithin certain limits, social intercourse is sim- \npler than in America. No restrictions press so \nhard as those which are not recognized, and \nin countries where everything has been long \nago defined, it is easy to fall into grooves. \n\nThe rule about chance acquaintances is that \nthey must never, except under extraordinary \n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION 13 \n\ncircumstances, be made in the street or in a \nmuseum or gallery ; on the other hand, any one \nwho happens to be in the same railway carriage \nmay speak to you, it being distinctly understood \nthat the acquaintanceship need go no farther. \nFor instance, you may travel for five or six \nhours with a party of people, may lend them \nyour newspapers and borrow theirs, and talk \nabout the scenery or anything you like. If \nyou happen to see them the next day, you may \nbow to them and they to you, but if you meet \nthe day after, even that is not necessary. \n\nOn board ship, also, there is an unwritten \nlaw that any one passenger may speak to an- \nother, but this does not bind them to know \neach other after landing. \n\nBefore taking your place at a table d\'hote, \nyou should bow slightly to the other persons at \nyour table, and also when you get up to go \naway. People who omit to do this are thought \nvery rude on the Continent, especially in Ger- \nmany. \n\nIf you are next a stranger at table, it is allow- \nable, and indeed polite, to talk with him or her; \nand if your neighbour is a man it is your place \nto speak first. \n\nIt is usual to say " good day " when you go \n\n\n\n14 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\ninto or out of a shop in France, Italy, or Ger- \nmany, and nobody thinks it strange if you \ncarry home a small parcel, but that is not the \ncustom in England, any more than it is to \ngreet the shop-people. A servant on the Con- \ntinent, especially if you stay some time in an \nhotel or apartment, expects, or at least likes, to \nbe bidden "good morning," but an English \nservant would not understand it, nor is it good \nmanners there to bow to the salesman of a shop \nin the street, no matter how well you may know \nhim by sight ; the corresponding person on the \nContinent would be pleased, but in England it \nis considered that business and personal rela- \ntions are entirely distinct, and that the man \nwho serves you in a shop has the same right as \nyourself to choose his acquaintances outside it. \nThis really laudable sense of personal dignity is \noften mistaken by strangers for either stiffness \nor servility. \n\nIn England, as with us, a woman bows first \nin the street ; but on the Continent the reverse \nis the rule, and men speak first to women. \nThe American custom that a man walking with \na woman should always keep himself between \nher and the gutter is not known in Europe ; \na woman\'s place is invariably on a man\'s right \n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION 15 \n\nhand, whether walking or driving. If you walk \nor sit on a man\'s left in Germany, it amounts to \nan admission that you are of a decidedly lower \nclass. An older woman always sits on the right \nof a young one, and if you are paying a visit \nto a German lady, or to a Frenchwoman of the \nold school, you will be invited as a courtesy to \nsit on your hostess\'s right, but it is understood \nthat you will give up your place to the next \nvisitor who comes after you. \n\nIn making calls in Europe, cards are left only \nfor the married women of a family, as a girl is \nnot supposed to have separate social recognition \nuntil she marries. \n\nOf late years manners have everywhere be- \ncome so much more democratic that it is not \nnow so unusual as it used to be to see young \ngirls going about alone or together, and, as a \ngeneral rule, if a woman will dress quietly, walk \nquickly, and look ahead of her, she will not be \nmolested ; but if one who is strikingly pretty \nand showily dressed saunters slowly along, \nlooking into shop windows and also staring at \nthe passers-by, she will very likely be followed \nby some man who is willing to take the chance \nof possible amusement ; nor is hie altogether to \nblame, because the nice women whom he has \n\n\n\n16 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOB WOMEN \n\nknown have not laid themselves open to such \nmisunderstanding. \n\nThe frank, level gaze with which the Ameri- \ncan girl, not thinking any evil, meets the eyes of \nmen who are strangers to her is always startling \nto Europeans. Ladies in Europe, especially on \nthe Continent, dress quietly when walking, and \nwear very little jewellery in daytime. The \nmistake our women often make is in copying \nthe clothes and manners of people who are not \nladies at all. \n\nThe rule of the road in England is that you \npass to the left when riding, driving, or bicy- \ncling, but when on foot to the right as with us. \nIn France, Germany, and most of Italy, one \npasses to the right, but you cannot always be \nsure; there are right and left-handed cities and \ndistricts, so you must keep your eyes open if \nyou are bicycling or doing anything where you \nneed to know the local custom. Many of the \nolder towns have neither curbstone nor side- \nwalk, consequently nobody on the Continent \nhesitates to walk in the street itself for any \ndistance. \n\nWhen driving in small parks, such as that \nof the Villa Borghese in Rome, you bow to \nan acquaintance the first time you meet her \n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION 17 \n\ncarriage, but not after that, the reason being \nthat people usually go round more than once, \nand if they had to speak each time they met \ntheir friends, they would be obliged to keep \nnodding like Dresden china mandarins. \n\nEvery American who leaves his own country \nshould begin by going to England, for several \nreasons. In the first place, while the transition \nis marked enough, it is less violent than if one \nis suddenly pitchforked into a place where the \nlanguage, as well as all the customs, are unfa- \nmiliar ; and then, although we have become \ndifferent in some ways from the English, we \nare many of us descended directly from them \nand have a common inheritance in their past. \nThen, too, most things in England are on a \nsmall scale, individually, compared to the Con- \ntinent, and should therefore be seen first in \norder that they may produce their due effect. \nSome of the English cathedrals are extremely \ninteresting and beautiful, especially if one \ncomes to them with no standard of compari- \nson; but after Chartres and Rheims and other \nexamples of Gothic art in France, even Canter- \nbury and Ely look small, and one realizes that \nthey have been stripped of much that gave \nthem meaning centuries ago. Nor does our \n\n\n\n/ \n\n\n\n18 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\ninterest in England stop with her great histori- \ncal monuments. The lanes where Shakespeare \nwalked, the churchyard where Gray wrote his \nElegy, and hundreds of other places, are full of \nassociations for us, and we are right to make \npilgrimages to them. \n\nOne of the great faults in the modern Ameri- \ncan, as it was in the old Athenian character, is \nlack of reverence ; and anything which has a \ntendency to develop that sentiment should be \nsedulously encouraged. It does not make the \nleast difference that thousands of people before \nus have been moved as they stood in the little \nchurch at Stratford-on-Avon, or in Canterbury \nCathedral, where the Black Prince lies, with \nhis helmet and shield hanging over him ; if we \nalso feel a thrill, it means that we have in us \nthe capacity to be stirred by the memory of \nwords and deeds which were higher and nobler \nthan anything which we shall say or do in all \nour lives ; and although we are told that no \nman by taking thought can add to his bodily \nstature, it is certain that the best aid to mental \ngrowth is a healthy sense of our own littleness. \n\n\n\nPRELIMINARY READING \n\nA Few General Works on Art \n\nThose marked with a star (*) are of portable size, and useful \nfor reference. \n\nPrinciples of Art, J. C. Van Dyke. Hunt & Eaton. \nPart I. Art in History. \nPart n. Art in Theory. \n*How to Judge of a Picture, J. C. Van Dyke. Hunt & \n\nEaton. \nArt Topics, Sculpture, Painting, Architecture, C. S. Farrar. \n\nC. S. Farrar & Co. \nHistory of Art (2 vols., trans.), W. Lubke. Dodd & \n\nMead. \nHistory of Sculpture (trans.), W. Liibke. Smith Elder. \n*Introduction to Gothic Architecture, J. H. Parker. \n\nParker & Co. \nArchitecture for General Readers, H. H. Stratham. \n\nChapman and Hall. \nA Text-book of the History of Architecture, A. D. F. \n\nHamlin. Longmans. \nHandbook of the History of Art (trans.), F. Kugler. \nHistory of Painting (2 vols., trans.), F. Kugler. \nHistory of Sculpture (trans.), F. Kugler. \n*A Concise History of Painting, Mrs. C. Heaton. (Bohn \n\nLibrary.) Macmillan. \nLives of the Painters, Vasari. (Bohn, 6 vols.) Macmillan. \nEncyclopsedia of Architecture, J. Gwilt. Longmans. \nHistory of Architecture (4 vols.), J. Fergusson. Murray. \nTalks on Architecture (2 vols., trans.), VioUet-le-Duc. \n19 \n\n\n\n20 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nDictionnaire de 1\' Architecture (10 vols., invaluable for \nFrench Gothic), VioUet-le-Duc. \n\nL\' Architecture et la Peinture en Europe, A. Michiels. \n\nEuropean Architecture, Russell Sturgis. Macmillan. \n\nSacred and Legendary Art, Mrs. Jameson. Longmans. \n\nLegends of the Monastic Orders, Mrs. Jameson. Long- \nmans. \n\nSymbolism in Christian Art, F. E. Hulme. Macmillan. \n\n*Saints and their Symbols, E. A. Green. Sampson Low. \n\nBooks relating to Certain Periods \n\nIntroduction to the Study of the Middle Ages, E. Emerton. \n\nGinn. \nMediaeval Europe, E. Emerton. Ginn. \nThe Holy Roman Empire, J. Bryce. Macmillan. \nThe Renaissance, Walter Pater. Macmillan. \nRenaissance Fancies and Studies, Vernon Lee. Putnam. \nKunst und Kiinstler des Mittelalters und der Neuzeit, \n\nDr. F. Dohme. \nDie Kulturgeschichte des Mittelalters, Dr. Grupp. \nCultur der Renaissance, J. Burckhardt. \nDie Spat Renaissance, G. Ebe. \nGeschichte des Barockstiles, P. Gurlitt. \nHistory of Modern Europe (3 vols.), C. A. FyfPe. Holt. \nGovernments and Parties in Continental Europe, A. L. \n\nLowell. Houghton, Mifflin. \n\n\n\nPREPARATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY \n\nThe most important matter to decide is how \nmuch you can afford to spend while you are \naway, and it is well to subdivide the sum likely \nto be at your disposal, until you know about \nwhat may be allowed for each week, or even \neach day. The reason for so doing is simple. \nLong journeys from one place to another are \nexpensive, but stopping-places may be planned \nin which you can make good use of your time \nwhile your purse is recovering breath for a fresh \nstart ; and if you avoid retracing your steps \nmore than is absolutely necessary you will be \nable to see more, and spend less. It is not pos- \nsible to lay down any hard and fast rule as to \nwhat your journey ought to cost, because that \ndepends upon your scale of expenses. Young \nand strong women can get along on two \ndollars a day each ; but five dollars is the \nleast sum which an older woman should allow \nherself, if she wishes to be comfortable. \n\nThere are some obvious advantages in buying \na circular ticket through Cook\'s or another of \n21 \n\n\n\n22 EUROPEAISr TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nthe travelling agencies. Not only can you tell \nexactly what your tour will cost, but you are \ntaken care of everywhere by thoroughly efficient \nmachinery ; and if you know nothing of any \nlanguage except your own you will probably \nprofit more by your trip than if you try to \nwander about alone. The disadvantage is that \nyou must follow the route you have chosen, thus \nnecessarily sacrificing that sense of freedom \nwhich adds so much to a holiday. \n\nIn any case, I strongly advise you to go to \nCook\'s offices, which are to be found in almost \nevery city, for your railway and steamboat \nticketSo They will cost a fraction more than \nat the stations, but it is a great convenience to \nbe able to get them beforehand, and it often \nhappens, if you want to secure sleeping quarters \nor especial accommodations for a long journey, \nthat you can do much better by dealing with \nthe railways through an organization with \nwhich they do an immense amount of business, \nthan if you try to do so on your own account. \nCook\'s interpreters are on duty at all large sta- \ntions, and you will also probably find it con- \nvenient to use them, but do not forget to tip \nthem for their services, as they are supposed to \nbe there only to assist their employer\'s parties. \n\n\n\npreparations for the journey 23 \n\nLetters of Credit \n\nThe traveller\'s checks issued by the Ameri- \ncan Express Compaii}^, Brown Brothers, and \nprobably other firms, for fixed amounts of ten, \ntwenty, fifty, and a hundred dollars are very \nconvenient and cost only half of one per cent ; \nbut the old-fashioned letter of credit, which \ncosts one per cent over the regular exchange \nand war tax, has many advantages for women. \nIn the first place, it is a sort of general intro- \nduction from the banker who issues it to all \nhis correspondents, and in case of any accident \nin a foreign town, such as, for example, arrest \nfor ignorantly breaking some ordinance, or a \nsudden attack of illness, a banker in good \nstanding may be quite as useful as the resident \nconsul, even supposing that there is one in the \nplace. \n\nLetters of credit are not usually given for a \nless sum than five hundred dollars, although \nexceptions are sometimes made. Your letter of \ncredit is by far your most precious possession, \nand should be carried so carefully that there is \nbut little chance of losing it. Each one issued \nhas a number of its own, and this number \nshould be entered in at least two different \n\n\n\n24 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nplaces ; once, for instance, on a card kept \nwherever you carry your ornaments, and again \nin a note-book or diary. If it happens that \nyour letter is lost or stolen, you should \ntelegraph its number to your banker, who \nwill notify his correspondents not to pay any- \nthing on it, and you will lose nothing. \n\nThe question of whether it shall be taken \nout for English or French money depends \nsomewhat upon whether most of your time is \nto be spent in Great Britain. If it is, it will \nbe more natural to draw your money in pounds, \nshillings, and pence, and a certain weight of \ncredit attaches everywhere to English gold ; \nbut, if the principal office of your banker is \nin Paris, and you expect to be chiefly on the \nContinent, it is simpler to deal with francs \nand centimes, especially as we are used to \na decimal currency. \n\nThe person to whom a letter of credit is \nmade out puts her signature on it, and it \nshould certainly be also signed by another \nmember of the party, as then two people \nwill be able to draw money on it instead of \none. In case of severe illness, or death, \ngreat inconvenience may be caused if the \nonly signature on the letter of credit is that \n\n\n\nPREPARATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY 25 \n\nof the person who can no longer write her \nname, as the others may be entirely unable to \nget money. \n\nThe great majority of people now never \nthink of taking out a passport for ordinarjf \nEuropean travel, but they are still useful aa. \na means of identification, and are regarded \nas a proof of their owner\'s respectability. A \nregistered letter will almost always be handed \nover at once if you produce a passport, and at \nsmall custom-houses it has a very good effect, \nso that, on the whole, it is well to provide your- \nself with one. Passports are issued by the \nState Department at Washington, and any \nbanker can direct you to a broker who will \nget one for you ; but if you live in the city of \nNew York it is very easy to procure one for \nyourself. On one of the upper floors of the \nGeneral Post-Office building there is a United \nStates Court and adjoining the court-room \nyou will find an office where you make your \napplication, and in a few days the passport \ncomes back from Washington, duly signed by \nthe Secretary of State. It costs four dollars, \nand before it is handed to you it must be \nsigned by some one able to identify you, in \norder to make sure that it goes to the rightful \n\n\n\n26 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nowner. For this reason you should take a \n\nfriend with you when you go to claim it. \n\nA passport is good for two years, and may \n\nbe at the end of that time renewed for one \n\ndollar. \n\nSteamers \n\nYour choice of an ocean steamer will natu- \nrally depend a good deal upon your feeling \nregarding the voyage and also upon the amount \nof money you can command. If you look upon \nthe crossing as a horror to be got through with \nas soon as possible, if you have plenty of money \nand like the chance or certainty of fashionable \nfellow-passengers, by all means take one of the \n"ocean greyhounds." A note to the offices of \nthe various companies will bring you fat \nenvelopes full of plans and price-lists, for the \ncompetition between the lines is very keen, and \nby advancing or retarding for a little while \nthe date of your sailing you may strike the \n"off season," when passages are considerably \ncheaper. All companies make a reduction of \nabout ten per cent on the round trip if you \ntake a return ticket, and it is sensible to do \nso if you can engage your homeward passage \ndefinitely on a ship of the same line at the \ntime you sail from America. If, however, you \n\n\n\nPKEPARATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY 27 \n\nare not sure just when you are coming back, \nit is better not to bind yourself by a return \nticket, as without it you are free to choose \nany line which suits you best as to date and \naccommodation. Besides, it is asking almost \ntoo much of human nature to expect that, in \na crowded season, you will be given as good \nrooms, paying ten per cent less, as a person \nwithout a round trip ticket, who will pay the \nwhole fare. In whatever ship you may choose \nyour cabin, there are a few things to be thought \nof. There is less motion in the middle of the \nship than at either end of it. The gentlemen\'s \nand ladies\' toilet rooms are usually on opposite \nsides, and it is well to be tolerably near the \nlatter, but not next door. And you should \nalso avoid being too close a neighbour of the \npantry or the barber\'s shop. \n\nIf your income is limited, it certainly seems \nmore sensible not to spend too much money on \nthe voyage, but to have it for the other side ; \nand slow steamers are often steadier, and there- \nfore more comfortable for bad sailors, than \nvery fast ones. The rooms are also larger in \nmany cases, and that is a great advantage. A \ngood-sized cabin on the upper deck, with plenty \nof fresh air, and room to turn round in, may \n\n\n\n28 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nmean the difference between happinesss and \nmisery to its occupant, and insure her landing \nin good condition to go on with her journey. \nThis last is an important consideration, as pro- \ntracted seasickness and its consequent starva- \ntion are most fatiguing, and it is sometimes \nweeks before the sufferer is really well again. \n\nIt is customary to pay a deposit of twenty- \nfive per cent of the passage money when you \nengage your passage. This payment secures \nyour berth up to three weeks before your sail- \ning, at which time the full amount of passage \nis usually paid. You cannot secure a room to \nyourself unless you pay two fares ; this rule, \nhowever, does not always hold in the dull \nseason, and sometimes after the vessel starts it \nis possible to make an arrangement with the \npurser by which you may be alone in a cabin \nwithout paying extra, although it is never \nsafe to be sure of it. \n\nYou may buy your ticket from New York \nthrough to London, Paris, or Bremen, and \nif you wish to stop on the way between the \nport and your final destination, the luggage \nwill be sent on to await your arrival. \n\nWhen you finally go to pay for your steamer \nticket, be careful to get a number of labels for \n\n\n\nPRBPAKATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY 29 \n\nyour luggage, both for that which is to go in the \nhold and also for the steamer trunk and small \npieces which you keep with you in your cabin, \nand be sure you take more of the latter than you \nthink you are likely to want, as you will find that \npackages multiply like rabbits in the last days \nbefore you go, and if friends send you butter, \nfruit, etc., before you leave your house or hotel, \nit will run no risk of being lost in the scramble \nof getting on board if each box or basket has a \nlabel with your name and cabin number plainly \nthereon. \n\nThe custom of loading travellers down with \neatables, as if they were going to cross the \nGreat Desert, has gone out to a great extent, \nbut still there are a few things which add to \none\'s comfort considerably. To people who are \nfussy about butter, that on board ship is never \nmore than fair, and a small tin kettle of some \nwhich is really good may be put in charge of the \npantry steward, who will keep it in the ice-room, \nand your cabin or table steward will bring it to \nyou, or put it at your place at each meal. If \nyou can have it made up before you start into \nlittle separate balls, so much the better, as it will \nlast longer and look prettier than if blocks are \nchopped off the large pat each time you want it. \n\n\n\n30 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nFresh eggs and fruit are both great luxuries, \nthe latter being almost necessary to health, and \nyou may like to have a small tin box of plain \nbiscuits or crackers (not sweet) in your cabin, as \nif you are well at sea you are usually fiercely \nhungry, and if not, you will often feel faint and \n" gone," and should not allow yourself then to \nbe without food. Peppermint lozenges are an \nexcellent tonic for most people when they are \nbeginning to get over seasickness. \n\nIf you drink coffee, you should certainly take \nwith you, wherever you go, a few vanilla beans, \nas a small bit of one, an inch long or less, broken \noff and dropped into a cup, will take away the \nbitter taste which is so common when coffee is \nnot good, besides giving it a pleasant smell and \nflavour. Half a dozen beans are plenty to start \nwith, as you can get them easily in any large \ntown, and their odour is so aromatic and pervad- \ning that, unless you want everything which \ncomes near them to be flavoured like a pudding, \nyou had better keep them in a long glass bottle, \nwide at the top and with a metal cover which \nscrews on tight, like those made to hold tooth- \nbrushes in travelling-bags. You may find them \nat any large shop where they sell different sorts \nof bottles for chemists. If you are particular \n\n\n\nPKEPARATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY 31 \n\nabout your tea you may take your own, and the \ntable steward or your stewardess will have it \nmade for you. \n\nForeign Money \n\nAt any banker\'s you will be able to get the \naddress of a reputable money-changer, and it is \na good plan to buy some foreign money before \nyou start. It is true that American money is \ntaken on any of the ocean steamers, but the \ncurrency of the country to which the steamship \nline belongs is the official medium on board ; \nyour bills are made out in shillings on an Eng- \nlish boat, in francs on a French one, and in \nmarks on a German. Now if we consider our \nquarter-dollar as answering to the shilling, franc, \nor mark, for purposes of tips on board ship, you \ncan easily see that you will save money by giving \nthe foreign coin instead of its American equiva- \nlent ; as a shilling and a mark are, roughly speak- \ning, twenty-four cents, and a franc only a little \nover nineteen. \n\nIt is also a convenience to have some small \nchange of the country at which you expect to \nland ; in fact, old travellers usually keep a little \nof the money of each country, for convenience\' \nsake if they should go back to it, and they are \n\n\n\n32 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nalso careful to take some American money \nabroad with them, for immediate use when they \ncome home, as the New York or Boston hack- \nman or truck-driver, although probably himself \nan emigrant, will strenuously object to taking \nforeign tribute. \n\nIf you buy a little money of each of the coun- \ntries to which you mean to go, you will be able \nto familiarize yourself with the look of the diff- \nerent coins before you must actually use them. \n\nLuggage and Belongings \n\nTrunks, or "travelling boxes," as they are \ncalled in England, are cheaper in Europe than \nhere ; but not better than those of our good \nmakers, and it is always false economy to buy \ncheap trunks, if you mean to use them for trav- \nelling, as these have a way of giving out and \ncoming to pieces just when it is hardest to mend \nor replace them. Of course, if you are going \nto carry a lot of clothes about with you, and \nspend some time in cities or in making visits, \nyou will need the same wardrobe that you \nwould at home, and large boxes to hold it ; \nbut even then do not try to drag about the \nhuge arks with which some Americans still \nadvertise their nationality \xe2\x80\x94 not because you \n\n\n\nPEEPARATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY 33 \n\nwish to renounce yours, but because you will \nfind them inconvenient, as Europeans are not \nused to handling them. They are also very \ncruel to porters, as hotels, except the largest, \nhave no freight elevators, or " lifts," as they are \ncalled in Europe, and all luggage is carried by \nhand, often up and down many stairs. Basket \ntrunks, or " dress boxes," are useful in England, \nbut not to be recommended for the Continent, \nas there are clever thieves who make it a busi- \nness to slit the covers, push the osiers apart, \nand take out any small articles of value. Dust \nalso sifts into them easily. \n\nIt is better to have two small pieces of \nluggage rather than one large one, as it is eas- \nier to get about with them, and also cheaper to \ntake only a small trunk or large valise if you \nare going off anywhere for a few days, while, \nif you are invited to make a visit at a private \nhouse and appear with a very large box, you will \nsimply be regarded as an unmitigated nuisance. \n\nIt is not a bad plan to take all your belong- \nings in one trunk from America, and then \nbuy two small ones after you land, if you \nneed them. In England you are entitled to \none hundred and twelve pounds weight of \nluggage on a first-class ticket, eighty pounds \n\n\n\n34 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\non a second-class one, and sixty if you go \nthird-class, but there is seldom any charge \nunless you have an exorbitant amount. In \nFrance you are allowed thirty kilos, or \nabout sixty-six pounds, on a ticket of any \nclass ; and in most parts of Germany, fifty \npounds ; but in Italy, Belgium, Holland, and \nSwitzerland every pound of luggage must be \npaid for, and at so high a rate that it is a \nserious item in one\'s travelling expenses. In \nItaly, for instance, to take one hundred kilos, \nor two hundred pounds, weight of luggage \nfrom one place to another will cost exactly \nas much as a third-class ticket for the same \ndistance. \n\nIf you intend to wander about all day and go \nto bed early, it is perfectly practicable to travel \ncomfortably with one medium-sized trunk, al- \nthough you may be rather crowded in the \nmatter of underclothing. With two cloth \ntailor-suits, one thicker and one lighter, a \ngood silk or satin skirt, and a few blouses, or \nshirt-waists, one is well enough provided for \nsight-seeing and the table d\'hote, but if jon \nwish to go to tlie theatre you will need an \nevening wrap, and if you stop to rest for a day \nor two, some sort of house-dress or teagown \n\n\n\nPREPARATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY 35 \n\nis a luxury. It is almost impossible to say \nhow much or how little luggage you should \ntake, as that depends entirely upon what repre- \nsents to you necessaries. The best sort of \ntravelling petticoat is silk of a good quality, \nbut many pretty ones are also made of coloured \ncotton stuffs, and if you have any decent enough \nto get you across the ocean, you will be able \nto find them either in London or Paris at less \ncost than at home, because the work-people are \npaid so much less. \n\nIf you are wise you will wear very simple \nunderclothes while travelling, as they will \nreceive very hard usage from the washerwomen. \nIndeed, the use of chemicals to save time and \nlabour is almost universal in civilized places, \nand in those which are out of the way the linen \nis pounded on stones, so that between these \nevils it soon gives up the struggle, and you \ngo about in rags. \n\nIt is difficult to see why any one should think \nit necessary to have her name and home address \nput on her luggage in full, as it is of no use, \nand only serves to make her conspicuous, which \nis always disagreeable to a lady, besides offer- \ning an opportunity to adventurers. Initials are \nenough, but it is useful to have some simple \n\n\n\n36 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nsign, sucli as a cross, a round spot, or a star, \npainted in red on either end of a trunk, near \nthe lettering, in order to be able to find it more \neasily. Red corners are also a good distinction. \nProbably many railway porters, on the Continent \nat least, cannot read, but if you point to one \npiece of luggage with such a mark on it, and \nhold up as many fingers as there are other \npieces like it, you will find it has as much effect \nas the most eloquent harangue. One of my \ntravelling companions devised a simple method \nfor distinguishing the keys of trunks, which you \nmay find useful in case you are bringing home \nseveral pieces of luggage, or have an accumula- \ntion of it for any reason. She collected ends \nof narrow ribbon of very bright colours, then \ncut each piece in two, and tied one half tightly \nthrough the loop of the key, and the other as \nfirmly round the hasp of the lock, or through \none of the side clamps which are on nearly all \ntrunks now. The result was that at a custom- \nhouse, or on arriving at an hotel with scant time \nto dress for dinner, or when, at the last moment \nbefore starting, a trunk had to be opened, the \nkey with the bit of green ribbon on it seemed \nwaiting with sentient eagerness to open the \ntrunk on which was a scrap of the same colour ; \n\n\n\nPREPABATIOi^S FOR THE JOURNEY 37 \n\nand as keys in their natural state all look \nmore or less alike, the saving of patience and \ntemper was incalculable. \n\nEach person should have a steamer trunk, \nand if of fair size it will be more useful after \nlanding than a very small one. A large, dark- \ncoloured canvas bag, or \'\' kit," with a lock, \nsuch as all good trunk-makers sell now, is prac- \ntical for soiled clothes, as they may be stuffed \ninto it, and kept by themselves. A canvas \ncover with straps, in which the rugs and shawls \nof the party may be neatly rolled, will keep \nthem from the dust of travel ; and still another \ncanvas case is advisable for holding umbrellas \nand parasols, which otherwise soon get badly \nchafed and shabby-looking. A very stout \nvalise, preferably of sole leather, to carry only \nbooks, is a great convenience. One needs guide- \nbooks, for instance, and they accumulate rap- \nidly, and are bad neighbours to lighter articles \nif carried in an ordinary trunk, besides being \ninaccessible just when they are most wanted. \nBut if you have a valise for them, you can \nkeep it open until the last minute at an hotel, \nand then take it with you in your railway \ncarriage, and surround yourself, if you have \na long journey, with any kind of literature, \n\n\n\n88 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nbesides saving the considerable sum which they \nwould have cost if paid for as luggage. To be \nsure, they will add to the amount of the tip \nwhich you must give for carrying small articles \nin or out of a station, and we were often \namused by the surprise of the porter who caught \nhold casually of the book-valise, to find it \napparently filled with lead. A bag of netted \nhemp, such as children carry schoolbooks in, \nwill be another blessing. It is certainly not \npretty, and the " smart " member of your party \nwill probably jeer at it ; but it holds together \nall the newspapers, time-tables, and magazines, \nwhich otherwise delight to flutter about the \ndeck, or hide in dark corners of the carriage, \nor scatter from your arms on a station platform. \nIf you can photograph at all, a camera will be \nnot only an amusement, but valuable because \nyou can have, by its help, an illustrated journal \nof your travels. As a rule, local photographers \ntake only objects of obvious interest, such as \nchurches and palaces ; if you want details of \narchitecture, or bits of scenery, you must take \nthem for yourself. The \'\' Daylight " Kodak, \n5 X 4, is an easy size to carry, and in all large \ncities you can get Eastman\'s films, or have \nthem developed. \n\n\n\nPREPARATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY 39 \n\nPeople going to Europe for the first time are \nusually, like the expectant mothers of first \nbabies, showered with all sorts of presents from \nfriends who are often more kind than practical. \nElaborate " housewives," with rainbows of sew- \ning silk and rows of fine needles, or writing \ncases with beautiful penholders and tiny ink- \nstands look delightful ; but black shoe-thread \nand big needles may not be forthcoming from \nthe former when you want them, and you will \nbe lucky if the ink only dries up, and does not \nleak over your other belongings. \n\nIf any fairy godmother offers you a travel- \nling-bag, fitted with toilet things, beg her to let \nyou wait and get it in England, which is their \nnative country, and where they are cheaper \nthan here. With us their weight is against \nthem, as one must often carry one\'s own hand \nluggage ; but that need never happen on the \nother side of the water. \n\nOf all white elephants, a large and heavy bag \nor dressing-case crowded with a number of \nfittings as to which the beneficiary had no \nchoice is the worst, especially as no two \nwomen ever want exactly the same things \nin travelling. One who sunburns easily is \nwretched without the lotion which she always \n\n\n\n40 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nuses ; another does not care for that, but wants \nto have a bottle of smelling-salts or a box of \ncold cream, or some special clothes-brush, or \nhair-curling lamp to which she is attached, \nwhere she may be able to put her hand on it. \nThe only sensible thing to do, therefore, is to \nchoose among your belongings those which really \nadd to your daily comfort, and then proceed to \nbuild a bag round them. Each little bottle or \nbox, button-hook or nail-file, should have its \nleather cubbyhole or strap in which it is always \nto live when in the bag. By taking them out \nand putting them back constantly you will soon \nlearn to do it mechanically, and if you have for- \ngotten anything, its empty place is there as a \nmute reminder, which will often prevent you \nfrom leaving it behind. \n\nA soap box or case is always included in the \nfitting of a good bag, and is very necessary, as \nsoap is never furnished in Continental hotels. \n\nA dressing-case of linen, or some such stuff, \nwith different divisions, which is what most \npeople have, and which will go in any bag, is \njust as useful as a more elaborate arrangement ; \nthe point is that there should be a settled place \nfor each of your toilet articles in order to keep \nthem together. You cannot get along without \n\n\n\nPREPARATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY 41 \n\na hand-bag, and do not make the mistake of \nchoosing it too small, or of leather which will \neasily become shabby ; russet or black pigskin \nor morocco is very serviceable. Here are a \nfew suggestions as to its contents : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nKeep an ordinary paper-cutter, not so fine \nthat it would be heart-breaking to lose it, and \nalso a common wooden pencil, slipped under \nlittle straps or loops just inside the top, so \nthat they may be reached in a moment with- \nout having to burrow after them. \n\nA cheap stiff fan which will stay folded, and \na thick gauze veil in case of excessive dust, will \nlie peacefully in the bottom and give no trouble \nif they are not wanted. A small bottle of \nbrandy or ginger ought not to be omitted. A \nfolding silver fruit-knife is a luxury, and there \nare several kinds of travelling drinking-cups \nwhich do not take up much room and are often \na great convenience. A little " housewife " or \nsewing-case, with glove and shoe buttons, a \nthimble, safety-pins, cobbler\'s thread, and a \nplaited tress of sewing silk for mending, is \nalmost indispensable. With the present fashion \nof coloured petticoats and various blouses it is \nperfectly possible to be twenty-four hours away \nfrom your trunk, if the hand-bag is large \n\n\n\n42 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nenough to hold, besides your dressing-case, a \nnightgown, another blouse, stockings, and some \nhandkerchiefs. Now these are rather intimate \ngarments to display to casual eyes every time \nthe bag is opened; but they will pass unnoticed, \nand furthermore be kept quite clean, if they are \ncarried in a simple case like those made for \nhandkerchiefs, but of some quiet colour, and \nanother little bag in which to slip soiled hand- \nkerchiefs is also useful. \n\nMany people keep their reserve money and \nsuch valuable ornaments as they carry with \nthem, in a belt or pocket which they wear all \nthe time. Should you not wish to do this, get \na small tin box with a Yale lock, make a dark \nflannel cover for it, so that it will neither \nattract notice nor chafe your other things, and \nlet it live always in your bag. The keys of this \nbox and of the bag should be in some place \nalways easy to get at, and you should see that \nyour bag is locked in hotels, or if you leave it \nin the parcel rooms of railway stations. \n\nLow shoes are so much worn now that one\'s \nfeet do not feel tired after a long day\'s travel- \nling as they used to do from buttoned boots ; \nbut if one means to stop over night, room may \nbe made in the bag for a comfortable and yet \n\n\n\nPREPARATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY 43 \n\nnice-looking pair of slippers, and these should \nalso have a dwelling-place of their own. The \npatterns for shoe-bags are many, but one of the \nbest seems to be a case like a large envelope, of \nbrown linen, or some such material, bound with \nbraid, and with a pointed flap which buttons \noyer, as an envelope is shut. \n\nOr else there need be no case or bag at all, \nbut a piece of stuff about eighteen inches square, \nbound all round, with two ends of tape or braid \nleft loose at one corner, in order to tie the shoes \nup into a neat parcel. To be convenient it is by \nno means essential that a travelling-bag should \nbe very expensive, but it is worth while to give a \nlittle thought and spend a little money on some- \nthing which will make a decided difference in \nyour daily comfort. \n\nA large " steamer bag " of stout linen, with \ndifferent divisions, is almost necessary for use \nin one\'s cabin, as it keeps together conveniently \nhandkerchiefs, underclothes, and countless little \nthings which otherwise have a tendency to \nstray. Pack this bag quietly at home with \nthe things which you think you will be most \nlikely to want for the first few days after you \nsail, and put it in your steamer trunk, all ready \nto hang up when you go on board. Into one of \n\n\n\n44 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nthe pockets slip a few small screw-eyes with \nsharp points, so that in case you are not able \nto pin it on the back of the sofa in your cabin, \nyou may screw it into the woodwork in some \nplace where it will do no harm. \n\nProvide yourself with two bags of checked \ngingham, or some stuff of that kind, for your \nsoiled linen ; you can thus send one to the \nwash, and have the other to use while the first \nis away. \n\nA simple, thin, flannel dressing-gown which \nyou may wear over your nightgown at sea, or \nif you think a hotel bed is not entirely dry, \nis indispensable, as well as a pair of knitted \nslippers to wear in your berth or whenever \nyou feel chilly, but not quite cold enough to \nneed a hot-water bottle. You should also \nhave another dressing-gown or wrapper of \nsome quiet colour, in order not to be too con- \nspicuous when you go to the bath-room. A \ntravelling cloak of some kind should be a con- \nstant companion. Nine times out of ten it is \na great nuisance and terribly in your way, but \non the tenth it will prevent your taking a bad \ncold, which is more of a nuisance still. \n\nAs to writing materials, experience has con- \nvinced me that the most practical thing to have \n\n\n\nPREPARATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY 45 \n\nis a separate inkstand, big enough to hold a \ngood supply of ink (those of rubber, with screw \ntops, are excellent), and a large plain leather \nblotting-book, with a strap for your penholder, \nand a pocket in one cover, in which you may keep \nyour paper. Postage-stamps may be bought in \nany hotel, and will travel best in a small flat \nleather book with oiled paper leaves and a button \ncatch, which will also slip into this pocket. If \nyou are in the habit of writing on your knee, one \nof the lap-boards which now come in all degrees \nof elaboration may be just what you want, but \nthe inkstands for them are as a rule microscopic, \nand they are apt to have more fittings than you \nwill really need. Travelling is something like \ncooking; the better a cook is, the fewer utensils \nshe needs outside the necessary tools of her \ntrade; and the more you go about the less you \nwill care to accumulate things on the chance \nof their being useful. \n\nAll the same, there are some belongings which \nwill add distinctly to your comfort. Besides \nthe little housewife in your bag, you should \ntake some extra buttons like those on your \nunderclothes, some black sewing-silk, fine and \ncoarse, and some elastic if you are likely to need \nit. A tape-measure with inches on one side \n\n\n\n46 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nand centimeters on the other may be bought at \nmost good thread and needle shops, and let me \nrecommend you to take it with you if you go to \nbuy stockings anywhere outside of England, as, \nunless you do, the wily salesman will probably \npersuade you that he has given you just your \nsize, and you may either find your purchase in \nwads about your toes and folds around your \nankles, or else not be able to get your foot into \nit at all; for nothing lends itself to deception \nwith such glee as a stocking, \xe2\x80\x94 especially if it be \nsilk, \xe2\x80\x94 except perhaps a collar, and if you must \nbuy the latter the measure will again be useful, \nunless you want to know how it feels to be \ngarroted. One meter corresponds to thirty- \nnine inches, which is near enough to our stan- \ndard if you are only getting a yard or two of \nribbon; but if you buy twelve meters you must \nreckon that you will have thirteen yards. \n\nA great many useful articles may be carried \nin a small box, and if it is of tin, so much the \nbetter \xe2\x80\x94 I know one originally meant to hold \ndry ginger which has crossed the ocean several \ntimes with credit to itself and comfort to its \nowner. Hotel porters now understand pretty \nwell how to take care of russet shoes, but if \nyou have any special dressing for your black \n\n\n\nPREPARATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY 4T \n\nones you had better carry it in another little \ntin box, and take care of them yourself, for if \nyou put them outside your door they will prob- \nably be blackened like a man\'s. Some Ameri- \ncan patent medicines and toilet articles may be \nfound in every large European city; but if you \nhave any convenience or remedy to which you \nare attached, and which does not take up much \nroom, by all means take it with you, for it is a \nnuisance to go chasing about in strange places \nfor prosaic trifles when you might better be \nusing your time in seeing something worth \nremembering. \n\nVery few American women can find ready- \nmade shoes or boots to fit them in Europe, even \nif they are in the habit of doing so easily at \nhome ; the shape of our feet seems to be peculiar. \nIt is therefore better, unless you are going for \na long time, to take enough to last until you \ncome back, especially as it is extremely fatigu- \ning to stand about while sight-seeing in shoes \nwhich are not comfortable. \n\nIt is also difficult to get good thin rubber \novershoes, and as they are not bulky you will \nbe wise to carry a pair. \n\nA rubber hot-water bottle with a separate \nflannel coat (because chambermaids are likely \n\n\n\n48 EUEOPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nto get the cover wet if it cannot be taken off) \nshould go with you everywhere, and a small \nfunnel is useful for filling it ; a tin box of \nmustard leaves may also prove invaluable. A \nclinical thermometer is another almost neces- \nsary article, and be sure that it is well tested \nand accurate. Try to find room for a small \nmedicine chest, or case, especially if you expect \nto be in out-of-the-way places. Of course you \nhope never to need anything from it, but it \nis better to bring it back unopened than to \nrun the risk of needing it sorely. For possible \ngeneral use the following things will be enough : \nA roll of adhesive plaster and a couple of small \nbandages ; a bottle of cholera mixture ; some \nquinine pills ; a good liniment for sprains, and \nany pills or liquid which you are in the habit \nof taking to ward off a cold. \n\nIf there is any mild laxative in which you \nhave faith, provide yourself with some of it, as \nyou will find it useful in travelling, and espe- \ncially at sea. \n\nThere are innumerable prescriptions for sea- \nsickness, each one warranted to be more effica- \ncious than the other, and none of them is a \npanacea ; but I have certainly had good results \nin my own case and with other people from \n\n\n\nPKEPARATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY 49 \n\nsome little granules made by Dr. Burggraeve, \nand belonging to what is called his " dosimetric " \nsystem. Those for seasickness are hyoscyamine \nand sulphate of strychnine, and you can get \nthem at any good apothecary\'s, in boxes each \nof which contains a number of tiny bottles of \nthe granules \xe2\x80\x94 the hyoscyamine is brown and \nthe strychnine white. If a person knows that \nshe has any constitutional weakness of the \nheart, she ought never to experiment with any \ndrug except under her physician\'s orders ; I \nmerely say that, of all the various remedies \nfor seasickness which I have seen tried, these \ngranules seem to be among the most useful, \nand they are certainly easy to carry. \n\nBe sure that any prescriptions you take with \nyou are legibly written. In all large cities \nthere are American and English pharmacies, \nbut it is better not to get anything compli- \ncated made up outside of them. " Grains " are \nunknown in the Continental pharmacopoeia, \n" grammes " being used instead ; and as a \ngramme is equivalent to about fifteen grains, \nin the case of a powerful drug a mistake would \nbe fatal. \n\nAs to thermometers, the English use Fahren- \nheit\'s, as we do : while the Centigrade is univer- \n\n\n\n50 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nsal on the Continent, except in Russia, some \nparts of Germany, and Switzerland, where Rea- \nmur\'s is used. The Centigrade or Celsius \nthermometer reckons zero as freezing and one \nhundred as boiling point. Reamur\'s starts in \nthe same way, but reckons boiling point as \neighty, whereas Fahrenheit\'s, the most irra- \ntional ever made, reckons freezing at thirty- \ntwo and boiling at two hundred and twelve. \n\nIf you are in the habit of consulting a ther- \nmometer, take one with you on which the three \ndifferent scales are marked, and this you can get \nat any good optician\'s. Should you not care to \ndo this, you will find an illustration of one at \nthe back of this book ; if you see in a Paris \nnewspaper that the thermometer is ten degrees \nCentigrade, by looking at the illustration you \nwill find that equal to fifty degrees Fahrenheit, \nand you will thus know how warm or cold you \nought to feel. As the degrees of the Centigrade \nthermometer are so much larger than those of \nthe Fahrenheit, the intervals between them are \nreckoned in tenths. This is worth remembering \nin case you consult a foreign physician. \n\nEven if you are travelling with very little \nluggage, you can find a corner in your bag, or \nin a trunk which will be always with you, for \n\n\n\nPRfiPARATIOKS FOR THE JOURNEY 51 \n\none of the small alcohol lamps or " Etnas," \nwhich are not larger than an ordinary tin mug, \nand may be found at any house-furnishing shop \nor department store. Take also a flat tin bottle \nwith a screw top for alcohol. If you are fond \nof tea, with this lamp you can always make \nyourself a cup; or if you want a little hot \nwater at any time, you are independent. There \nis still another reason for taking it. Many \npeople are extremely careful about the water \nthey drink, and yet peacefully brush their teeth \nfrom what they find on their wash-stands, which \nis not consistent, as microbes are invisible \nbeasts, and one is as good, or as bad, as a \nthousand. If you wish to take every precau- \ntion, therefore, you should boil the water for \nyour teeth, and then you may feel that you \nhave done everything in your power to escape \npossible danger. \n\nA portable rubber bath-tub is very little \ntrouble, as it may be carried in the kit, and it \nwill save its cost several times over. There \nare no bath-rooms in most foreign hotels, and \na charge, varying slightly with the grade of \nthe hotel, is always made for the tin tub which \nis brought into one\'s room. As this charge \nis usually only ten cents, the oldest or most \n\n\n\nc^ \n\n\n\n52 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nluxurious member of the party may be willing \nto afford that, and then any amount of cold \nwater and a more or less generous supply of \nhot will be brought for nothing to the other \nrooms, and with a rubber tub you may be just \nas clean. There are endless patterns of these, \nand one of the best, which I have used for \nyears, came from J. C. Cording, 19 Piccadilly. \nThose which inflate are at the mercy of the \ncasual pin-prick, but in this one the sides are \nheld up by something like whalebone, and it is \nvery durable. \n\nWith regard to what clothes you will need \non board ship, that depends a great deal upon \nthe steamer which you have chosen. On some \nof the very fashionable ones women are now \nsaid to dress almost as much as if they were \nat home, but that certainly seems unnecessary. \nHeroines in novels are always described as \nbewitchingly lovely at sea, but to more ordi- \nnary mortals it is decidedly trying. Unless \nthe hair curls naturally as tightly as a water \nspaniel\'s, it is soon blown into straight wisps, \nand a few days on deck will usually give a \nliberal coat of sunburn to the complexion. \nGirls on their first voyage often look as if the \nsteamer had carried them off from the dock by \n\n\n\nPREPARATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY 53 \n\nmistake ; but, on the other hand, old travellers \nwho keep old clothes for the ocean are apt to \nhave the air of pauper emigrants ; while one \nsometimes sees a despondent soul who gives \nup the struggle in despair and makes occasional \nvisits to the deck in a large cloak worn over a \nflowered dressing-gown. A cloth tailor-made \nsuit is by far the most appropriate, and one\'s \nshoes or boots should be particularly neat, as \nfeet are nowhere more evident than at sea ; \nrubber soles will make walking pleasanter and \nsafer, as the decks are often slippery ; and in \ncase of damp weather it is well to have thin \nwoollen gloves, as those of kid or dogskin soon \nfeel clammy and sticky. Two woollen dress- \nskirts and two pairs of shoes are necessary, as \nin case you get wet, as often happens, it takes \nhours to have your things dried somewhere \nin the mysterious depths of the ship. \n\nA proper hat for the sea is one that fits the \nhead closely, is trimmed neatly with ribbons or \nstiff feathers, and has a slight brim to protect \nthe eyes from the glare of the sky and water. \nIt should also be turned up at the back in order \nthat the head may rest against the steamer \nchair. Sailor hats with their stiff brims are \nuncomfortable unless one is always aggressively \n\n\n\n54 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nwell, and although yachting caps and "deer- \nstalkers" are convenient, they are also extremely \ntrying unless a woman is young and beautiful \nenough to wear anything. If people are able \nto go to the table at all they usually make an \neffort to dress for dinner; but for that a \ncouple of pretty blouses and a black satin skirt \nor something of the kind are usually quite \nenough. \n\nWraps trimmed with fur are not particularly \npleasant at sea, because if it is damp the fur \nsticks together and smells unpleasantly ; if, \nhowever, you have an old fur-lined cloak \nwhich has begun to shed itself too liberally, you \ncan make it comfortable for the steamer by \ncovering the fur with an inner lining of thin \nsilk or surah. You thus have all the lightness \nand warmth of the fur, and yet it will not get \ndamp nor wiU the hair come off on your cloth \nfrock. \n\nWarm underclothes, a thick rug, and an extra \nshawl are always useful, as the Atlantic is apt \nto be more than chilly, even in midsummer; \nand a little cushion covered with dark silk, to \nhang on the back of your deck chair, will make \nit more comfortable, besides being a luxury \nafterward in railway carriages. \n\n\n\nPREPARATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY 55 \n\nIt pays to get a good steamer rug, as the \ncheaper ones are apt to be heavy and clumsy, \nand you had better take it on your travels, \nas it is often cold in the mornings and even- \nings, and if you drive at all you will need it. \nIf you have a soft, thin shawl which is warm \nwithout being bulky, spread it over the top \ntray of your trunk and let it go with you : \nmany a time you will be glad to have a little \nextra covering on your bed, without the trouble \nof sending for it. \n\nIf, before you sail, some friend offers to make \nfor you anything you may want, ask her to hem \nsome pieces of plain white muslin, or of some \npretty flowered cotton stuff, large enough to \ncover the trays of your trunk, and to be well \ntucked in at the sides, to prevent the contents \nfrom jumbling about, as they love to do. Trifles \nlike this scarcely seem worth bothering about, \nbut they certainly add to one\'s comfort. \n\nAlthough the mercury in European ther- \nmometers rarely races up and down as many \ndegrees in the twenty-four hours as we are used \nto, if you are travelling, even in summer, you \nwill need a considerable range of clothing, to \navoid catching cold. There are now many little \nspencers and underbodices, woven of cotton, silk, \n\n\n\n56 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nor wool, which take up a very small space, \neither on the body or in a trunk, and you will \nfind a few of them useful. They are consider- \nably cheaper, I may say, in England or France, \non account of our customs duties. If you have \nroom in the bottom of your reserve trunk, you \nmight take one of the folding waste-paper bas- \nkets which are made of cardboard covered with \nchintz. When the ribbons which hold the side- \npanels together are untied, they lie quite fiat, \nand they weigh next to nothing. I only men- \ntion this as a possible convenience or luxury, \nbecause a waste-paper basket is never part of \nthe furniture of a hotel bedroom, and after you \nreceive your mail, or if you do any shopping, \nyou will have a litter of paper and envelopes \nlikely to vex a tidy soul, unless the weather \nallows you that handiest devourer of rubbish, \na fire. \n\nTake a supply of visiting-cards, even if you \ndo not expect to make a call while you are away, \nas they are everywhere looked upon as a proof \nof respectability, less official than a passport, \nbut almost as effective. Keep a few always \nwith you in your card-case or pocket-book \xe2\x80\x94 \nand by the way, it is only Americans, I believe, \nwho carry the latter in their hands. European \n\n\n\nPREPARATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY 57 \n\nwomen tuck them away somewhere, which \nseems safer. If you mean to be moving about \nmuch, it will be sensible to order a number of \nlarge envelopes lined with linen, and with your \nname printed plainly upon them. Everything \nis usually addressed to your principal banker, \neither in England or on the Continent, and he \nwill, according as you direct, either enclose all \nyour letters to you, or run his pen through the \naddress to him, and add the address to which \nyou wish him to forward it. It costs more to \nhave letters enclosed, because fresh postage \nmust be paid; but it is much more satisfactory, \nas everything comes together in one large \nenclosing envelope, instead of having to be \nsorted piecemeal from the pile at each banker\'s \nwhere you claim them. If you leave your large \nenvelopes with the first banker, he simply has \nto put the address of his correspondent where- \never they are to meet you, and if your name is \nat all an uncommon one, it is a great conven- \nience to have it -clearly printed. \n\nOn most ocean steamers now there is a fairly \ngood library, so that it is not necessary to lay in \na stock of books for the voyage, even if you \nexpect to be able to read, but a few novels and \nmagazines of your own never come amiss, and \n\n\n\n68 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nyou can leave them for your stewardess when \nyou are done with them. \n\nA few years ago the traveller on his way to \nEurope might always be known by the steamer \nchair which stuck out proudly on the top of \nhis luggage, and they still range themselves \noutside the trunk shops, a sure sign of spring. \nIt is quite unnecessary, however, to burden \nyourself, as there is a company which has \na stand on each ocean steamship dock, both \nhere and in Europe, and a dollar or its equiv- \nalent will hire one for the voyage, after which \nyou will have no further bother with it, \xe2\x80\x94 or \nelse the deck steward will rent one to you \nafter you go on board. In any case each \nmember of the party should have one for her- \nself. Take time to look them over and choose \na stout one with a high back against which you \nmay rest your head. Your card will be slipped \ninto a little frame on the back, but if you are \ncanny you will tie a small knot of some out- \nrageously gaudy ribbon round the top rail, \nwhere you will be sure to see it every time you \ncome on deck. On windy mornings, when the \ndeck is at an unnatural slant, and it has \nrequired heroic courage to emerge at all, one \nlittle blurred card looks much like another; but \n\n\n\nPBEPAEATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY 59 \n\na yellow ribbon with a red border will cheer- \nfully proclaim your chair to you, and will also \nprotect it from those squatters who do not \nhire any for themselves, expecting to take \nadvantage of the illness of other passengers. \n\n\n\nGUIDE-BOOKS, DICTIONARIES, AND \nNOVELS \n\nBegin to collect your guide-books as soon as \nyou decide where you are going. No matter \nhow much you may have read about the places \nyou mean to visit, such knowledge must neces- \nsarily be more or less disconnected, but in a \nguide-book you will find information in a \nhighly concrete form ; you can see just how \nmany miles it is from one city to another, how \nlong it will take you to make the journey, and \nall such practical details. \n\nThen, also, if you have friends who already \nknow the places you wish to visit, you can \nconsult them much more intelligently if you \nhave a book which will suggest questions, and \nwhich you may mark for future reference. \nRemember that it is no part of the business \nof a guide-book to make up your mind for \nyou; it is written to be useful to as many \ndifferent kinds of people as possible, and as \nyou cannot be equally interested in everything, \ntry to ask some one who knows your tastes \n60 \n\n\n\nGUIDE-BOOKS, DICTIONARIES, ETC. 61 \n\nwhat you had better make a point of seeing, \nand what you may omit. There are several \ngood Satchel Guides to Europe, but these are \nnecessarily rigorously condensed, and on the \nwhole, the best guide-books for English-speak- \ning people are those of Murray, and the trans- \nlations of Baedeker. Murray has excellent \ndescriptions of scenery and objects of histori- \ncal interest, and its literary quality is better, \nbut Baedeker is rather more convenient to take \nabout with you, and its advice as to the choice \nof hotels is fuller, and thought by some to be \nmore accurate. Be careful to get as recent an \nedition of either as you can, on account of \npossible changes in routes, etc. Besides the \nvolumes which include whole countries, Murray \nhas a separate one for London and another for \nRome, and Baedeker for London and for Paris. \nYou will find one of these indispensable for use \non the spot, as they tell you on which days \nthe picture galleries and museums are open, \nhow you can best see the most interesting \nsights, and altogether give you fuller informa- \ntion than is possible in those which must cover \na larger field. If you are familiar with French, \nyou will find the Guides Joanne and Guides \nConty very good, especially for France, and \n\n\n\n62 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nin both series there are a number of little \nmonographs, one for each district or town of \nany importance, which are extremely cheap, \nand easy to carry. As a general rule, when \nyou arrive at a new place, go to a bookseller \nand ask if there is not a local guide-book, as \nyou will usually find that one has been written \nby an enthusiastic resident, which will tell you \nmore than you can learn from any other source. \n\nDo not throw away your guide-books when \nyou are done with them, but send them home \nby post to some one who will give them house- \nroom until your return, as you will find them \ndelightful to refer to, and even a glance at \ntheir shabby backs will transport you to Cam- \nbridge or Avignon or Palermo as quickly as the \nwishing-carpet. \n\nHare\'s "Walks," in many different cities, are a \nvaluable supplement to Murray or Baedeker, \nand while you may not agree with all of Rus- \nkin\'s dogmas about art, he is worth reading in \nFlorence or Venice or Amiens. Mr. Henry \nJames\'s " Little Tour in France " is a charming \ncompanion in Touraine or Provence, and the \ndescriptions in his " Portraits of Places " are to \nthose in an ordinary guide-book what a real \nportrait is to a photograph. \n\n\n\nGUIDE-BOOKS, DICTIONARIES, ETC. 63 \n\nMr. Symonds and Mr. Howells have given \nmany people pleasure by what they have writ- \nten of Italy and Switzerland, and Miss Edwards\'s \n" Untrodden Peaks and Unfrequented Valleys " \nis a traveller\'s classic for the Italian Tyrol. \nThese are only a few of the books which will \nadd to your pleasure, and I have given the \nnames of a few more, after my notes of the \ncountries to which they relate. \n\nAs to dictionaries, the best small French one \nfor general use is that of Bellows ; Nutt\'s Con- \nversation Dictionaries, for several languages, \nare also very good, but not easy to get in this \ncountry. The Tauchnitz dictionaries of French, \nItalian, and German are not too large to carry \nabout, and those of Feller, the smallest of all, \nso far as I know, are wonderfully comprehen- \nsive, considering that they may be carried in \nthe pocket \xe2\x80\x94 or might have been a few years \nago ! \n\nIn Baedeker\'s "Traveller\'s Manual of Con- \nversation in Four Languages," you will find \nmany phrases which you can easily learn by \nheart, and Messrs. Cook & Co. have published \na handbook of the same kind which is rather \nsmaller, but very practical, and which costs \n\n\n\n64 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nThere are some novels which it seems almost \nobligatory to read in the places to which they \nrefer ; for instance, in every bookseller\'s win- \ndow in Florence you will find " Romola " in \nbindings of varying elaboration, and "The \nMarble Faun," and "The Last Days of Pom- \npeii," are as evident in Rome and Naples. \nWell known as these are, I have put them into \na partial list of historical novels (in making \nwhich my own memory was much helped by \nMrs. Dixson\'s exhaustive " Subject Index to \nProse Fiction "), and I have also ventured to \nadd a few of Scott\'s, although we are now \nsometimes told that he is no longer read. If \nScott\'s history is not trustworthy, that of the \nelder Dumas is still less so, and yet I strongly \nrecommend you to read some of his romances, \nif you have not done so already, as you will get \nfrom them a brilliant impression of what France \nwas like two or three hundred years ago. \nAmong English novelists, G. P. R. James and \nHarrison Ainsworth have been handed over to \nthe healthy omnivorous appetite of boyhood, \nand yet there are duller books than the form- \ner\'s " Cavalier," or the latter\'s " Constable of \nthe Tower." \n\nJane Austen\'s novels are a mirror of English \n\n\n\nGUIDE-BOOKS, DICTIONARIES, ETC. 65 \n\nmiddle-class social life in the last century, and \nyou may get the same faithful reflection of it, \nas it was a few years ago, in those of a writer \nwho, although he was not a genius, is now too \nlittle read \xe2\x80\x94 Anthony TroUope. Balzac created \na world of men and women who were often \nrather types than characters, but when he put \nthem in a setting of French provincial life, as \nin " Eugenie Grandet," or " Le Cure de Tours," \nthe effect is of absolute reality, and this is \ntrue, although in a less degree, of some of \nGeorge Sand\'s rural stories \xe2\x80\x94 " Frangois le \nChampi," for example. \n\nEven if you already know " Saracinesca," and \nthe other volumes of the same series, there are \nsome novels of Mr. Marion Crawford\'s which \nit is well worth while to read in the country \nwhich he knows as only a man can who loves it, \nand to whom the speech of its people is as his \nown. " Marzio\'s Crucifix " is unrivalled as a \nstudy of middle-class Roman society, which \nforeigners never see, and in many of his descrip- \ntions one feels how close he has come to the \nheart of the South. \n\nSignor Verga, who wrote the story of " Caval- \nleria Rusticana," and Signora Serao are among \nthe best known of the modern Italian novelists, \n\n\n\n66 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nand many of their books have been translated \ninto French or English. \n\nThe German historical novel is apt to be a \nsomewhat solemn and conscientious production, \nbut there are many studies of modern life, \nespecially in out-of-the-way places, which are \nextremely interesting. I have only given a few \nof these, but if you are fond of German you \nwill find out more, and I recommend to you the \nsketches of burgher-life in Berlin, by Dr. Julius \nStinde, which are called "Die Familie Buch- \nholz," and have been translated into English. \nThey are broadly humorous, but the humour \noften deepens into satire, and the characters \nare developed with admirable simplicity. \n\n\n\nABOUT BICYCLES \n\nThe roads in Europe are almost everywhere \nexcellent, and certain districts, such as the \nvalley of the Loire, are especially well adapted \nfor bicycling trips. It is not difficult to hire \nbicycles in any large place, but a woman who \nrides much gets used to her own, and may pre- \nfer to take it with her, especially as most of \nthe best American makers have offices in the \nlarge cities, where any serious accident may \nbe repaired. The steamship companies usually \ncharge two dollars and a half for transporta- \ntion, and the bicycle must be securely boxed \nor crated. \n\nMessrs. F. O. Houghton & Co., steamship \nagents, 115 State Street, Boston, publish a \nconcise and useful little pamphlet called " Bi- \ncycle Notes for Tourists," from which, by their \npermission, I have taken most of the following \ninformation. Brentano publishes a handbook \ncalled " The Cyclist\'s Continental Companion," \nwhich gives a summary of the principal routes \nin France, Italy, Germany, Switzerland, and \n67 \n\n\n\n68 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nHolland, and Spurrier\'s " Route Book of Great \nBritain and Ireland," which is published in \nLondon, has good maps and clear instructions \nfor the United Kingdom. \n\nBefore you start you should have your bi- \ncycle thoroughly overhauled and put in order \nfor hard work, and find out from the maker \nwhereabouts he has agents abroad. The num- \nber should be plainly stamped on some part of \nthe frame which cannot be detached, and your \nname put on a plate where it may be easily \nseen. A bell, a lamp, and a brake are abso- \nlutely necessary. If you cover all the nickelled \nparts of your bicycle with vaseline before \\t is \nboxed for the voyage, you will keep it from \nrusting, and you had also better take duplicates \nof any parts which are liable to break, and \ncould not easily be repaired in an out-of-the-way \nplace. \n\nThe Cyclists\' Touring Club of Great Britain \nand Ireland, commonly known as the " C. T. C," \nis one of the largest athletic associations in the \nworld, having a membership of about fifty thou- \nsand, and as it is international, and easy to \njoin, you should certainly do so. Its chief rep- \nresentative in America is Mr. Frank W. Wes- \nton, Savin Hill, Boston, and the entrance fee \n\n\n\nABOUT BICYCLES 69 \n\nis thirty cents, the annual subscription being \none dollar and thirty-five cents. Application \nto Mr. Weston should be made six weeks before \nyou intend to leave America, in order to allow \ntime for an answer from England, or if that is \nnot convenient you may wait until you reach \nLondon, as there is no duty on bicycles brought \ninto England. The executive offices of the \nAmerican division of the C. T. C. are at 47 \nVictoria Street, Westminster, and the secretary \nis Mr. E. P. Shipton. If you are a member of \nthe L. A. W., or of any recognized amateur \nbicycling club, no other reference is necessary ; \nif you are not, you are expected to bring " rea- \nsonable and satisfactory proof of respectability \nand position," which it is not difficult to do. \n\nThe advantages of belonging to the C. T. C. \nare various. While in England you profit by \nspecial rates at the inns and lodgings frequented \nby members of the club, and pay considerably \nless for your maps and road-books. \n\nWhen you first begin to ride remember with \nall your might and main that if you meet any \nperson or vehicle you pass to the left. The \nhabit of passing to the right is so ingrained \nwith us that unless you are careful you may \nhave a bad accident. \n\n\n\nTO EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nMembership in the C. T. C. is especially \nvaluable if you are going to the Continent, as \nit entitles you to bring your bicycle free of \nduty into France, Belgium, Italy, and Switzer- \nland, which will save you time, money, and \nmuch wear and tear of temper. Get all the \ninformation you can from the headquarters be- \nfore leaving England, and keep your member- \nship ticket where you will always be able to \nshow it easily. For Italy, you must be provided \nwith a special ticket ; in Austria, you are also \nrequired to have a passport, and in Switzerland, \na ticket, a full description of your bicycle, and \na photograph of yourself. \n\nThe " Touring Club de France " corresponds \nto the C. T. C, and has at least as many \nmembers. Its headquarters are at 5 Rue \nCoq-Heron, Paris, and its representative in \nAmerica, Mr. F. S. Hesseltine, 10 Tremont \nStreet, Boston. It is not difficult to become \na member, especially if you already belong to \nthe L. A. W. or the English Club, and the \nsubscription is one dollar a year, with twenty \ncents extra for an official guide giving the \nnames of hotels, repair shops, etc., where a dis- \ncount to members is allowed. Your card of \nmembership must have your photograph on it, \n\n\n\nABOUT BICYCLES 71 \n\nand the name and number of your bicycle, and \nwe are told that you have only to wear your \nbadge to be assured of courteous treatment \neverywhere. French railways transport bi- \ncycles as luggage, and are responsible for any \ndamage to them, but you can collect a larger \nindemnity if you have a first-class ticket. The \nvery considerable revenue derived from the \nannual license tax imposed on the bicycles of \nall permanent residents is used to improve the \npublic highways, and to place danger signals on \nthe crest of all steep descents. \n\nIn France, you pass to the right, as at home, \nbut certain rules are more rigorously enforced \nthan with us. You are required to have a \ngong or bell which can be heard for at least \nfifty yards. You must light your lamp as soon \nas the sun sets. The name and address of the \nowner must be on every bicycle. In crowded \nthoroughfares you must dismount and lead \nyour prosaic steed, and you may not go on \npavements or footpaths reserved for pedes- \ntrians, except in the country, if the roadway \nis being mended and is therefore impassible. \nIf you are thus on a footpath you must moder- \nate your speed if you meet any one. It is not \nallowable to form groups which may obstruct \n\n\n\n72 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nthe highway, and passing through a funeral or \na military procession is strictly forbidden. \n\nIn each country there are formalities which \nmust be observed, but if you are a member of \neither of the two great clubs you can easily \nobtain all the necessary information in regard \nto them. \n\n\n\nCROSSING THE OCEAN \n\nBe careful to get down to the steamer in \ngood time. The spectacle which may often be \nseen, of a cab galloping frantically along the \ndock, bearing a belated and haggard family \nwho rush up the gang-plank just as it begins \nto move, is very amusing to those who look on, \ncomfortably leaning over the rail, but not so \npleasant to the people themselves. \n\nAs soon as you are safely on board go to \nyour cabin and see that all your belongings are \nin it, and if not, try to find your cabin steward \nand set him to collecting them. Do not, how- \never, attempt to see the purser for any reason \nuntil the ship starts, as he will be much too \nbusy to be able to attend to you. \n\nWhen the ship has drawn away from the \ndock, it would be pleasant, if the day is fine, \nto watch the river and enjoy yourself on deck ; \nbut if you are wise, and especially if it is your \nfirst crossing, you will go down into your cabin \nand get everything in order while there is no \nmotion. Take off the frock you have been \n73 \n\n\n\n74 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nwearing and fold it neatly, for everything that \ncan get wrinkled or crushed at sea does so with \ndelight ; unpack your steamer trunk, put on \nthe frock you mean to wear during the cross- \ning, and put away in the bottom of your box \nthe one you wore aboard. If the hat in which \nyou mean to land is perishable, bring a band- \nbox in which to keep it, as if you hang it in the \nwardrobe of your cabin its feathers and flowers \nwill be apt to look decidedly melancholy after \na week of damp salt air. \n\nSettle your cabin as well as you can. Put \nyour cologne bottle where you can get at it \neasily, and your tin of biscuits near at hand, \nand if you use one of the drawers above your \nwashstand for your toilet things, be sure to \nspread something like a crumpled handkerchief \nin the bottom, or else as soon as the vessel \nbegins to roll they will clatter and click to- \ngether, to your exasperation. It ought not to \ntake you more than half an hour to get settled, \nand unless the weather has been extraordinarily \nbad, you will scarcely feel any motion for the \nfirst two hours after you leave the dock. \n\nIt is hardly likely that you will be alone, \nand if you are not, arrange with your com- \npanion which berth she is to take, and how \n\n\n\nCROSSING THE OCEAN 75 \n\nyou shall each best avail yourselves of the \nvery limited space at your disposal. During \nthe voyage, you must scrupulously respect each \nother\'s rights and be as considerate as possible ; \nfor instance, when you go to bed roll your \nclothes into neat parcels, and do not leave your \nskirts to swing to and fro with every roll of \nthe ship, or your shoes to knock about on the \nfloor. \n\nRing for your cabin stewardess, make her \nacquaintance, and ask her to send you the bath \nstewardess. Say to her that you hope to be \nable to take a bath each day, and choose the \nhour which will suit you best. Breakfast on \nboard ship is usually from eight o\'clock until \nten, and people who know they are good sailors \noften take their baths early, as they would do \nat home ; but those who are not sure to be so \ncourageous should choose half -past nine or ten \nfor their regular time, as one is usually awake \nby seven or half-past, and that allows a com- \nfortable interval after one\'s tea or coffee and \nyet gives time to dress before luncheon. \n\nWhen you have done all you can in your \ncabin, go in search of the steward whose busi- \nness it is to seat people at table, and tell \nhim you wish to be with your friends. This \n\n\n\n76 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nhe can always arrange, and if you are one of \na large party he will probably give you a table \nto yourselves, or at least see that you are all \ntogether. \n\nFind your way about the ship a little, and \nnotice what staircase leads most conveniently \nfrom your cabin to the saloon or the deck, \nand also where the ladies\' toilet room is. Then \nyou will have done everything you can below \nstairs, and had better go to the deck, interview \nthe deck steward, and tell him to take good \ncare of you and to put your chair in a shel- \ntered position every morning. \n\nHeroic souls usually say that if you are going \nto be seasick, you had better let it come, and \nthat you will feel all the better when it is over. \nIt is certainly true that you can do a great \ndeal to prevent feeling seasick by going on \nboard with your digestion and liver in good \norder, and that if you are tired out and bilious, \nyou will almost certainly succumb. I have \nknown old captains who confessed to having \nbeen upset after too many good dinners on \nshore. It may do you no harm to be sick for a \nfew hours, or a day or two, and you may feel \nperfectly well after it ; but for many women and \nyoung girls, especially if they are not very \n\n\n\nCROSSING THE OCEAN 77 \n\nrobust, it is a great strain. If you have had \nonly a moderate attack, as soon as you feel \nbetter try to eat, if only a little. Dry biscuit \nor toast and a bit of ham or tongue seems to be \nabout the best thing, and port wine, bitter \nale, or champagne the most refreshing drink. \nGinger ale is also good, if not found too \nsweet. \n\nIf you mean to try the hyoscyamine and \nstrychnine granules of Dr. Burggraeve, when \nyou first wake in the morning take one of \neach in a swallow of water, then wait a quar- \nter of an hour and take two more, until you \nhave taken four of each ; then wait a couple \nof hours and take two again if you feel at all \nsick, repeating them at intervals during the \nday, but not oftener than once in two hours \nafter the first doses. If the strychnine makes \nyour throat very dry, do not take them so often, \nnor the hyoscyamine if it makes you feel at \nall light-headed. \n\nFresh air is after all the best preventitive \nand cure for seasickness, and if you can strug- \ngle on deck, do so by all means, even if you do \nnot leave it until bedtime. The deck steward \nis used to feeding helpless passengers, and there \nare some on every steamer who never occupy \n\n\n\n78 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\ntheir seats at the table at all, but we will sup- \npose that you are to be more fortunate. \n\nIf you have anything the matter with you \nwhile on board ship beyond seasickness, or if \nthat lasts too long, you had better consult the \nship\'s physician, as every passenger steamer is \nobliged by law to carry one. He is not re- \nquired, however, to attend any except the \nsteerage and second-class passengers, and you \nshould pay him as much as you would your \nown doctor at home, although he will not send \nyou any bill. \n\nThe scale of tips depends somewhat upon \nthe cost of your cabin, and also upon the \namount of trouble which you give the attend- \nants. Remember, by the way, that the people \nwho wait on you are always known as " stew- \nards " and " stewardesses," and they are apt to \nfeel injured if called by any other name. \n\nOn the ships of the larger companies the cabin \nstewardess is supposed to receive twenty shil- \nlings, or its equivalent, for each room, which \nwould be equal to two dollars and a half \napiece if the room has two occupants, and the \ncabin steward, who helps the stewardess, ex- \npects five shillings. Three shillings is usually \nquite enough for the deck steward, unless he \n\n\n\nCROSSING THE OCEAN 79 \n\nhas waited on you a great deal ; the head \nsteward and your dining-room steward should \nhave five shillings, and your bath stewardess \nthree. I have said "shillings," but if you \ngo in a French or German steamer, francs or \nmarks represent the unit. \n\nThese tips are supposing you are practically \nwell all the time, able to go to your meals, and \ndo not give much trouble ; but if you have to \nbe fed on deck or in your room all the time, \nthe deck steward or your stewardess should be \nproportionately remembered, and if you have \nmuch kept in the ice-room, the pantry steward \nshould also have a couple of shillings. \n\nSome of the German steamship lines have \nmusic on board, which is furnished by the \nsecond cabin stewards, and they expect to \nreceive a small fee from each passenger. \n\nOne or two simple words connected with \nships are as well to learn as soon as you go on \nboard, if you do not know them before. There \nis no such thing as front or back, right or left. \nThe front of the ship is " forward," called " for- \nrard" or the "bow," the back is the "stern," \ncalled " aft." If you go to the front, you walk \n" forrard " or toward the " bow " ; if you go in \nthe other direction it is "aft" or toward the \n\n\n\n80 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\n"stern." The right side of the ship as you \nstand facing the " bow " is always called " star- \nboard" ; and the left side, "port." It is easy \nto remember which is which, if you will think \nthat " port " and " left " have both the same \nnumber of letters. \n\nFor purposes of discipline and to divide the \nwork fairly on board ship, the crew is mus- \ntered into gangs which are called watches, and \nare each on duty four hours. Time is kept \nby means of "bells." A bell is struck every \nhalf hour after midnight until eight bells \nhave been sounded, and then they begin again ; \nexcept between four o\'clock in the afternoon \nand eight o\'clock in the evening, when there \nare two short watches of two hours each, known \nas the "dog watch," and made in order that \nthe same men shall not always be on duty at \nthe same time. \n\nEight bells are struck at noon, at four p.m., at \neight P.M., at midnight, at four A.M., and eight \nA.M. For example, at half -past eight A.M., one \nbell is struck, at nine, two bells, and so on until \nnoon. In a very short time you can learn the \nway of counting by them, and need not trouble \nto keep your watch set by the ship\'s clock. \nThere is five hours\' difference in time between \n\n\n\nCROSSING THE OCEAN 81 \n\nEngland or France and America, and while 3^011 \nare on your way to Europe you will gain, because \nyou are going east. \n\nThere are always valiant souls on board ship \nwho behave exactly as if they Avere on land. \nThey dress early, appear in good time at the \nbreakfast table, and walk vigorously up and \ndown the deck between meals; but for most \npeople this is too energetic a routine. If you \nare an average sailor, as soon as you are \nfairly awake, ring for the stewardess, ask \nher to bring you your tea or coffee, and take \nwith that a bit of biscuit or toast. Then rest \nuntil you feel like having your bath, which will \nprobably be about half -past nine. That is usu- \nally one of the pleasantest occupations of the \nday, the warm or cold salt water in the large \nmarble or porcelain tub being a great luxury. \nIf you dress slowly after it you will probably \nget on deck about half -past eleven, in time for \nbouillon, which the steward brings on a tray, \nand then you will settle yourself in your chair, \nswathed like a cocoon in your rug, until lunch- \neon time. After luncheon the long stretch \nof the afternoon seems endless, but it goes by \nsomehow, and, as the dusk begins to fall, it is \ntime to dress for dinner. If you sit on the deck \n\n\n\n82 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nin the evening, be sure to wrap yourself up well, \nas it is always damper than in daytime. \n\nUnder ordinary circumstances, even if you \nhave suffered from seasickness, after the first \nfew days you will begin to recover and take an \ninterest in life again. You will even think \nof writing home. If you do, get your post- \nage-stamps from the purser in good time, and \nalso have your money changed, if you should \nneed it, as every one has a way of rushing at him \non the last day before reaching port, and his stock \nis sometimes exhausted. People travelling for \nthe first time sometimes forget that American \npostage-stamps are of no use in Europe, but it \nis the business of a ship\'s purser to keep those \nof the country in which you will land. \n\nAnd now a word as to your behaviour. It \nis a disagreeable fact that some American girls \ncontrive to put themselves at a disadvantage \nfrom the time they leave their own country. \nA ship\'s company is a little world with all \nsorts and conditions of men and women in it, \nand not all of them always unobjectionable. \nAs you are shut up together for some days, it \nis usually impossible, unless you have a large \nparty of your own friends, to keep entirely \naloof from other passengers, and a reasonable \n\n\n\nCROSSING THE OCEAN 88 \n\namount of liberty is allowed. For instance, \nif you are struggling along the deck against a \nhigh wind, trying to keep your wraps to- \ngether, the first man you meet will probably \nhelp you to your chair, and after a day or two \nyou will very likely have a speaking acquaint- \nance with people whom you never saw before \nyou came on board ; but that is no reason \nwhy such acquaintanceship should grow faster \nthan it would under normal circumstances on \nshore. Many girls have afterwards bitterly \nregretted having been too amiable when stran- \ngers tried to make friends with them at sea, \nand the very fact that you are so closely \nthrown together is a reason for your being \nmore careful than if it were easier to get away \nfrom each other. A pushing person, encour- \naged perhaps because you had nothing better to \ndo, may become an intolerable nuisance after \nyou land or when you are both at home again. \n\n\n\nENGLAND \n\nAt last, or all too soon, you are getting near \n" the other side," and we will suppose that you \nare going to land in England, in which case \nyou had better give a little time to studying \nthe different pieces of English money, which \nis somewhat perplexing until one gets used to \nit. That aristocratic but obsolete coin, the \nguinea, which has not been made for eighty \nyears and is not in circulation, is still constantly \nspoken of as a standard of value, meaning a \npound and a shilling, consequently two guineas \nis forty-two shillings. Although one com- \nmonly speaks of a five-pound note, or of four \npounds, one pound is almost always called a \nsovereign, ten shillings a half-sovereign, and \ntwo and sixpence is usually known as half-a- \ncrown. The crown, worth five shillings, is \nsometimes met with, but not so often as the \nsmaller silver coins, and there is a new four- \nshilling piece which is not looked on with \nfavour by English people. The difference be- \ntween the two-shilling piece and the half-crown \n84 \n\n\n\nENGLAND 85 \n\nis troublesome until you get to know them apart \nby the sense of touch. The half-crown is about \nthe size of our fifty -cent piece, although there is \nmore silver in it, but the two-shilling piece is \nbigger than our quarter. They all have on one \nside the head of Queen Victoria, and the half- \ncrown has on its back a single shield bearing \nthe arms of Great Britain. The old issue of \nthe two-shilling piece or "florin," as it was \nsometimes called, has four small shields so \narranged that they form a cross, which renders \nit easily distinguishable at a glance ; but the \nnew piece has three shields surmounted by a \ncrown, the whole making a triangle, which is \nnot nearly so noticeable. You should learn as \nsoon as possible to tell these coins apart easily, \nnot so much because you may pay the wrong \nmoney in a shop, for there you will be cor- \nrected, as because you may give either more \nor less than you intend in a tip, and in Eng- \nland the difference between two shillings and \nhalf-a-crown seems to be more than the mere \nmoney value. Shillings and sixpences are easily \nlearned ; the smallest silver piece is worth three- \npence ; then there are pennies and half-pennies \nof copper, and also farthings, though the latter \nare not common in fashionable London. \n\n\n\n86 \n\n\n\nEUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\n\n\nThe following comparison of the value of \n\nEnglish and American coins is very rough, and \n\nsimply made for your convenience. At any \n\nbanker\'s, or if you are sending a post-office \n\nmoney-order, you will be given the accurate \n\nrate. \n\nEnglish. American. \n\n\n\nHalf-penny (ha\'penny) \nOne penny \n\nTwopence (tuppence) \nThreepence (thrippence) \n\nA shilling \n\nTwo-shilling piece \nHalf-a-crown \nFour shillings \nFive shillings \nTen shillings \nA sovereign \n\n\n\nOne cent. \n\nTwo cents. \n\nFour cents. \n\nSix cents. \n/ Twenty-four cents (or our \nI quarter) . \n\nHalf-a-dollar. \n\nSixty-two cents. \n\nOne dollar. \n\nOne dollar and a quarter. \n\nTwo dollars and a half. \n\nFive dollars. \n\n\n\nBank-notes for five pounds (or twenty-five \ndollars) are the smallest denomination now \nmade in England, although Scotland still issues \nnotes for a single pound which, however, do \nnot pass current across her border. There is \nnothing in England corresponding to our \nnational bank system. The beautiful crisp \nwhite notes all come from "the old lady in \nThreadneedle Street," as the Bank of England \nused familiarly to be called, and as soon as a \n\n\n\nENGLAND 87 \n\nnote finds its way back to the bank, it is imme- \ndiately destroyed, even if it sliould be as fresh \nas when issued, the consequence being that the \nbank-notes are cleaner and pleasanter to handle \nthan those of any other country in the world. \n\nThe Bank of England is one of the sights of \nLondon, and the head beadle in his robes of \noffice one of the most august functionaries you \nwill ever encounter ; the lord chancellor him- \nself is not nearly so imposing. \n\nIt must be remembered that money goes \nmuch further abroad in some ways than it does \nwith us. So many Americans have been lavish \nin their expenditure, especially as to tips, that \nwe are as a nation expected to pay or give more \nthan other people, and it is hard at first to hit \nthe proper mean between stinginess and prodi- \ngality. On general principles I should say \nthat in the matter of fees a coin is worth about \ntwice as much as with us. Twopence or three- \npence (always called tuppence or thrippence) go \nas far as ten cents at home. Sixpence is equal \nto a quarter, a shilling to fifty cents, and half-a- \ncrown to a dollar. The scale of tips is higher in \nEngland than in Scotland or Ireland, because \nthe country is richer, and on the Continent one \ngives more in France than in Italy or Germany. \n\n\n\n88 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nAnd now let us go back to the steamer again, \nfor you must be nearing land. Do not leave \nyour packing until the last minute unless you \nare actually too ill to do it at all, because the \napproach to a strange country is always in- \nteresting, and it is stupid to be in your cabin \nwhile the vessel is going up the Mersey or \nthe Solent. If your port is Southampton, and \nyou are so lucky as to sail along the Isle of \nWight on a fair summer morning, you will be \nhard to please if you do not feel the charm of \nEngland. The sky is soft, with clouds nearer \nthe green earth than they are in our thinner air, \nand every colour has been mellowed by the \npersistent gentle touch of rain into a delicate \nhalf-tone. It is borne in on you that it has \nall been there for a long time, and if you have \nany English blood in your veins you know what \nHawthorne meant when he wrote of " Our Old \nHome." \n\nNearly all the steamship lines now land their \npassengers directly at piers; but in certain \nconditions of tide or weather they are sent \nashore in small tenders, which if it is wet is \napt to be a rather uncomfortable process. \n\nThe English custom-house is not very for- \nmidable, and women travelling alone are apt to \n\n\n\nENGLAND 89 \n\nhave an easier time than men because what \nevery custom-house looks out for principally \nis tobacco and spirits. French perfumery, to \nbe sure, pays a duty in England, but one has \nnot usually enough of that to make it worth \nconsidering. \n\nIf you bought your ticket through from New \nYork to London, it probably includes first-class \nrailway accommodations from the port at which \nyou land, and in after journeys you can decide \nfor yourself by which class you will travel. \nThe difference of fare from Southampton to \nWaterloo Station, a distance of seventy-nine \nmiles, is as follows: the first class is thirteen \nshillings; second class, eight shillings; third \nclass, six shillings and sixpence, just half the \nprice of the first. Many of the nicest English \npeople always travel third class, except per- \nhaps when they are going on long journeys, \nsuch as that between London and Edinburgh. \n\nFor ordinary distances, if you do not care \nabout being alone, third class is entirely prac- \nticable ; but if you are going through the \n"black country," or into the mining district, \nwhere there is a rough population (which you \ncan easily find out from your guide-book), it \n"will be, perhaps, wiser to choose first class. \n\n\n\n90 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nUnless you are much hurried, I advise you to \nstop for a few days at Chester or Winchester, \ndepending upon whether you have landed at \nLiverpool or Southampton. Both places are \nvery interesting and characteristic, and, although \nthey are on the highroad of travel, the greater \npart of it rushes past them, hurrying to the \ngreat city or to the sea. \n\nDo not be surprised if you feel languid and \ntired after landing ; that is frequently the \nresult of the voyage and also of the English \nclimate, which Americans are apt to find at first \nvery relaxing. By resting for a few days be- \nfore going into the stress of London, you will \ngive yourself time to get acclimated, and will \nalso get a first impression which no subsequent \ntravel will ever efface. \n\nWhen the porter has trundled the hand \nluggage of your party alongside the railway \ncarriage at the dock (for which sixpence will \nbe quite enough, unless you have a great deal), \nclimb in, and if you are the first, take places by \none of the windows and any others which you \nmay choose, but sit together at one end of the \ncarriage, and have your small pieces put in the \nrack above your heads. If there are people in \nthe carriage already, and you wish to be by your- \n\n\n\nENGLAND 91 \n\nselves, tell the porter that you want to speak to \nthe guard, as the conductor of an English train \nis called. When he comes, say to him that you \nwould like, if possible, to have a carriage for \nyour party, when he will unlock another at \nonce and you will find yourselves installed \nalone. For this, you will give him a shilling \nlater. When, however, the ship\'s company \nis very large, the special train sent to meet it \nis sometimes crowded, and even the most oblig- \ning guard cannot create space. \n\nThe question of the advantage or disadvan- \ntage of the European railway carriage is about \neven, like that of their luggage system. If you \nare lucky enough to have a carriage to yourself \nor with only one other person, supposing you \nare three in your own party, you have much \nmore privacy than is possible in a Pullman car, \nand you can also control at least one of the \nwindows, so that you need not stifle. The \nseats are also more comfortable than the Pull- \nman chairs, because one can move about more \nin them. But if the carriage is crowded, the \npeople seem more objectionably near than in \nour cars, and one person who objects to venti- \nlation may torture all the others by refusing \nto have the windows open at all. \n\n\n\n92 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nBefore you start, make up your minds how \nyou want to sit as to going backward or for- \nward. Seats in the English railway carriages \nface each other, and consequently half the \npeople must go with their backs to the engine, \nwhich many prefer, as the dust and wind fly \npast if the window is open, and not directly \ninto one\'s face ; but many people are made un- \ncomfortable by sitting backward during a long \njourney, and there is no glory in being an ama- \nteur martyr. The ideal travelling companions \nare two people, one of whom likes to sit facing \nthe engine and the other with her back to \nit, because between them they can control a \nwindow. \n\nAll railway companies are obliged by Act \nof Parliament to run one train a day at the rate \nof a penny a mile ; this goes very slowly, and \nis known as the " Parliamentary train," which is \npuzzling at first to Americans, as they naturally \nthink of something like the " Congressional \nlimited," which it does not resemble at all, as \nit is used almost entirely, like some of our \naccommodation trains, by country people who \nare in no hurry. \n\n"Bradshaw\'s Railway Guide," which is also \nissued for the Continent, is the classic English \n\n\n\nENGLAND 93 \n\nrailway time-table, and if you are clever in this \nbranch of literature, you will find it of great use. \nA simpler manual, known as the "A. B.C. Rail- \nway Guide," only gives the routes and fares to \nand from London ; but for that it is exceedingly \nuseful, as you can look up any place in the \nUnited Kingdom and see at once how to get \nthere from the metropolis and how to return. \nThe prices of the railway fares in each class are \nalso marked, and it has a map of London and a \nschedule of cab fares. \n\nLet me recommend you not to throw away \nyour time-tables when you are coming home. \n"Bradshaw," or its Continental fellows, the \nFrench " Indicateur des Chemins de Fer," or \nthe Italian " Orario," are useful for future \nreference because, although the times of trains \nmay change, the distance between places does \nnot, and the cost of travel remains about the \nsame. \n\nThe method of forwarding luggage in Eng- \nland will probably strike you at first as showing \na sublime confidence in human nature. When \nyou arrive at a station to go anywhere, you \ncall a porter, and point out the pieces which you \nwish to take into the carriage with you ; the rest \nare put upon a hand truck and wheeled away \n\n\n\n94 EUROPEAN TEAVEL FOE WOMEN \n\nto be labelled, you following. The truck is \npushed upon scales, and if you have an out- \nrageous quantity you are charged for it ; but \nthey are much more liberal as to this than on \nthe Continent. A little label with the name \nof the station to which you are bound is then \nstuck upon each piece, but you are given no \nreceipt, nor anything at all corresponding to \nour claim checks. Your belongings then trun- \ndle off toward the luggage van, and you feel \nas if you were never going to see them again. \nWhen you get to your journey\'s end, you go \nwith another porter to claim them, and in a few \nmoments your boxes have been extracted from \nthe mass and are again collected on a small \ntruck. Here the advantage of some distin- \nguishing mark on the end of a trunk is obvious, \nas you can say, " All those with the black cross \n(or the red spot) are mine." In the beginning, \nyou miss the system of baggage transfer and \nchecking ; but when you have been abroad for \nsome time you see that the other plan has its \nadvantages, one being that when you arrive at \na place you get your luggage at once, and you \nalso have it with you until just before you start. \nIt is, of course, very convenient to be able to \ngive one\'s checks in the train and not have to \n\n\n\nENGLAND 95 \n\nthink of them again ; but we have all of us \nknown what it was to be solemnly assured by a \ntransfer agent that our luggage would arrive \n" within an hour," and to be still without it at \nthe end of five. It is the fashion to abuse the \nforeign system, but from my own experience \nand that of many others whom I have known I \nbelieve that the percentage of loss is certainly \nnot greater than it is in this country. \n\nOn some English railways a method somewhat \nlike that of our checking is now coming into use ; \nbut the old way is not really so hazardous as it \nat first seems, because every one goes, or sends \na servant, to claim his luggage as soon as he \ngets to his destination, and any one else who \nattempted to do so would be promptly arrested. \nIf you go from London to Cobham, for in- \nstance, your box, which has been duly marked \n" Cobham " before you start, is put out on the \nstation platform there, and you identify it at \nonce. \n\nIn case you have to change from one train to \nanother, if you are prudent you will make sure \neach time that your luggage changes with you ; \nalthough, if you are able to buy a through \nticket, your luggage will be labelled with the \nname of its final station when you start. \n\n\n\n96 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nThere is no local express in England ; every \none carries his own belongings on the roof of \nhis cab, which in the country and in small \ntowns is called a \'\'fly." According to the \ndictionary this is "a light vehicle which plies \nfor hire" \xe2\x80\x94 it is certainly not named from \nits speed. \n\nThere are many cabs always waiting at every \nstation in London, and you will probably never \nneed anything else, but if by any chance you \nshould be travelling with a large party who \nhave a quantity of luggage, you may as well \norder a station omnibus to meet you, which is \nvery easy to do. \n\nFind out at which of the many London sta- \ntions you are due, and address the station \nmaster, saying, \'\' Have omnibus meet train at \nfour o\'clock, " or whenever the time is, and sign \nyour full name. \n\nInside the station you will find a row of omni- \nbuses drawn up near the train, and if you walk \ndown the line, saying, " Which is the omnibus \nfor so and so ? " when you come to the right \nman he will answer, and hold out your own \ntelegram as a voucher. Then, when your lug- \ngage has been collected, it is put on top of the \nomnibus, and you all get inside and are driven \n\n\n\nENGLAND 97 \n\nwherever you wish to go ; and when you are \ncome to your lodgings or hotel, you ask the \nporter or servant at the door to pay for the \nomnibus and give the driver whatever is right, \nand put it on the bill. \n\nIn Europe the telegraph is under the control \nof the government instead of being managed \nby private companies, and in England it is con- \nducted in connection with the post-office. The \nmanner of sending a telegram differs from ours. \nYou ask for a blank, or " form " as it is called, \nwrite what you want to say, and then show it \nto the clerk at the window, who will look at it, \ntell you what it costs, and give you several \npostage-stamps ; these represent the price of \nyour telegram and are to be stuck by you \non the blank as if for the postage on a letter ; \nthen you hand it in through the window to \nhim again. \n\nTelegrams may be sent to all parts of the \nUnited Kingdom at the rate of sixpence for \nthe first twelve words, but these words include \nthe address of the person to whom it is sent. \nEach word beyond twelve costs a halfpenny. \n\nIn most provincial towns in England the tel- \negraph offices are open from eight to ten a.m. \non Sundays ; and in Scotland and Ireland from \n\n\n\ny\xc2\xbb EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nnine to ten A.M., instead of between five and \nsix P.M. as with us. \n\nNo sensible person will drop into the world \nwhich is London without having an idea before- \nhand of where to go, and as to this you had \nbetter consult friends who have already been \nthere. The huge hotels built to attract Ameri- \ncans are of all degrees of splendour and costli- \nness, and they must serve their purpose, or their \nnumber would not increase ; but they are really \nas alien to England as are the palm trees in \ntheir halls. \n\nThe pleasantest months of the year in Lon- \ndon are May, June, and July, but during that \ntime " the season " is in full swing, and every- \nthing is crowded ; if you mean to be there then \nit is really necessary to engage your rooms \nbeforehand. \n\nWhen an Englishman comes "up to town" \nwith his family he stops either at a small hotel \nor in lodgings ; and both of these are scattered \neverywhere in London, their price depending on \nthe neighbourhood. In the strangers\' quarter \nnear Bond Street and Piccadilly, both hotels \nand lodgings are dearer than anywhere else. \nEnglish people often prefer the neighbourhood \nof Sloane Street or " out Kensington way," \n\n\n\nENGLAND 99 \n\nwhich has, however, the disadvantage of being \nrather remote for strangers. If you do not \nmind being unfashionable, there are very pleas- \nant lodgings in many of the small streets off \nthe Strand, or near the Marble Arch, at the \nOxford Street end of Hyde Park; the whole \ndistrict around the British Museum is also full \nof them, for the convenience of students. \nPrices vary so much that it is hard to set any \nstandard, but two good bedrooms and a sitting \nroom may be had for two guineas a week, and \nthat in a desirable neighbourhood. The Eng- \nlish idea is that each lodger shall have as much \nprivacy as possible ; there is no common dining \nroom, and each family is served in its own \nsitting room. You ring the door-bell, are ad- \nmitted by a servant, go to your own rooms, \nand when you are ready to go out you go down \nagain, and between those times you are as much \nalone as if you were in your own house. \n\nThere are two arrangements possible to \nmake about your meals. You may either order \nwhat you like and the landlady will buy it, or \nelse you may agree to pay so much a day for \nbreakfast, luncheon, afternoon tea, and dinner ; \nthis latter plan is considerably less expensive, \nbesides saving the traveller trouble. \n\nU.#0. \n\n\n\n100 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nIn the lodgings which cost two guineas a \nweek, one shilling was charged to each person \nfor breakfast, a shilling and sixpence for lunch- \neon, sixpence for afternoon tea, and half-a- \ncrown for dinner, with no charge for any meal \nif the lodgers gave notice beforehand that they \nwere not to be at home. This made the board \nand lodging for two people cost about thirteen \ndollars a week. \n\nIf you do not wish to go home for luncheon, \nthere are a great many restaurants in London \nrun by the Aerated Bread Company, known as \nthe " A.B.C.\'s," which are fairly good and per- \nfectly respectable ; a lady may go to one of \nthem alone with entire propriety. \n\nThe small hotels differ only from lodgings \nin that they hold more people, usually anywhere \nfrom twenty to forty. Families staying there \nare also often served in their rooms, but there \nis a general dining room, called a "coffee room," \nin which you may have your meals at a little \ntable. Even in the larger hotels there is no \nladies\' entrance, but only one door through \nwhich men and women alike come and go ; nor \nis there any office where cigars, newspapers, \ntheatre tickets, etc., are sold. \n\nI do not know what there may or may not be \n\n\n\nENGLAND 101 \n\nin the great hotels run chiefly for foreigners ; I \nam speaking of the smaller ones in which ladies \ntravelling alone would naturally prefer to stay. \nThere is nothing corresponding to the Ameri- \ncan plan. There may be, and often is, a fixed \nprice for luncheon and dinner ; but you pay \nwhen you take your meals in the hotel, and \nnot when you are out. The usual English \nbreakfast consists of tea, fried bacon or a bit \nof fish, muffins, and marmalade or jam. You \nmay order coffee if you prefer it, but if you \nwant meat it is charged extra. For luncheon \nthere are several cold meats, all of them ex- \ncellent ; you are given your choice of cold \nbeef, cold chicken, and cold ham, and there \nare usually potatoes and some vegetable belong- \ning to the cabbage family. Salad and cheese \nfollow. If you are dependent on hot meat, \nyou must order it beforehand, and pay for it \nextra. Tea and coffee are never drunk except \nwith the first meal in the morning and late in \nthe afternoon ; for luncheon and dinner almost \nevery one in England and on the Continent \ntakes either wine, spirits, ale, or mineral water. \nEnglishmen seem to be as dependent as women \non their afternoon tea, however, and in the \nmost out-of-the-way places it is easy to get. \n\n\n\n102 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nThe day after you reach London you will \nprobably want to go to your banker\'s, to draw \nsome money. Take your letter of credit, which \nis also your letter of introduction, and leave \nyour address so that the clerk may forward \nany letters which come for you. If you expect \nto spend some time in London, and also a good \ndeal of money, you may draw out a sum on \nyour letter of credit, and deposit it with the \nbanker, who will then give you a cheque-book, \nand you may draw against your deposit. This \nis sometimes done where you mean to make a \nlong stay, but for a short visit it is simpler to \ndraw what money you want, and pay your bills \nin cash. \n\nThe method of getting money on your letter \nof credit is simple and always the same. You \nhand it to the clerk and say how much you \nwant ; he then, after a while, brings you a slip \nof paper with the memorandum of the amount, \nwhich you sign. Be careful to write your \nname exactly as you have already done on \nthe letter of credit, as it is by the comparison \nof the two signatures that the banker is able to \nbe sure that you are yourself. The memo- \nrandum is a receipt which he forwards to the \noriginal banking-house, to show how much you \n\n\n\nENGLAND 103 \n\nhave drawn, and the sum is also marked on \nyour letter of credit ; in this way you can \nalways tell just how much you are spending. \n\nMake it a rule not to draw much money at \nany one time. It is troublesome to go to the \nbanker\'s, but much more so to be robbed, of \nwhich there is ahvays a chance. \n\nIf there is any reason why you should call \nat the American Embassy, it is proper to do \nso within a day or two after your arrival, but \nit is not a necessity. \n\nMany Americans seem to think that ambassa- \ndors are sent abroad in order to act as masters \nof ceremonies to their fellow country people, \nbut this is an erroneous impression. Your am- \nbassador will protect your rights if they should \nbe in any way threatened ; you are perfectly \njustified in appealing to him if you are wrong- \nfully arrested, if there is any attempt made to \nextort money from you, or if you are unjustly \ntreated in any way ; but it is unreasonable to \nexpect that he shall get you invitations, or \neven to think that he is bound to entertain you \nhimself. If you are in London on the Fourth \nof July, the house of your ambassador will be \nopen to you as to all other Americans ; but if \nyou have not known him at home, you have \n\n\n\n104 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nno right to consider yourself slighted if you \nare not invited to any other entertainment. \n\nYou will certainly soon want to go to some \nshop where you may buy guide-books, maps, \netc. Either at Smith\'s, 63 Charing Cross, or \nStanford\'s, 26 Cockspur Street, among others, \nyou will find any amount of these, and can \nchoose just what you want, whether you intend \nto bicycle, to visit the cathedral towns, to make \npilgrimages to historic spots, or, in fact, to do \nanything for which you will need guides. It \nis a great mistake to attempt, as some people \ndo, to get on without them, just as it is a mis- \ntake to avoid what are called "beaten paths." \nPaths are beaten because they lead from one \ninteresting place to another, and the things \nwhich are described in the guide-books are gen- \nerally those best worth seeing. Vainglorious \nsouls who go through foreign galleries con- \nvinced that they will be sure to find the most \nremarkable pictures, will simply waste a great \ndeal of time over second-rate masters which \nthey might better have given to those who are \nreally great. \n\nYour stock of guide-books may be limited \nonly by your capacity to take them about with \nyou. Baedeker is the traveller\'s maid-of-all- \n\n\n\nENGLAND 105 \n\nwork ; of it and Murray I have already spoken, \nand there is at the end of this section a list \nof some other books which you may find pleas- \nant and useful in England. \n\nThe sights of London are enough to last one \na lifetime, but there are some which may \nalmost be called obligatory, and among these is \nWestminster Abbey. Sir Christopher Wren \ndid not improve it when he added towers in the \ntaste of his day, and the extraordinary collec- \ntion of statues which throng its aisles and \nnave is certainly not artistic as a whole, and \nyet any one who cannot feel a very distinct \nemotion when she first enters its doors is much \nto be pitied. \n\nThe best time to go there is on Monday or \nTuesday, because those are free days. Of \ncourse there is a crowd, but it is an exception- \nally well-behaved one, and yon may wander \nabout at your will and see as much as you \nlike, whereas on the other days when you \nhave to pay sixpence or a shilling you are \nhurried along by a verger in about fifteen \nminutes, and have no time to look at anything. \nHare\'s account of Westminster Abbey is fuller \nthan that given in either Murray or Baedeker, \nand neither of them call attention, as he does, \n\n\n\n106 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nto one of the most curious sights to be seen \nthere. By paying threepence on Mondays and \nTuesdays, and on other days sixpence, you are \nallowed to climb a steep, winding stair above \nthe Islip Chapel, and there in a little room are \nthe " Effigies," which are life-sized figures with \nwax faces, once carried at the funerals of the \npeople whom they represent; eleven now re- \nmain, one of the most curious being that of \nQueen Elizabeth. \n\nYou will also want to see the Houses of \nParliament, which are shown to strangers on \nSaturdays when Parliament is sitting, and \noftener, I think, when it is not. The English \nare individually and as a nation the greatest col- \nlectors in the world, and the British Museum, \nthe South Kensington Museums, and the Na- \ntional Gallery are worth all the time you can \npossibly give them ; indeed, if you know the \nlast well you will have a very good idea of the \ndifferent schools of painting before you meet \nthe masters on their own ground in the Conti- \nnental galleries. This talent for amassing and \nclassifying is not compatible with a sense of \ndramatic effect, which the English rather de- \nspise as an attribute of the Latin races, and the \nconsequence is that several of their grandest \n\n\n\nENGLAND 107 \n\nmonuments do not produce the impression \nwhich they properly should. The Tower is a \nstriking instance of this ; before you go, and \nafter you come away, if you have any historical \nsense you must be conscious of the accumula- \ntion of history for which the great building \nstands ; but while one follows the Beefeater \non his round one sees so many things, all \ncrowded together, some interesting and some \nnot, that it is hard to feel anything except \nthat one is accomplishing a duty. \n\nIf you are interested in human nature, learn \nto watch the people of a place when they are \nsight-seers, like yourself, for then they are \nusually absorbed, and therefore unconscious \nand natural ; the types which you will see at \nthe Tower, or in Westminster Abbey on a free \nday, are entirely unlike those which you may \nmeet in a little while at the Invalides or in \nNotre Dame. Let me repeat the advice I have \ngiven already, not to spend too much time at a \nstretch in a gallery or museum ; an hour and \na half or two hours should be the utmost limit \nof the visit ; after that the brain becomes like \na soaked sponge, and, although you may think \nyou are noticing things, you will not remember \nthem. \n\n\n\n108 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nTry to plan your going about so that you will \nnot waste more time than is necessary. London \nis vast beyond comparison with any other city, \nand unless you arrange your sight-seeing with \nsome sort of method, or your visits or errands, \nwhichever they may be, you will lose half your \nday. \n\nIn making your list of sights, do not be \nmisled by the words " open daily," as that never \nincludes Sunday unless it is distinctly so stated; \nmany more places are now open than formerly, \nbut it is well to make sure before risking \nan expedition. If you can get an order of \nadmission from a Fellow of the Zoological \nSociety, by all means go to its Gardens on a \nSunday afternoon, but they are absolutely \nclosed to the general public on that day. \n\nLondon is rather dreary on Sundays, espe- \ncially in the spring, and if possible you should \narrange to go to Hampton Court, Richmond, \nthe Crystal Palace, or somewhere else, as you \ncan. The disadvantage is that all trains are \ncrowded, but if you are willing to pay first- \nclass fare you will nearly always find plenty of \nroom. \n\nInstead of going all the way to Hampton \nCourt by rail it is pleasant to take the train \n\n\n\nENGLAND 109 \n\nto Richmond, and after landing there to hire \na rowboat and go the rest of the way by \nwater. From London to Richmond the Thames \nhas nothing to show but muddy banks, but from \nRichmond to Hampton Court it is charming in \nsummer, and you will see the house-boats on \n" the stream of pleasure," and the villas by the \nshore. Then you can go back to Richmond \nby a coach, and from there to London by \ntrain or boat, or else you can go directly by \ntrain from Hampton Court. \n\nThe excursion to Greenwich by the penny \nboat is not in itself particularly attractive ; \nbut you get an effective view of part of the \nwater front of the monstrous city, and you \nwill probably be surrounded by a character- \nistic though perfectly respectable crowd of \nthe lower class of Londoners. And if the next \nSunday after church, during the season, you \nwill take a chair at Hyde Park corner while \nsome of the handsomest men and women in \nthe world, belonging to the English upper \nclass, walk up and down, you can form a good \nidea of the mighty strength of our common \nrace. The impression left in the traveller\'s \nmind by London is that of power, as in Paris \nit is of beauty, and in Rome of historic charm. \n\n\n\n110 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nWhatever you do, try to avoid being in Lon- \ndon on a Bank Holiday, and if you must be \nthere do not try to go out of it. Some of \nthe Bank Holidays correspond with the festi- \nvals of the calendar, such as Good Friday, \nEaster Monday, Whit Monday, and Christmas \nDay, but besides these the first Monday in \nAugust is kept, and the day after Christmas, \nalways known in England as " Boxing Day," \nbecause any one who has the slightest claim \non you (and many who have not) then expect \na small Christmas box, or tip. The Bank \nHoliday which falls on the first Monday in \nAugust may well take you unawares, because \nwe are not used to anything of the kind at \nhome, and if you attempt to go out of London \non that day you will find the experience more \ncurious than pleasing. Every railway is \ncrowded with trains almost touching each \nother, each one jammed full of excursionists, \nor, as they are called there, "trippers." It \nseems as if London had emptied itself toward \nany place of amusement at all accessible ; \nthere are few first-class carriages on the trains \nbecause there would be few people to go in \nthem, and the roads are so crowded that you \nare certain to be behind time. \n\n\n\nENGLAND 111 \n\nThe best and pleasantest way to see the streets \nis to ride on the tops of the "busses." The \nclimb is formidable, but the guard is always \nthere to help you, and if you possibly can, try \nto sit near the driver, who, if he is properly \napproached, will give you any amount of infor- \nmation, and loves to discourse. \n\nLondon is covered with a network of omnibus \nlines which are owned by private individuals, \nand there is great rivalry among them. Do not \ntry to decide for yourself which one you want, \nfor there are myriads, each one so covered with \nadvertisements that it is almost impossible to \nsee from whence it comes or where it is going. \nIt seems strange to an American to find a \npoliceman always at hand, but they are in \nLondon, and will cheerfully tell you which \nomnibus to take. On Sundays many of these \nare used for excursions into the country, and \nyou can often take little trips in this way for a \nvery small sum. \n\nIt is also almost incredible, but in Europe an \nomnibus or tram will not stop for you when \nit is already full. If you hail one in Lon- \ndon and there is no place either inside or out, \nthe driver takes no notice and the conductor \nshakes his head. It is sometimes annoying to \n\n\n\n112 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nhave two or three trundle past in this manner, \nbut that is made up for by the certainty of a \nseat when at last one stops. \n\nCab fares in London are calculated at the rate \nof one shilling for two miles, and sixpence for \nevery additional mile within the four mile \nradius, which is reckoned from Charing Cross. \nThe fare for hansoms and four-wheelers is the \nsame. If you are in doubt as to how much \nto give, look at your watch when you get in, \nand pay at the rate of a penny a minute. \nThis will allow ten miles an hour, a rate at \nwhich they never go, although they drive \nfast, and therefore it is a perfectly safe esti- \nmate. If you want to go for a long dis- \ntance, any policeman will always tell you the \nfare before you start. If you take a cab by the \nhour, it is two and sixpence for the first hour \nand two shillings an hour afterward, and if you \nhave a cabby for some time, it is usual to give \nhim a little more than his fare, but there is no \nobligatory tip as on the Continent. No matter \nhow short a distance you drive, you never give \nless than a shilling ; and if you take a cab from \none of the many stands which are everywhere \nin London, the man at the head of the line has a \nright to be hailed first, because each cabby, as he \n\n\n\nENGLAND 113 \n\ncomes back, takes his place at the end of the file, \nand thus moves up gradually. There is noth- \ning to prevent your choosing any cab in the \nrank, if the horse in the first cab seems poor \nor tired ; but other things being equal, it is \nwell to be fair. The horses in hansoms are \nusually better than those in four-wheelers, and \nthe cabbies more amiable, and they certainly \ndrive faster. \n\nThere is no city in the world in which it is so \neasy for ladies to go about in the evening as in \nLondon. When you are ready to leave your \nhotel or lodgings, tell the servant at the door \nwhether you want a hansom or a four-wheeler ; \nhe or she will then blow a little whistle \xe2\x80\x94 twice \nfor the former and once for the latter \xe2\x80\x94 and in a \nmoment they will seem to spring up from the \nground like boys at an accident. Sometimes \ntwo or three of them converge toward the \nsound, and the shrill blast is one of the most \ncharacteristic of modern London street noises. \n\n(There is only one time in the week when \nthis does not hold good, and that is on Sunday \nmorning between nine o\'clock and noon, when \nyou may whistle in vain, and if you are going \nout of town it is well to order one from the \nnearest stand the day before.) \n\n\n\n114 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nLondon cabbies are a very decent lot, but it \nis as well to ask before you leave your lodgings \nhow much you should pay when you get to \nyour friend\'s house, or to the theatre. Have \nyour change ready, especially if you are going \nto the play, as there will be no time at the door \nfor discussion ; and, when you come out, tell \nthe " commissionaire" on duty at the theatre, \nwho is usually a retired soldier, that you want \na hansom, or if it is wet a four-wheeler, and he \nwill produce one for you in a moment, for which \nyou give him threepence. Of course it is im- \npossible to guarantee that nothing will ever \nhappen to you, but, as a matter of fact, any \nannoyance is very rare, as each cab has its \nnumber plainly displayed, and the cabby knows \nthat he would meet with but short shrift at the \nnearest police court if he annoyed you. You \npay a little more after night than you do in \nthe daytime, although it is not obligatory \nbefore midnight. \n\nIf you chance to leave anything in a cab, \nyou can almost always get it again by apply- \ning at the police headquarters in Scotland \nYard. \n\nLadies can go without a gentleman to any \nrespectable theatre in London, as at home, but \n\n\n\nENGLAND 115 \n\nif you sit in the stalls, wliicli correspond to \nthe orchestra with us, you must be in evening \ndress, which means anything from a ball gown \nto a pretty blouse. The custom of dressing \nfor dinner is universal among the upper classes \nin England, and the play often takes up merely \na part of their evening, as they go on to some \nother entertainment later, therefore it is not \nuncommon to see a woman as much dressed as \nif she were in a box at the opera in America; \nbut, on the other hand, you can go perfectly \nwell as you would to a small dinner at home, \nbut always with nothing on your head. There \nis a room provided in which you may leave \nyour bonnet if you have worn one, but most \nEnglish women go without. At the smartest \ntheatres now, especially if their proprietors \nhave been in America, the programmes are \ngiven free; but in some of the older ones you \nare expected to pay a trifle, usually threepence, \nand if you leave hats or cloaks you give the \nattendant sixpence for the party when you get \nthem again. \n\nIf you happen to be passing a theatre to \nwhich you want to go, it is usually not hard to \nget good seats at the box-office, but if it is out \nof the way you will save trouble by ordering \n\n\n\n116 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nthem from one of the agents who sell them at \na slight advance, as with us. Mitchell, 33 Old \nBond Street, and Keith and Prowse, who have \nseveral offices, are among the best known of \nthese agents, but there are many more. The \nprice for stalls is usually ten shillings and six- \npence, and for the dress circle six and sixpence, \nwhich is dearer than in America or France; \nstalls at the opera are a guinea, and if you \nhave a chance to go on a " gala night " do not \nmiss it, as the beauty and the jewels of the \nEnglish women are unrivalled. \n\nAs it rains intermittently in London, and the \nstreets are consequently often covered with a \nthin coating of sticky mud, the crossing sweeper \nis a regular institution. Some of these men \noccupy the same posts for many years, and are \nknown to every resident of the neighbourhood, \nand it is usual to give them a penny or two \nevery now and then as one passes, for they are \nnot considered exactly as beggars, and their \nservices are very useful if one wishes to keep \none\'s shoes neat. \n\nIt is not necessary to give details regarding \nthe English post-office, as the officials are ex- \ntremely polite and will tell you anything you \nwant to know. The parcel post is very con- \n\n\n\nENGLAND 117 \n\nvenient, and you can send almost anything \nanywhere, provided it is not more than three \nfeet six inches long, and does not weigh more \nthan eleven pounds. This service takes the \nplace of our express companies. \n\nWith regard to shopping, there are half a \ndozen great establishments, one as good as the \nother, where you can get almost anything that \na woman is likely to want in the way of clothes; \nand English hosiery, although more expensive \nthan that made on the Continent, certainly \nwears longer. All these large shops have \n" summer sales " in July, and it is worth while \nto take advantage of these if you do not mind a \ncrowd. They are not bargain sales for pur- \nposes of advertisement, but part of the regular \nroutine of the year, and stuffs of all kinds may \noften be bought for not more than half their \nactual value. Marshall and Snelgrove\'s at one \nend of New Bond Street, Lewis and Allenby\'s, \nSwan and Edgar\'s, and Howell and James\'s, in \nRegent Street, and Peter Robinson\'s, in Oxford \nStreet, are among the best known of these large \nshops. Jay\'s, in Regent Street, is the great \n" mourning warehouse," and not far off, in the \nsame street, is Liberty\'s, its windows shining \nlike rainbows with silks and gauze. \n\n\n\n118 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nThe shops in New Bond Street are said to be \nmore expensive than any others ; next comes \nRegent, and then Oxford Street, which is natu- \nral enough, as New Bond Street is the fashion- \nable shopping centre of the West End. Prices \nfall with shop rents, as one goes further away \nfrom it in any direction, and if you want to \nsave your pennies you must keep your eyes \nopen and compare the price tickets in one win- \ndow with those in another. Do not be be- \nguiled, however, into going into small shops, \nunless you know of them from English friends, \nbecause the goods are usually more expensive \nthan those in the large ones ; this only applies, \nof course, to what is known as "haberdashery," \nSome years ago a number of people who were \ndissatisfied with the high prices charged by \nretail dealers, formed a joint stock association \nto supply goods to its members at moderate \nprices, for ready money payments, and the plan \nwas such a success that there are now more \nthan thirty of these associations in London, the \nlargest being the Army and Navy Cooperative \nStores, 105 Victoria Street, Westminster, the \norigin of which is shown by its name. Each \nmember has a number which is changed each \nyear, and has the privilege of lending the use \n\n\n\nENGLAND 119 \n\nof this number to his or her friends. By this \nmeans the sales of the association are increased, \nand as cash must be paid for everything it \nruns no risk of loss, so you are not putting \nyourself under too great an obligation if you \nask any English person of your acquaintance \nwho is a member, if you may use his or her \nnumber. \n\nYou will probably have noticed the great \nnumber of dogs which follow their masters and \nmistresses everywhere in London ; they are not \nallowed in the " stores " where they would be a \nnuisance on account of the crowd, and a special \ncommissionnaire is always on duty at the door \nto take charge of them while their owners are \ninside. If you are fond of animals you will \nfind the little group which is always there an \ninteresting sight ; there is the anxious dog, who \nis not sure he will ever see his divinity again ; \nthe vain one, who is delighted to be admired by \npeople going in and out; and the philosopher, \nwho has been there often before and knows it \nis all in the day\'s work. \n\nThe establishment is like one of our depart- \nment stores, but larger, I think, than any of \nthem. \n\nWhat you do is this : When you have found \n\n\n\n120 ETJBOPEAN TRAVEL FOK WOMEN \n\nyour way to the corner of the great building in \nwhich is whatever you have come to buy, \nwhether it be stationery, trunks, biscuits, or \nmedicine, you choose what suits you, and are \nthen taken to a cashier\'s desk, where you give \nyour friend\'s number, name, and address, as she \nis supposed to be the buyer. You pay for your \npurchase, and if possible take it home with you ; \nif it is too big to carry you give your own name \nand address, after that of your friend, and it \nwill be sent home to you, a small charge being \nmade for delivery. The whole system is ab- \nsolutely on a cash basis, which accounts for the \nlarge dividends paid by these companies to their \nstockholders. If you are not able to have the \nuse of a number at the Army and Navy Stores, \nby applying to the secretary of the Civil Service \nCooperative Society, 28 Haymarket, and stating \nthat you are an American, a complimentary \nseason ticket and number for that one will be \ngiven you without charge. \n\nIt is very convenient to be able to buy so \nmany different sorts of things under one roof, \nbut in fairness to the retail shops, of which the \n"stores" are formidable rivals, I should say that \nI have not found prices at the latter noticeably \nlower for an equally high class of goods, nor \n\n\n\nENGLAND 121 \n\ncan you as a rule get anything particularly fine \nof its kind. \n\nThere are also stores throughout London \nwhich are conducted on private capital, like \nour own, where you may buy without any for- \nmality or restriction ; among these Whiteley\'s \nand Har rod\'s are very well known, and there \nyou will find almost any imaginable thing, from \nmarketing to diamond ornaments. \n\nEnglish women live so much in the country \nthat everything adapted for out-of-door exer- \ncise, such as dogskin gloves, waterproof capes, \nand all bicycle supplies, can be got better in \nLondon than in Paris. \n\nIf you stay for a fortnight in a quiet English \nhotel or lodgings, it will be fair to give the \nwaiter ten shillings and the chambermaid seven \nand sixpence ; the boy who has opened the \ndoor and run errands, three shillings, and half- \na-crown to the " boots," who corresponds to the \nporter on the Continent. No rule can be ab- \nsolute. A certain amount is expected, and if \nyou give more trouble than the usual traveller \nto any particular servant you must recognize it \naccordingly. For instance, if, during your stay, \nthe boy whose business it is to open the front \ndoor has been perpetually running up and down \n\n\n\n122 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nstairs with parcels, notes, cards, etc., he will \ndeserve more than if he has not been so active ; \nif you were ill in your room, and the chamber- \nmaid had to wait on you, she, on the other hand, \nought to have more than if you have been out \nall day. One difference between England and \nthe Continent is that no man-servant ever comes \ninto a lady\'s bedroom in an English hotel or \nlodgings. If you breakfast upstairs, the waiter \ncarries the tray to your door, and the chamber- \nmaid takes it from him there and brings it in. \n\nThese are about the tips which would be \nexpected if you should make a visit at a pri- \nvate house where only maid-servants are kept: \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nFrom Saturday till Monday \n\nParlour maid .... Half-a-crown \n\nHousemaid Two shillings \n\nBoy Two shillings \n\nYou only tip the upper housemaid, unless the \n\nunder housemaid has waited on or packed for \n\nyou \xe2\x80\x94 in that case you give her two shillings \n\nalso. \n\nFor a Week \n\nParlour maid .... Five shillings \n\nHousemaid , . . . . Five shillings \n\nBoy Two shillings \n\nCoachman Half-a-crown \n\n\n\nENGLAND 123 \n\nIf he has fetched you from the station, or \ndriven you without his mistress \xe2\x80\x94 if he has had \nno trouble on your account, you need not tip \nhim. \n\nIn houses where men-servants are kept : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nFrom Saturday till Monday \n\nButler Half-a-crown \n\nHousemaid Half-a-crown \n\nFor a Week \n\nButler Five shillings \n\nHousemaid Five shillings \n\nCoachman (if he has done anything for you) Five shillings \n\nThis scale is enough either for one or two \npersons from Saturday till Monday, but if two \npeople stay a week, the butler and upper house- \nmaid should each have ten shillings. \n\nThe fees for doctors and dentists vary with \nthe quarters of the town in which they practise. \nIf you wish to consult a distinguished special- \nist, you should write him a note saying that \nyou wish to call on him, which he will answer \nby one telling you his office hours, during \nwhich you go to his house, send in your card, \nand await your turn. Have an envelope ready \nin which are two sovereigns and two shillings, \nif it is your first visit, as the usual fee is two \n\n\n\n124 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN- \n\nguineas for the first consultation and one for \neach visit after that. When you have finished \nyour consultation, put the envelope quietly \ndown on the table and go away. If you have \nto go back again, the process is repeated with \none guinea ; but if the physician attends you at \nyour lodgings or hotel, he sends his bill when \nyou are better, as he would at home. You can \nperfectly well ask a dentist what his charges \nare before being treated. \n\nA word about things which it is well not to \ndo. Do not try to walk anywhere in the \nstreets of London at night, unless it should be \nin some absolutely quiet square. In the neigh- \nbourhood of the theatres, it is impossible for \nladies if they are alone, and unpleasant if they \nare with gentlemen. Leicester Square and the \nadjoining streets have a large foreign popula- \ntion, and it is not usual for young girls to go \nthere much, or, if they do, it should be in the \nmornings. The same applies to the Strand, \nwhich, in the late afternoon, has a decidedly \nmixed class of passengers. Between Burling- \nton Street and Piccadilly there is a short pas- \nsage known as the Burlington Arcade, which \nis filled with little shops where all sorts of lux- \nuries are sold. This is a convenient short cut \n\n\n\nENGLAND 126 \n\nbetween the two streets and is always crowded ; \nbut it is better for young girls, especially if they \nare striking looking, to do their shopping there \nin the morning, as in the late afternoon women \noften walk there for whom they would not care \nto be mistaken. \n\nIf I were asked by any one who had very \nlittle time to spend, how she could best get an \nimpression of England, I should advise her to \ngo first to London, and form an idea of its \nvastness by going about on omnibuses ; to \nvisit Westminster Abbey, which is an epitome \nof English history in stone ; to go to Windsor, \nin order to see one of the best of the great \nEnglish parks; and to run down, if only for a \nday, to Oxford or Cambridge. \n\nIf you have more time to spend in either of \nthem, during the terms of the Universities, it is \ninteresting to catch a glimpse of the under- \ngraduate life, which, of course, is all you can \ndo ; but during the long vacation you are freer \nto go over the colleges and gardens at your \nleisure, and you may also find very comfortable \naccomodations in what are known (at Oxford \nat least) as licensed lodging-houses, which are \nthose in which the students are allowed by the \nauthorities to live when they have not rooms \n\n\n\n126 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nin the colleges themselves. The arrangement \nseems to be that when the students are not \nthere in the summer the landlady is allowed \nto rent their rooms, which are often well fur- \nnished and very homelike. The board in them \nis about eight or ten shillings a day for each \nperson, which includes all meals. \n\nI have made a list of a few books about \nEngland, some of which you may like to read, \nbut it is not possible within the narrow limits \nof these pages even to indicate what you may \nsee if you have time and inclination. If you \nlove the old country, \xe2\x80\x94 which you will find oiit \nafter you have been there a few days, \xe2\x80\x94 in \nevery corner there will be something to attract \nyou, and you will feel that nowhere else do sea \nand sky "so inclose Infinite riches in a little \nroom." \n\nSOME BOOKS ABOUT GREAT BRITAIN \n\nA star (*) means that a book is of portable size, and useful \nfor local reference. \n\nT. means that it is published in the Tauchnitz edition. \n\n*A Trip to England, Goldwin Smith. Macmillan. \nShakespeare\'s England, W. Winter. Macmillan. \nGray Days and Gold, W. Winter. Macmillan. \n*Walks in London, A. J. C. Hare. Macmillan. \nLiterary Landmarks of London, L. Hutton. Harper. \nDomestic Architecture in England (4 vols.), T.H. Turner. \nParker. \n\n\n\nENGLAND 127 \n\n*A Handbook to the English Cathedrals, M. G. Van \nRensselaer. Scribner. \n\nBell\'s Cathedral Series (monographs by different authors). \nMacmillan. \n\n*Cathedral Churches of England and Wales, W. J. Loftie. \nStanford. \n\nLondon City Churches, A. E. Daniell. Archibald Con- \nstable. \n\nMemorials of Westminster Abbey, Dean Stanley. Mac- \nmillan. \n\n\xe2\x99\xa6Deanery Guide to Westminster Abbey. Pall Mall \nGazette. \n\n\xe2\x99\xa6Handbook to the National Gallery, E. T. Cook. Mac- \nmillan. \n\n\xe2\x99\xa6South Kensington Museum Art Handbooks (monographs \non the arts and art industries). Chapman Hall. \n\nLondon, W. Besant. Harper. \n\nHistorical Memorials of Canterbury, Dean Stanley. Ran- \ndolph. \n\nPortraits of Places (partly in England). Henry James. T. \n\nHistoric Towns Series. Longmans. \n\nGreat Public Schools Series. Arnold. \n\nThe Inns of Court and Chancery, W. J. Loftie. \nMacmillan. \n\nMemorable London Houses, W. Harrison. Scribner. \n\nThe Story of Ireland, E. Lawless. Putnam. \n\nThe Story of Scotland, J. Mackintosh. Putnam. \n\nLitei-ary Landmarks of Edinburgh, L. Hutton. Harper. \n\nRoyal Edinburgh, Mrs. Oliphant. Macmillan. \n\nA FEW NOVELS \n\nEleventh Century \n\nHarold Bulwer Lytton. T. \n\nHereward the Wake Charles Kingsley. T. \n\n\n\n128 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nTwelfth Century \n\nIvanhoe Walter Scott. T. \n\nCourt Life under the Plantagenets . . Hubert Hall. \n\nThirteenth Century \nBrakespeare G. A. Lawrence. \n\nFourteenth Century \n\nThe White Company A. Conan Doyle. T. \n\nFifteenth Century \n\nLast of the Barons Bulwer Lytton. T. \n\nChantry Priest of Barnet A. J. Church. \n\nThe Black Arrow R. L. Stevenson. T. \n\nSixteenth Century \n\nThe Abbot (Scotland) Walter Scott. T. \n\nThe Household of Sir Thomas More . Anne Manning. \n\nKenilworth (Warwickshire) .... Walter Scott. T. \n\nWestward Ho ! (Devonshire) . . Charles Kingsley. T. \n\nSeventeenth Century \n\nLorna Doone (Devonshire) . . . B. D. Blackmore. T. \n\nHolmby House (Northamptonshire) Whyte Melville, T. \n\nPeveril of the Peak (Derbyshire) . . Walter Scott. T. \n\nWoodstock (Oxfordshire) .... Walter Scott. T. \n\nThe Draytons and the Davenants Elizabeth Charles. T. \n\nEighteenth Century \n\nHeart of Mid-Lothian (Edinburgh) . Walter Scott. T. \n\nEsmond W. M. Thackeray. T. \n\nVicar of Wakefield Oliver Goldsmith. T. \n\nNineteenth Century \n\nThree Feathers (Cornwall) . . . William Black. T. \n\nA Princess of Thule (The Hebrides) William Black. T. \n\nThe Deemster (Isle of Man) .... Hall Caine. T. \n\nCranford (Knutsford) Mrs. Gaskell. T. \n\nIrish Idylls Jaue Barlow. \n\n\n\nFRANCE \n\n\xc2\xab \n\nFrench money is puzzling in a different way \nfrom the English. It is easier for us, in that it \nis decimal, but the people obstinately continue \nto speak of it as if it were not. For instance, \nfive centimes make one sou, and a hundred \ncentimes or twenty sous one franc, but the \naverage French person counts by nothing but \nthe sous. The silver piece of fifty centimes is, \nof course, half a franc, but in nine cases out of \nten he will call it "ten sous," or say twenty \nsous instead of a franc. \n\nThe French sou corresponds about to the \nAmerican cent, and two of them to the English \npenny. The two-sous piece is considerably larger \nthan the single one, and there are no other cop- \nper coins ; the smallest silver coin is for fifty \ncentimes, corresponding to our ten-cent piece. \nThen come the franc and two-franc pieces, and \nthere is also the five-franc piece, which is about \nthe size of our silver dollar and is commonly \n\n\n\n130 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nspoken of as a " piece de cent sous." The small- \nest gold piece is for ten francs, and tlie piece of \ntwenty francs is commonly known as a " louis " \nor sometimes as a "napoleon," although the \nhead of the Republic has adorned it for the \nlast thirty years. \n\nHere is a table of these values: \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nFrench. American. \n\nOne sou = One cent. \n\nFifty centimes ) ^ \n\n, T . \\ = Ten cents, \n\n(ten sous) J \n\nOne franc = Twenty cents. \n\nFive francs ) ^ , \xe2\x80\x9e \n\n, , , , . V = One dollar. \n(a hundred sous) J \n\nTen francs = Two dollars. \n\nTwenty francs 1 ^ , ,, \n\n, , . - > = Four dollars, \n(a louis) J \n\nThe French and English customs authorities \nhave under consideration an arrangement by \nwhich branches of the French custom-house are \nto be established at Charing Cross and Victoria \nstations, and luggage examined and passed by \na French official. This would be most conven- \nient, and you might inquire whether it has \nbeen done. \n\nYou may buy your ticket through by what- \never line you choose from London to Paris, and \nit may be third or second class by rail, and first \n\n\n\nFBANCE 131 \n\nclass on the Channel steamer, which last is \nadvisable, as the second-class quarters are not \ngood. Your luggage may also be registered \nthrough from London to Paris. \n\nIf you go by Dover and Calais, which is \nthe shorter crossing, there is always time for \nbreakfast, or rather luncheon, at the latter \nplace, where the railway buffet is famous for \ngood things to eat. ^ \n\nWhile you are still on the boat, as you are \nnearing the coast of France, a custom-house offi- \ncial comes round politely asking for your keys, \nand your hand luggage is examined then and \nthe larger pieces at Amiens. \n\nThe radical dissimilarity between English and \nFrench people makes itself felt the moment you \ntouch French soil, and if you have never been \nout of the sound of your own language, the first \nfew moments are rather bewildering. Although \nstolid compared to Italian porters, the French \nones seem exceedingly mercurial after the Eng- \nlish, and, unless you are careful, three or four \nof them will get hold of your hand luggage, and \neach will of course expect a tip. \n\nFrom the moment you set foot on shore re- \nmember that you have come to a country where \nthe little amenities of life make much more \n\n\n\n132 EUEOPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\ndifference than in the one you have just left, \nor than they do at home. \n\nA lady will be courteous to every one out of \nself-respect, but effusiveness of manner is not \nthought in England to be an attraction, and by \nsome classes of people, as I have hinted before, \nit may be misunderstood. In France and Italy, \non the other hand, and to some extent in Ger- \nman^(although there the Teutonic reserve \ncomes in again), the more gracious and polite \nyou are to every one the more you will have \ndone for you. You will naturally notice the \ngeneral use of " monsieur " and " madame " \namong people of every station in life. \n\nIn England this marks a distinct difference \nin rank ; ladies and gentlemen only say "sir" \nand "ma\'am" to persons of the blood royal. \nOnce across the Channel, however, you can \nscarcely be too generous with this trifling com- \npliment ; and its frequent omission by the Eng- \nlish, which is natural enough, gives rise to one \nof the grudges which the French have against \nthem. As a general rule, any woman is safe \nin addressing another woman, whether duchess \nor apple-seller, as " madame," and any man may \nbe called " monsieur " unless he is a waiter, or \na porter, when the proper word, while he is at \n\n\n\nFRANCE 133 \n\nhis work, is " gargon," or " boy." The young \ngirl who brings home your bonnet is "made- \nmoiselle," and so far as your personal comfort \nand convenience are concerned you had better \nbe rude to a friend than forget to say " Bon- \njour, monsieur," or "madame," to the portier or \nconcierge and his wife as you go in or out of \nyour hotel or apartment, as if you do thev will \nforget to send up the notes or parcels of a Jp^er \nwith so little manners. The expression " s\'il \nvous plait," which is the equivalent of our \n"please," is not so much used as in Eng- \nlish ; " voulez-vous bien," which is the equiva- \nlent of our " will you kindly," is a more com- \nmon form, or you may simply give your order \nin so many words, but always in a pleasant \ntone. \n\nBut it is time to be starting for Paris ; the \n" conducteur " has cried out " En voiture, mes- \nsieurs!" in a cheery way which his British \nbrother would consider very undignified. \n\nOne great difference between English and \nContinental railways is that in England men \nare not supposed to smoke except in certain car- \nriages, while in France it is allowed in all unless \nthe fellow-passengers object. There are also, \non the Continent, railway carriages set apart \n\n\n\n134 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nfor \'\'dames seules" or "signore sole" (ladies \nonly), into which gentlemen are not admitted \nat all, and you may always ask the porter who \nhas charge of your hand luggage to find you \nsuch a carriage. If your party can manage to \nbe alone in one it is very convenient; but \nFrench trains are much more crowded than \nEngy|h ones, and you run the chance of being \nshuPPp with two or three stout old ladies who \nwill take up a great deal of room, and are \nsure to object vehemently to any fresh air. \nThe express trains from Calais or Boulogne \nto Paris are nearly always especially full, and \nyour party will be fortunate if you all find \nseats together. \n\nThe rule for one terminal station is the same \nfor all. As the train slackens its speed, open \nyour window, put your head out, and beckon \nfor a porter. There is no distinct name for him \nin France as there is in other countries, and a \nsign is usually enough, but if you must call \nhim anything, " gargon " will do, as I have \nsaid. \n\nAs a general rule, never go anywhere with- \nout having written or telegraphed ahead for \nrooms to whichever hotel you mean to go. By \nso doing you insure an omnibus being sent to \n\n\n\nFEANCE 135 \n\nthe station to meet you, and the man who comes \nwith it will attend to your luggage. \n\nThe French custom-houses are more fussy \nthan those in England. There seems to be a \nsmall duty on a great many things, but after \nall the chief object of their search is spirits or \ntobacco, and a lady is not likely to have much \nannoyance. * \n\nIf no omnibus meets you, and you drive off \nfrom the station in a cab, with your luggage \non top of it, or beside the driver, which is what \npeople generally do, before long, you may very \nlikely see a man trotting alongside and try- \ning to keep up with your vehicle. If he is \nevidently following you, it means that he is \na poor wretch dependent upon odd jobs for \na living, and he is taking a long run on the \nchance that when you get to your destination \nthere may be no one to carry up your trunk, \nand you will therefore employ him. Unless \nthis is likely to be the case, it is cruel to let him \nhave his exertion for nothing, and you had bet- \nter put your head out of the window and shake \nit, and also move the uplifted forefinger of your \nright hand to and fro. That is the universal \nsign of negation on the Continent, and is under- \nstood by everybody, especially by the confrater- \n\n\n\n136 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nnity of beggars. If they pester you, and follow \nyou about, and decline to take " No " for an \nanswer, only waggle your finger at them long \nenough, and they will give it up and go away. \n\nThe drawback of sending word beforehand to \nan hotel is apt to be that the proprietor or man- \nager takes the chance of your being rich, and \ntherefore reserves for you rooms which cost \nmore than you wish to pay ; but you are not \nobliged to take them, and may ask to see those \nwhich are less expensive. The prices of hotels \nin Paris vary greatly according to their locality \nand the class of people who go to them. In the \nneighbourhood of the Place Vendome there is \nevery sort of cosmopolitan luxury and a corre- \nspondingly exalted scale of charges ; but even if \nyou can afford to go there it is a pity to do so \nif you want to see anything of French people, \nfor at some seasons of the year one actually \nhears as much English as French spoken in the \nstreets. \n\nThere are, of course, as in London, many \nsmall, quiet hotels where one may be perfectly \ncomfortable, but which are not so splendid. \n\nWhen you drive up to the door, you will \nbe received by the manager, who will show \nyou your rooms. The manager of any hotel fre- \n\n\n\nFRANCE 137 \n\nquented by travellers always speaks English, and \nso does the " portier," a magnificent being who \nmust not be confused with the porter. After \nyour first arrival, you may not see the manager \nagain until you go, but the " portier," who has a \nlittle den by the front door, is your best friend; \nhe changes your money, sells you postage- \nstamps, and has at his fingers\' ends the railway \ntime-tables. He is usually a most obliging \nperson, and well entitled to his tip when you \nleave. I have said that he is an authority \nabout time-tables, but this does not always \napply to small cross-country lines. He will tell \nyou in a moment when the express trains for any \npart of Europe leave or arrive ; but if you want \nto take slow trains, in order to be able to stop \nover at small places, and are clever at puzzles, \nyou will sometimes be able to work out a route \nafter he has assured you that the thing cannot \npossibly be done, whereat you will feel a glow \nof triumph unless you are, like Marjorie \nFleming\'s mother-turkey, "more than usual \ncalm." \n\nIn most of the hotels on the Continent it is \npossible, if you stay more than a few days, \nto make an arrangement which corresponds \nreally to boarding \xe2\x80\x94 that is, you go " en \n\n\n\n138 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\npension," and if you are to be two or three \nweeks in a place it has great advantages, for \nyou know exactly what you are spending. \nSuppose that you have been given the address \nof one of the small hotels of which I speak ; \nwhen you get there look at the rooms, and if \nthey suit you say to the proprietor or manager \nthat you wish to stay for about such a length \nof time, and then settle with him the amount \nper day which you shall pay. This includes \nyour coffee, rolls, and butter in your room \nin the morning, your second breakfast or " de- \njeuner," which may be taken in the general \ndining room or in your "salon" if you have \none, and the evening dinner. If you are served \nin your own rooms, it is extra, and the wine \nor mineral water at meals, and an egg or \nomelet with your coffee, or baths, or a lamp, \nare extra also, and in winter firewood, an im- \nportant item. You are not bound to stay if \nyou are not comfortable, and if you have many \nfriends with whom you expect to dine, living \n"en pension" is not a saving, as you must \npay for your meals whether you are there or \nnot, but for women travelling quietly it is an \nexcellent plan. \n\nHotels which are willing to take lodgers on \n\n\n\nFRAKCE 139 \n\nthese terms must not be confused v/ith the \n\'\'pensions," which are simply our boarding- \nhouses. Of these there are any number in \nParis, and they vary at least as much as their \nfellows at home. You cannot be too careful \nabout going to one of them unless you know all \nabout it from a friend whom you can trust, but \nmany are entirely unobjectionable, and it is in \nthem that the majority of the women live who \ncome abroad for serious study of any kind, \nwhether in Paris, or in other European cities. \nAs to the relative expenses of different parts \nof Paris, I have already spoken of the Place \nVendome and the Rue de la Paix ; then there \nis the " American Quarter," near the Arc de \nI\'Etoile, in which prices are also high, although \nthere are hotels and pensions in quiet side \nstreets where one may be comfortable without \npaying exorbitantly. This neighbourhood has \nthe advantage of being on higher ground than \nmost of the older districts, and as it is of recent \ngrowth, the sanitary arrangements are better, \nfor which reasons I advise you to try it if you \nhave a delicate person in your party, or a young \ngirl. Many people like the "rive gauche," or \nleft bank of the Seine, and in some of the hotels \nthere one may be very comfortable at a moder- \n\n\n\n140 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nate price, but it is rather out of the way, and \nthe old paved streets are very iiois}^ By the \nway, when you are looking for rooms in a Euro- \npean hotel, notice whether it is on the side of a \nhill, and if so, ask whether it is on an omnibus \nroute ; those heavy vehicles have strong brakes, \nwhich are used freely on any declivity, and the \nconsequent strident screech is exceedingly dis- \nagreeable. \n\nWith regard to prices, these are variable, as \nin London ; on general principles you will pay \nfrom eight to fifteen francs a day at a quiet \nhotel, the difference depending somewhat on \nthe position of your room, and the length of \nyour stay; while board and lodging at a pension \nare anywhere from a liundred and fifty to four \nhundred francs a month. If you have no \nfriends in Paris, it would not be a bad plan to \nstop over night at one of the large hotels which \nare near each railway station, as the faithful \nBaedeker will tell you, and go next morning to \nthe American Girls\' Club at 4 Rue Chevreuse, \nin the famous Latin Quarter, where you will \nsurely be told what you had better do. This \nclub was started for the use of American stu- \ndents, and there is a restaurant where any \nwoman can go, the prices being kept as low as \n\n\n\nFRANCE 141 \n\npossible. Tea is served in the afternoons, and \nevery American woman is welcomed, while in \nsummer, when there are but few students, rooms \nare rented very cheap. \n\nNothing which may be said about Parisian \nprices holds good in an exhibition year, when \nyou may consider yourself exceptionally lucky \nif you only have to pay twice as much as in \nordinary times. Paris, during one of these \nshows, bears the same relation to her usual self \nthat a private household does when it is turned \nupside down by some entertainment, like a big \nwedding, which strains its resources to the ut- \nmost. There are always a great many interest- \ning things to see, and supposing you have the \nchance to go you will be foolish not to take it ; \nbut if you have never been in Paris before do \nnot make up your mind about her offhand. \nThe cabbies are all cross, and the horses are all \ntired ; the theatres are so crowded that you can \nhardly get a seat ; and if you go to a restaurant \nyou must Avait an interminable time for a bad \ndinner. This is the reverse of a shining shield. \nEvery exhibition has a special and ephemeral \nliterature of its own, quite out of the scope of \nordinary guide-books, and one of the best vol- \numes recently issued seems to be the " Anglo- \n\n\n\n142 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nAmerican Guide," published by Heinemann in \nLondon, Hachette in Paris, and Stokes in New \nYork. \n\nOne of the first things to learn on the Con- \ntinent is that its ideas differ widely from those \nof Great Britain and America as to what are \nknown as " the rights of the individual," and \nthis is especially the case in France. In Eng- \nland, or Avith us, if there is an accident in the \nstreet, you are supposed to be in the right until \nit is proved that 3\'ou are in the wrong ; but the \nexact contrary holds in France and other Con- \ntinental countries. If you are nearly run over \nin Paris, the man who has done it, instead of \napologizing, will begin to scold you, and if you \napply to a policeman he will tell you that you \nare very lucky not to be worse off and that it \nwas all your own fault. This is somewhat \nbewildering at first, but you must get used to it, \nand remember that it is your place to dodge the \ncabs and carriages in the streets, not theirs to \nlook out for you. \n\nIf you leave anything in a cab, your only \nredress is to go after it to the Prefecture of \nPolice, below the cathedral of Notre Dame ; \nbut unless the object is very valuable it is \nscarcely worth while to take so much trouble. \n\n\n\nPEANCE 143 \n\nYour chance of recovering it is slight, even if \nyoa have the number of the cab, as the man \nmay assert that he never saw what you have \ncome to claim, and the authorities seem always \nto take his part. \n\nCabs in Paris are either victorias or ram- \nshackle coupes, and the cabbies not nearly \nso civil as those in London. There are plenty \nof stands, but, if you are wise, you will not \ntake a cab from one of them, because after \nyou have started, you may find the horse \nlame or tired out. The better way is to \nwalk along quietly after you leave your hotel, \nwatching, without seeming to do so, the various \ncabs creeping along in search of a fare; then, \nwhen you see one with a decent horse and man, \nhold up your finger, and he will immediately \ncome. If you give the cabby an address only \nas you get in, when you get to your destina- \ntion you must pay him and let him go. That \nis a "course," and for it he is entitled to a \nfranc and a half, and also a "pourboire" \xe2\x80\x94 \nthis last as obligatory as the fare. For a \nshort " Course " French people usually give \nthree sous, but foreigners, especially Ameri- \ncans, are always expected to give more. I \nusually give five sous "pourboire" for an \n\n\n\n144 EUEOPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nordinarily long " course." The aggregate \namount in pennies between a small " pourboire " \nand a large one is not very great, and it is \nworth something to have one\'s cabby pleasant. \nIf you wish to keep the cab for several errands, \nyou must say " a I\'heure " when you engage \nhim, and if it is near the time when he ought \nto change his horse, he has the right to refuse \nto take you. The fare by the hour is two \nfrancs, and the men do not drive so fast as by \nthe "course," although they will usually do \nso if you promise them a good "pourboire." \nDuring an exhibition they expect two francs \nfor a course, and three by the hour. \n\nEach man is bound to show his tariff if \nrequested to do so, and on it is the number of \nhis cab. If you want to go into one of the \nlarge shops, you should ask your cabby for his \nnumber, which he will give you on a small \npiece of paper, and when you come out, if you \ngive that paper to one of the "commission- \nnaires," who are always at the doors of the \nshops, he will find your cab for you as boys \ndo after the theatre at home. For this you \ngive him two sous. \n\nCabbies have been so often swindled by fares \ngoing in at one door and out at another of \n\n\n\nFRANCE 146 \n\nthe great shops which have many exits, that \nthey have naturally become suspicious, and it \nis customary to leave a parasol, book, or some \nother little thing on the seat as you get out. \nYou are secured against theft by the cabby\'s \nnumber which you hold, and he is sure that you \nwill come back to him. \n\nI once saw an amusing sight outside the \nMagasins du Louvre. An elderly English \nwoman of the most eminent respectability was \nholding tight to one end of her parasol, while \nher cabby, fiercely gesticulating, held equally \ntight to the other. Both were talking at the \ntops of their voices, and neither could under- \nstand a word the other said. The lady wanted \nto do some shopping and expected to find her \ncab when she came out, but was not familiar \nwith the custom of leaving some article in it as \na guarantee of her return, so the cabby was \ninsisting upon her parasol as a deposit, while \nshe was resisting what she thought was highway \nrobbery. \n\nIn Paris, unlike London, four-seated vehicles \ncost more than one holding only two passengers. \n\nThe two largest cab companies are the \n"Urbaine" and the " Compagnie Generale,\'\' \nand the cabs of the Urbaine may always be \n\n\n\n146 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOE WOMEN \n\neasily distinguished, because the body of the \nvehicle is painted in yellow and black to \nimitate cane work; this company hires out \nmany carriages by the week or month, which \nare not numbered, but all have the peculiar \nblack and yellow painting. The cabs of the \nCompagnie Gdn^rale are dark green and black, \nwith a little shield on the door marked "C. G." \n\nRemember, when you wish to take a cab in \nParis after dark, or indeed at any time, that \nyou can always tell to what quarter of the city \nthe stable belongs by the colour of the glass \nin the lamps, and try as much as possible to \ntake a man who lives in your quarter, because \nhis horse will go better toward home. \n\nOn any map or plan of Paris you may see \nwhere these different quarters are ; here are \nthe principal ones with their colours : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nBlue: The Bastille, La Villette. \n\nRed: Etoile (or Arc de Triomphe), Avenue de la \n\nGrande Arm^e, and Batignolles. \nGreen: Vaugirard, and the left side of the Seine, the \n\nLatin Quarter, etc. \nYellow: Montmartre and La Chapelle. \n\nAs a general rule the cabs with the red or \ngreen lanterns will be those you want. \n\nIf you can afford it, by far the pleasantest \n\n\n\nFRANCE 147 \n\nway to arrange for a cab in the evening is to \ngo to the office of the Urbaine Company near- \nest your hotel. There are many of these \noffices, and the portier will be able to direct \nyou. Ask to see the manager, and tell him \nthat you wish to have a cab whenever you \nwant it, and to be able to feel sure that the \nhorse is good and the man sober. You can \nlet him know in the morning, and the man will \nappear at your door at the time you have \nnamed, and will be waiting for you at the \ntheatre when you come out. This costs ten or \ntwelve francs an evening, besides a tip of two \nfrancs \xe2\x80\x94 as much as a cab would at home ; but \nyou are sure of a decent man, and in case a \nyoung girl has to go out to dinner by herself it \nis really the only satisfactory arrangement. \n\nOmnibuses in Paris have different rules from \nthose in England. In order to secure a seat \nyou go to a little station, or booth; there is \none just opposite the Magasins du Louvre from \nwhich you can easily learn what they are all \nlike. If you know that the omnibus which you \nwant to take belongs to the line of which that \nis the office, you go in and ask for a ticket and \nare given a number. Then you wait until, in \na few moments, an omnibus comes along and \n\n\n\n148 EUEOPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\ndeposits some people. The keeper of the office \ncalls some numbers in the order in which he \nhas given them out, and you listen for yours. \nIf there are three vacant places only in the \nomnibus, the first three numbers called take \nthem, and you may have to wait still longer. \nThis at a very busy time of the day may happen \ntwo or three times, but at last you hear your \nnumber, and climb either in or outside, wher- \never you have taken your place. The fare \ninside is six sous to any part of the city, \nand outside, called the "imperiale," which is \nmuch pleasanter, it is three. The omnibus rolls \naway with the sign " complet " on the back if \nit is full ; if a person gets out, the little sign is \ntaken down and it will stop if it is hailed, but \nthe chance of a vacant place is slight and you \nmay wait so long on the pavement that people \nusually go to the stations. At night a little \nred lamp takes the place of the board, and has \nthe same meaning. (There is a venerable story \nof a man who lamented that he could never get \nto " Complet," although so many omnibuses \nwent there, because none of them would stop \nfor him.) A complicated system of "corre- \nspondances," or transfers, covers the whole city ; \nbut if you mean to use the omnibuses except \n\n\n\nFRANCE 149 \n\nas a delightful way of seeing Paris, you must \nreally study their routes. \n\nOf late years there have been so many Amer- \nican girls studying and living there that a \nyoung lady walking alone does not attract so \nmuch attention as formerly, but she must be \neven more careful than in London to dress \nquietly and behave with reserve and discretion. \nDo not look at men ; do not walk on the boule- \nvards in the late afternoon ; and especially do \nnot loiter at that time under the arcade of the \nRue di Rivoli, opposite the Louvre. There are \nquantities of little shops there, the windows of \nwhich are full of photographs of actresses and \nvarious conspicuous people, many of them in toi- \nlettes which recall that of the " Young Lady of \nCrete," and to the foreign mind it is absolutely \nincomprehensible that nice girls should stand \ngazing and admiring as too many of them do. \n\nWomen who have no man with them can go to \nthe theatres in the evening without any incon- \nvenience. As these are scattered all over Paris, \nyou may, to save trouble, procure seats through \none of the many "Agences des Theatres," \neasily distinguishable by the posters outside \nthem, where you pay a premium which varies \nwith the attractiveness of the spectacle. \n\n\n\n150 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nUsually it is two francs a place above the \ntheatre price, but for gala affairs it is often \nmuch higher. \n\nIf you have time it is always better to get \nyour tickets at the " bureau de location " of \nthe theatre itself, and be sure to ask whether \nthe play you want to see will be given on the \nevening for which you are buying them, as \nthe bills of foreign theatres change often, and \nwithout warning. \n\nThe most comfortable seats are the " stalles \nd\'orchestre " or the " fauteuils de balcon," and \nat the principal theatres the price of these, at \nthe box office, is from seven to nine francs, or \nabout the same as at home. \n\nTuesdays and Thursdays are subscription \nnights at the Theatre Frangais, and many peo- \nple take their boxes or seats for the season, \nwhich makes it hard to get places for those \nevenings if there is a new play. Monday is \nthe fashionable subscription night at the Opera. \n\nThe Theatre Frangais will soon be rebuilt, \nand you should certainly go to it at least once, \neven if you do not understand French, as it \nis one of the characteristic institutions of \nParis. \n\nThe question as to the theatres to which ladies \n\n\n\nFBANCB 151 \n\ncan or cannot go is a delicate one. The rule \nbetween married and unmarried women is very \nsharply drawn in France. A married woman \nmay go anywhere her husband chooses to take \nher, and read any book which he does not for- \nbid; but unmarried women do not as a rule \nread French novels nor go to most of the thea- \ntres, unless the piece is unobjectionable. \n\nA Frenchman who sees a young unmarried \nwoman at the Palais Royal Theatre or with a \ncertain kind of French novel in her hand, does \nnot know what to think, and it is not his fault \nif he believes that she understands a great deal \nmore than she does. \n\nThe Theatre Frangais, as I have said, is a \nclassic institution, and the Odeon almost as \nmuch so. At the Opera the lyric perform- \nances are not nearly so good as we have now \nin America, but the ballets are far more beau- \ntiful. Coquelin and Sarah Bernhardt play at \ntheir theatres much the same pieces that they \nbring to America, and it often happens that \nsome historical play is entirely inoffensive ; but \none cannot be sure, and if you are in doubt you \nhad better stay away. \n\nThe Palais Royal is the home of broad farce \nof the Gallic variety, and although the pieces \n\n\n\n152 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nare occasionally amusing, they cannot be recom- \nmended to youth. \n\nThe " star " system by which one theatre has \ntwenty different companies as tenants during a \nseason is unknown in Paris ; each has its own \ndirector and its permanent troupe. One piece \nmay be perfectly harmless, the next terrible \naccording to our standards ; and the only way \nto decide whether to go or not is to ask the \nadvice of some friend who knows more than \nyou do. \n\nAt the Opera and the Theatre Fran9ais, \nwomen are only allowed in the orchestra stalls \nwithout hats, and not in the first three rows. \nIn other theatres there are no restrictions. \n\nFrench theatre tickets are not like ours, \nbeing slips of paper with the number of one\'s \nseat written on them twice. When you go \ninto the vestibule of the theatre you will see \nthree men sitting like judges, in a sort of box \nor pen ; you give one of them your slips of \npaper, at which he glances, tears them in two, \nand hands you the other halves. In the cor- \nridor outside your seats you find some old \nwomen with beribboned caps, who urge you to \nleave your cloaks with them, and you had \nbetter do it; for French theatres are usually \n\n\n\nFRANCE 153 \n\ncrowded and always hot. These women are \ncalled "ouvreuses," and they are as much a \npart of the machinery of the French theatre as \nthe prompter. You may put two or three light \nwraps together, for which the " ouvreuse " will \ngive you a number ; she then tells you where \nto find your seat, and you go in. \n\nFrench people are fond of going out into the \n" foyer " between the acts to walk up and down, \ntalk, or drink raspberry vinegar and such-like \nmild refreshments ; the consequence is that they \ntramp over one\'s feet several times each evening. \nIn the Theatre Frangais there was no aisle \ndown the middle of the orchestra stalls, but a \nbar separating the even from the uneven num- \nbers, and if you could get seats against that bar, \ndirectly in the middle of the house, you had to \nclimb over everybody to get in if you were \nlate, but after that nobody passed you. Never \nwear a good skirt to a Paris theatre, except in \na box, as the floors are always dirty. \n\nWhen the play is over, fifty centimes will be \nenough for your ouvreuse, or a franc if you are a \nlarge party. You will have to find a vehicle for \nyourself, there being no " commissionnaire " as \nat the English theatres, and your going home \nwill probably not be so pleasant as in London. \n\n\n\n164 EUROPEAK TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nThere are plenty of cabs, but the horses are \noften lame and tired, and the cabbies beat them \nunmercifully. You may have the good luck to \nfind a horse which is not exhausted, and glad to \nbe going toward home, or else you may, especially \nin an Exhibition year, be made to feel that you \nwould much rather walk any distance than sit \nanother minute in the cab. \n\nThe postal arrangements in Paris are excel- \nlent, and their system of \'\'card telegrams" a \ngreat convenience. At any post-office station \nyou may buy these little cards, which cost thirty \ncentimes for an ordinary one, like a postal card, \nand fifty centimes for a small sheet of blue \npaper with a line gummed around the edges \nand a row of perforations like those which \nseparate postage-stamps. You write as much \nas you choose on the inside of this little sheet \nof paper, which will hold thirty or forty words, \nthen double it over, wet the gummed edges and \nstick them together, write the address, and drop \nit into a special slit reserved for these "cartes \ntelegrammes" at the office, when it will be \nwhisked away through a pneumatic tube at \nonce, and delivered as quickly as a regular tele- \ngram. The person receiving it merely has to \ntear off the gummed edge which closes the \n\n\n\nFEANCB 165 \n\nsheet; and the open cards go in the same quick \nway. If you wish to change an appointment \nwith a dressmaker or send word that you want \na cab, two hours is usually quite enough time \nto allow for one of these card telegrams to \nreach any part of Paris. The colloquial name \nfor the closed ones is "petit bleu," from the \nshade of their paper. \n\nOrdinary telegrams within the limits of \nFrance cost one franc for the first twenty \nwords, the address being included, and one \nsou for each word after that. The tariff for \nother countries varies. \n\nAlthough Paris is essentially a city of res- \ntaurants and cafes, there are none to which \nit is pleasant for ladies to go by themselves, \nand you had better avoid them. There are \nseveral tea rooms in the English and American \nquarter where you can get very good afternoon \ntea and cakes, and if you want to lunch away \nfrom your own hotel, you may go to one of the \nmany "Bouillons Duval." There the food is \ngood and cheap, and you are waited on by \nyoung women ; while, although the company is \nnot exciting, it is respectable. \n\nThere are half a dozen huge shops in Paris to \nwhich most strangers drift naturally, and about \n\n\n\n156 EFROPBAlsr TRAVEL FOR "WOMEN \n\nthe two best-known of them a hoary anecdote is \ntold, to the effect that a young woman, who was \nasked when she went home what she had most \nadmired in the Louvre, replied that on the \nwhole she preferred the gloves there to those at \nthe Bon Marche. \n\nThe largest shops are like our department \nstores, or the cooperative stores in London, \nand are known by fancy titles instead of the \nnames of their proprietors. Among the best \nof them are the "Magasins du Louvre," and \nthe " Samaritaine," in the Rue de Rivoli; the \n" Bon Marche," and the " Petit St. Thomas," \nin the Rue du Bac, and the "Printemps," on \nthe Boulevard Haussmann. \n\nWhen you go to shops let me warn you \nagainst a want of consideration which often \ncomes from lack of thought. In all the large \nones, a number of the employees, both men and \nwomen, speak English, but in many cases it is \nscarcely fluent. I have seen a woman go into the \nBon Marche and say to one of the shop-girls, " Do \nyou speak English? " to which the answer was \n"Yees, madame, a leedle." Then down came \nthe long-pent-up torrent of the shopper\'s elo- \nquence, \xe2\x80\x94 she talked at a pace that would have \nstaggered a stenographer, and the poor girl was \n\n\n\nFRANCE 167 \n\ndrowned in the flood. Up came the watch- \nful section superintendent, who saw that the \nattendant did not really understand the lady, \nand although I could not hear what he said to the \ngirl, I am afraid she may have lost her place in \nconsequence. Therefore, when speaking Eng- \nlish to foreigners, "let your words be few and \nwell chosen," and speak as you would to a little \nchild, or even more slowly and distinctly. \n\nWednesday is " bargain day " at the Magasins \ndu Louvre, and Friday at the Bon Marche, and \nif you do not mind a tremendous crowd, espe- \ncially in the afternoon, you can often get things \ncheaper than on other days ; but otherwise I \nadvise your choosing another time, and always \ngo as early in the morning as you can. \n\nIn your wanderings about, if you see a little \nthing which you like, can afford, and have \nroom for, buy it at once, and do not think that \nyou can get the same thing just as well later \nsomewhere else. The chances are that you \nwill never see anything like it again, and will \nbe sorry during the rest of your journey that \nyou did not take it at first. If you go into \na large shop in Paris and take a fancy to a \ncertain cape, or necktie, or petticoat, do not \nbe deterred from getting it because there are \n\n\n\n158 EUKOPEAN TEAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nmany others exactly like it ; seen together, \nthey may look rather common because of their \nnumber, but when your purchase is trans- \nported home it will probably be the admiration \nof your friends and you will only wish you had \nmore. \n\nIf you buy new clothes before leaving Paris \nit is better to ask your dressmaker to recom- \nmend you a professional packer. He (for it is \nalways a man) will save you a great deal of \ntrouble, but he will also awe you by the amount \nof room which, according to him, every self- \nrespecting frock requires. He stuffs the sleeves \nand bows with tissue paper ; he lays little rolls \ndown every fold where a crease could possibly \ncome; he puts countless tacks and pins to prevent \nthe contents of the tray from shifting, and alto- \ngether spreads your purchases over what seems \nto you a great deal of space. For the ocean \njourney, although not for travelling, cheap \ntrunks serve their purpose, and a very fair-sized \none can be bought in Paris for thirty francs. If \nyour packer is good, and your clothes not mal- \ntreated at the custom-house, they should be \nas fresh when you unpack them in your own \nroom as they were when they came from the \ndressmaker\'s. It is false economy to crowd \n\n\n\nFRANCE 159 \n\nthem yourself into boxes too small for them, \nfor, even if you go directly home, it must be at \nleast a fortnight between the time you pack \nthem and take them out, and most of that has \nbeen spent on board ship, where the sea air \nseems to penetrate even into the most tightly \nclosed boxes. \n\nIf you reach Paris in winter, you will be \nwise to get yourself, as soon as possible, at \nany of the large shops, a pair of thick slip- \npers with felt soles, as you have left carpets \nwhich cover the floor behind you in England, \nand will only find small rugs on the stone or \ntile or wooden floors. You should also buy a \nwarm dressing-gown, especially if you are going \nto Italy, as the chilliness of part of the southern \nwinter is sometimes penetrating. \n\nWhile you were in England the question of \nyour washing was simple, as you made the list \nout in English, but now it will be a different \nmatter. At any of the book shops which are \nmeant especially for English and American \ntourists, such as Brentano\'s, 37 Avenue de \nr Opera; Neal\'s, 284 Rue de Rivoli; Galignani\'s, \n224 in the same street, or Gateau\'s, 8 Rue \nCastiglione, you will be able to get a polyglot \nwashing list in English, French, German, and \n\n\n\n160 EUEOPEAN TRAVEL EOR WOMEN \n\nItalian. Then all you have to do is to write \nthe number for yourself opposite the English \nname, and for the laundress opposite the foreign \none. You keep the English list and pin the \nother on your clothes-bag. Try to have your \nthings back in good season before you must \nleave an hotel, as laundresses sometimes take \nthe chance of your not having time to count \nthem, and in that way you may leave a trail of \nhandkerchiefs, collars, and stockings behind you. \nIf you mean to travel about after you leave \nParis, and wish to see as much as you can, you \nmust certainly count upon lunching often in \nthe railway carriage, as it saves a great deal of \ntime, and for this you will need a luncheon \nbasket, because it is of the utmost importance \nthat you should eat as regularly and as much \nas possible, unless you wish to tire yourself \nout. In the expensive shops on the boule- \nvards, and in the different establishments which \nsell conveniences for travellers, these baskets \nare elaborately fitted up, very heavy and very \ndear, but for a fraction of the price you can get \none which will be more useful and comfortable. \nGo to the Bon Marche, and select a basket \nof ample but not unwieldy size, made of some \nsort of soft straw or reeds, which, although \n\n\n\nFRANCE 161 \n\nstout, will not have sharp ends to tear your \nhands and clothes, and with a strap around \nit. Then go to the housekeeping department, \nand choose three or four (as many as you \nwant) small enamelled plates, the same num- \nber of knives and forks, an enamelled pot \nwith a tight-fitting cover, for butter, and a \ndrinking-glass in a straw case for each member \nof the party ; there should also be a small cork- \nscrew. Be careful, by the way, to choose your \nbasket long enough to carry a bottle of wine or \nmineral water comfortably. These things thus \nbought cost only a few francs, and your basket \nis not blocked up with a number of compart- \nments holding things which you do not want. \nBuy also a dozen small napkins, and get at any \napothecary\'s a new glass pot with a screw top, \nsuch as are made for cold cream, to hold salt. \nA cake of chocolate, or whatever form of it \nyou like best, should live in the luncheon bas- \nket, or at least be somewhere easily accessible \non journeys, as a biscuit and a bit of chocolate \nmay often prevent your feeling faint or having \na headache. Chocolate to drink at the first \nmeal of the day, instead of tea or coffee, is \nattainable in almost every corner of Europe ; \nand if you miss a hearty breakfast you will \n\n\n\n162 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nfind this much more sustaining than either of \nthe other beverages. If you are dependent on \nmilk, by the way, there are now in all the large \ntowns private dairies from which it is sent out \nin sealed bottles, as with us, and if you tell \nyour waiter that you want so much each day, \nit will be delivered regularly and put on your \nbill. It costs a little more than ordinary milk, \nas usual, but it is supposed to be safer. If you \nare rather run down from rapid travelling, or \novertired from sight-seeing, a few days\' rest, \nand as much milk diluted with an equal quan- \ntity of Vichy water as you can take, will \nprobably bring you up as quickly as though \nyou consulted a physician. \n\nIn case, however, one of your party should \nseem likely to be ill, it is well to know that \nEnglish nurses may be obtained at the follow- \ning addresses: The Holland Nursing Insti- \ntution, 25 Rue d\' Amsterdam; St. George\'s \nNursing Association, 92 Rue de la Boche, and \nthe Deaconesses\' Home, 95 Rue de Reuilly. \nDuring the Exhibition of 1900, nurses from the \nPresbyterian Hospital, and from St. Luke\'s, in \nNew York, will have an office at 102 Rue Vau- \ngirard, and there will be many American nurses \nin Paris. \n\n\n\nFRANCE 163 \n\nIn almost every French town there are " char- \ncuterie " shops, where you can buy cooked meats \nof all kinds, and if, when you are out, you see \na good cold roast chicken in a window, and are \ngoing on an expedition where you mean to use \nyour luncheon basket, buy the chicken and \nbring it back in a discreet parcel. You will \nfind it costs much less than if you order it \nfrom the hotel, and if you wish to take a bottle \nof wine, you can buy it cheaper in a grocer\'s \nshop. If you order rolls and butter to take \nwith you, the hotel keeper will be quite \ncontented. \n\nWhether you like it or not, it is wiser to \ndrink mineral water while you are abroad, \nexcept in a few cities. There are said to be \nartesian wells in Paris which are quite safe, \nbut in general the water there has a bad name, \nand you had better drink St. Galmier. Min- \neral waters have their districts, like wines, and \nyou will soon find out what those are by the \nprices on the hotel wine lists. When you find \nthat the water that you have been drinking \ncosts a little more than it did at the last place, \nand that the one next it on the list is rather \ncheaper, it means that you have crossed the \nboundary line into the second one\'s territory ; \n\n\n\n164 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nand you had better change, as one is as good as \nanother, and all chiefly useful to protect you, \nor at least give you the illusion of protection, \nagainst microbes. \n\nWhen there are children with you or people \nwho drink a great deal, if you are going to \nmake any stay in a place you should order a \ngallon of distilled water from a chemist\'s, as \nthat is quite as safe as if from a mineral spring, \nand much less expensive. \n\nYou should never travel in France without \na provision of copper sous. Many of the rail- \nway trains on the Continent now have toilet \nrooms attached to the carriages, but as a rule \nonly on the expresses, and those at the stations \nare always taken care of by old women, the \nregulation tip from each person being two \nsous. \n\nIf you get tired walking in Paris and sit \ndown on an iron chair, in a few moments a \npolite old lady or an old man in a blouse will \ncome and stand smiling before you, which \nmeans that he or she expects a couple of \npennies for the use of the chair. The fixed \nbenches in the parks are free, but as the mov- \nable chairs which are everywhere in Paris and \nwhich add greatly to one\'s comfort belong to \n\n\n\nFRANCE 165 \n\nprivate individuals, or to companies, there is a \ncharge for them. \n\nIn France there seems to be no dividing line \nbetween the work of men and that of women. \nAll the rough chamber work in hotels, for \ninstance, is done by men ; they sweep the floors, \nempty dirty water, etc., while the chambermaid \nmakes the bed and arranges the room. This \ncustom at first seems strange to American and \nEnglish people, but it is one of the customs of \nthe country. In Italy it is not as general as in \nFrance, but everywhere out of England men do \na great deal of the work which we only associate \nwith women. In an ordinary year, when Paris \nis not hysterical over an exhibition, if you have \nstayed a fortnight in a quiet hotel, your tips \nwould be about these : to the portier, ten francs, \nand the same to your waiter and your chamber- \nmaid (or seven to her and three to her male \nassistant); five francs to the "garden d\'etage," \nan upstairs waiter, who has brought your break- \nfast tray and answered your sitting-room bell; \nand three to the gargon who corresponds to \n"boots," and who takes your trunks up and \ndown. \n\nThe things worth seeing in Paris are so \nmany, and of such different kinds, that I can- \n\n\n\n166 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nnot even begin to tell you about them, but I \nmay indicate one or two which are not dwelt \nupon in the guide-books. If you are there in \nspring or summer, it will amuse you to go up \nand down the Seine in the little river-boats \nknown as " mouches " or \'^ hirondelles," \xe2\x80\x94 flies \nand swallows. You may go to Suresnes or St. \nCloud, lunch at one of the inns there, and come \nback whenever you please. These boats corre- \nspond to those which go to Greenwich, but I \nthink you will be struck with the different way \nin which English and French people take their \npleasure. \n\nIn England, a man goes about with his sweet- \nheart, or his wife, if she has only one child to \nlook after, but when more come she seems to \nstay at home with them, and her fiusband joins \nother men. In France, on the other hand, the \nmore the merrier is the feeling about family \nparties ; in any of the suburbs of Paris on a \nholiday, or in any corner of the Bois de Bou- \nlogne, you will find numbers of picnics going \non, with parents, children, and grandparents \nperfectly happy in being together. It makes \nan American rather ashamed to see how neat \nsuch parties are after they have finished feast- \ning ; every scrap of paper, egg-shell, or bit of \n\n\n\nFRANCE 167 \n\nbread is collected, and no rubbish of any sort \nleft to disfigure the grass. \n\nThere is not much left now of old Paris, but \nin the heart of the city, on the little island where \nthe Cathedral of Notre Dame stands, there are \nstill some curious streets, with names even \nolder, probably, than the present buildings. \nIn the cathedral itself, notice the noble sweep \nof the simple columns behind the choir \xe2\x80\x94 you \nwill not see anything else just like it in all \ncathedral architecture. If you are in Paris at \nthe end of Lent, try to hear the \'\' Chanteurs de \nSaint Gervais," which is an old church on the \nleft side of the Seine. The " Chanteurs " are \nmusical enthusiasts, who have revived the old \nplain-song; they have no organ accompani- \nment, only permitting the voice and sometimes \nthe violin. They give old church music, some \nof it mediaeval, and some by Palestrina, Pergo- \nlese, and others, but nothing modern. It is \nsimple enough to hear it, \xe2\x80\x94 all you need do is \nto find your way to the Church of Saint Ger- \nvais et Saint Protais (to give its full name), in \nthe Rue Frangois-Miron, pay a trifle for a chair, \nand perhaps give something for the repairs of \nthe church and expenses of the society, if a \ncollection is taken up. On Holy Thursday, \n\n\n\n168 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nGood Friday, and Easter Sunday, the music \nis especially fine and impressive. \n\nIf you travel in France you must learn how \nto register your luggage, which is much more \ntroublesome to do on the Continent than in \nEngland. The process, which is the same in \nGermany and Italy, is as follows : As soon as \nyou get to a railway station, a porter takes the \nluggage from the cab to the checking-office, \nfor which he expects four sous a trunk, and \nit is placed on a very long wooden counter, in \na group together, and pushed up in its turn to \nthe scales, which are by the luggage agent\'s win- \ndow. In France you are allowed thirty kilos, \nor about sixty pounds ; in Germany twenty-five \nkilos, but in Italy every pound of luggage must \nbe paid for. When your turn comes, state in \na loud clear voice where you are going, and \ndeliver up your railway tickets, which will \nbe returned to you stamped, with a separate \nreceipt on a printed form, bearing a printed \nnumber, and, in writing, the number of pieces, \ntheir destination, and the price of transporta- \ntion. The same printed number is pasted on \neach of your pieces, and you should therefore \ncopy it as soon as possible into your pocket- \nbook, as the number alone, accompanying your \n\n\n\nFRANCE 169 \n\nkeys, which of course will open your own boxes, \nwill identify the luggage as yours on arrival, \nin case you should lose the printed receipt, \nwhich is called " billet de bagage " in French, \n" gepackschein " in German, and " scontrino \'\' \nin Italian. This may save enormous trouble. \nAfter your luggage is once registered to any \nplace within the boundaries of the country, \nwhich it should be at least ten minutes before \nthe train starts, you need not concern yourself \nabout it though you may have to change trains \nseveral times. \n\nIf you know how much your luggage weighs, \nas you will be able to do by consulting the first \nreceipt you get, on which the weight in kilo- \ngrammes is marked, you will be able to calcu- \nlate very closely how much it will cost on any \njourney. \n\nIf you possibly can, go to the valley of the \nLoire in spring or early summer, and don\'t \nforget to take Mr. James\'s "Little Tour in \nFrance " with you. If you have good weather \nyou can see the group of chateaux for which it \nis famous within a week or ten days, supposing \nyou have no more time to give, and the roads \nare exceptionally good, if you wish to make a \nbicycle trip of it. Also run down to Chartres \n\n\n\n170 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nover night, and to Laon, as well, to see their \ngreat cathedrals. You may leave Paris in the \nmorning, arrive at either of them in the middle \nof the day, which will give you the afternoon \nand the next morning, and you can return \nto Paris before night. Rheims is about the \nsame distance, and when you have seen those \nthree cathedrals, besides Notre Dame de Paris, \nyou will have at least an idea of French Gothic \narchitecture. Look particularly at the stained \nglass in Chartres, and Laon, and Rheims, which \nis exceedingly fine ; the art of making it was \nlost for several hundred years, to be found \nagain with a different expression but equal \nsplendour, in our own day and country, by \nMr. John La Farge. \n\nFrance is a country of inexhaustible riches ; \nyou may spend your life there, as in Italy, and \nnever be done going to school, but the task will \nbe an ever new pleasure. \n\nSOME BOOKS ABOUT FRANCE \n\nA star (*) means that a book is of portable size, and useful \nfor local reference. \n\nT. means that it is published in the Tauchnitz edition. \n\n*Walks in Paris, Augustus J. C. Hare. Macmillan. \n*Days near Paris, Augustus J. C. Hare. Macmillan. \n\xe2\x99\xa6Southwestern France, Augustus J. C. Hare. Macmillan. \n\n\n\nFRANCE 171 \n\n*A Little Tour in France, Henry James. T. \n\nOld Court Life in France (2 vols.), Mrs. Elliott. T. \n\nRenaissance of Art in France, Mrs. Mark Pattison. \n\nMac mill an. \nThe Court of France in the Sixteenth Century (2 vols.), \n\nLady Jackson. Scribner. \nOld Paris, Lady Jackson. Scribner. \nFrance (2 vols.), J. E. C. Bodley. Macmillan. \n*The Bible of Amiens, Ruskin. George Allen. \nFrench Home Life, F. Marshall. Appleton. \nThe Stones of Paris in History and Letters (2 vols.), \n\nBenjamin and Charlotte Martin. Scribner. \nHistoire de Paris, F. Bournon. \n\nArchitecture of Provence, D. Macgibbon. Douglas. \nTravels in France in 1787-8-9, Arthur Young (Bohn \n\nLibrary). Macmillan. \nLe Chateau de Versailles (2 vols.), L. E. Diissieux. \nOld Touraine (2 vols.), T. A. Cook. Macmillan. \nThe Story of Rouen, T. A. Cook. Macmillan. \nMediaeval France, Gustave Masson. Putnam. \nModern France, Andre Le Bon. Putnam. \nFrench and English, P. G. Hamerton. Roberts. \nModern Frenchmen, P. G. Hamerton. Roberts. \nLa Peinture en Europe, Le Louvre : Lafenestre and Richt- \n\nenberger (in English also). Scribner. \nIn Praise of Paris, T. Child. Harper. \nMemorable Paris Houses, W. Harrison. Scribner. \nPromenades a Versailles, Philippe Gilles. \nFrance of To-day, M. Betham-Edwards. T. \nThe Maritime Alps, by the author of " Vera." T. \n\n\n\n1T2 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nA FEW NOVELS \n\nTwelfth and Thirteenth Centuries \n\nArthur of Brittany Peter Leicester. \n\nGood Saint Louis and his Times .... A. E. Bray. \nMarie de Brabant C. P. F. Meoegault. \n\nFourteenth Century \n\nBefore the Dawn George Dulac. \n\nIsabeau de Bavi^re Alexandre Dumas. \n\nThe Provost of Paris W. S. Browning. \n\nFifteenth Century \n\nCharles le Tdmeraire Alexandre Dumas. \n\nQuentin Durward Walter Scott. T. \n\nNotre Dame de Paris Victor Hugo. \n\nA Stormy Life Georgiana Fullerton. T. \n\nSixteenth Century \n\nA Chaplet of Pearls CM. Yonge. T. \n\nLa Reine Margot Alexandre Dumas. \n\nFrancois de Guise J. M. Brisset. \n\nGood Old Times Anne Manning. \n\nSeventeenth Century \n\nLes Trois Mousquetaires .... Alexandre Dumas. \n\nCinq-Mars Alfred de Vigny. \n\nDorothy Arden J. M. Calwell. \n\nLa Maison de Maureze Henri Greville. \n\nSister Louise G. J. Whyte-MelviUe. T. \n\n\n\nFRANCE 173 \n\nEighteenth Century \n\nThe Atelier du Lys Margaret Roberts. T. \n\nA Tale of Two Cities Charles Dickens. T, \n\nLe Collier de la Reine Alexandre Dumas. \n\nCerise G. J. Whyte-Melville. T. \n\nQuatrevingt-treize Victor Hugo. \n\nCitoyenne Jacqueline Sarah Tytler. T. \n\nOn the Edge of the Storm . . Margaret Roberts. T. \n\nNineteenth Century \n\nHistoire d\'uii Conscrit Erckmann-Chatrian. \n\nWaterloo Erckmann-Chatrian. \n\nThe Parisians Bulwer Lytton. T. \n\nWithin Iron Walls (the siege of Paris) . Annie Lucas. \nWorkman and Soldier (the Commune) . . J. F. Cobb. \nA Week in a French Country-House . Adelaide Sartoris. \nHotel du Petit St. Jean by the author of " Vera." T. \nThe Village on the Cliff .... Miss Thackeray. T. \n\n\n\nGERMANY \n\nFormerly in Germany almost every little \nstate had its own mint, which was bewildering ; \nbut there is now a universal coinage. There is \nno copper money except in very old-fashioned \ndistricts, the new pieces being all made of \nnickel, and very ugly they are. \n\nThere are one hundred pfennigs in a mark, \nwhich has the value of an English shilling, or \ntwenty-four of our cents. The smallest nickel \ncoin is for five pfennigs or one cent, and is the \nequivalent of a French copper sou. " Pfennigs " \nsounds so like " pennies " that an American is \ntempted to think that the little nickel piece \nmarked " five pfennigs " is worth five cents in- \nstead of only one \xe2\x80\x94 which to a railway porter \nis a very harrowing error. There are also \nnickel pieces for ten and twenty pfennigs, the \nsmallest silver one being for fifty pfennigs or \nhalf a mark. Then come one and two mark \npieces and also one for five marks ; the smallest \ngold coin is for ten marks, and the one which \n174 \n\n\n\nGERMANY 175 \n\ncorresponds to the English sovereign and the \nFrench louis is worth twenty. \n\nHere is the rough table of equivalents be- \ntween German money and ours : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nGerman. American. \n\nFive pfennigs = a fraction over one cent. \n\nTen pfennigs = about two cents. \n\nTwenty pfennigs = about four cents. \n\nFifty pfennigs = Ten cents. \n\nOne mark (or 100 pfennigs) = Twenty-four cents. \n\nTen marks = Two dollars and a half. \n\nTwenty marks = Five dollars. \n\nIn many ways Germany is a pleasant coun- \ntry for women travelling alone, as the customs \nare simple and the scale of expenses not high. \nYou can go second class everywhere on the \nrailways ; indeed, there is a well-known German \nsaying that only "princes, fools, and Americans" \ntravel first class, but be careful, in this nation \nof smokers, to choose a carriage marked " Nicht- \nraucher " (non-smoking), or else the " Damen- \ncoupe," which is reserved for our sex. \n\nIn Germany, as in Italy, we are liked because \nso many people from both countries have emi- \ngrated to North or South America, and if you \nremark that America is like a new Germany, \nyou will find yourself immediately popular. Do \n\n\n\n176 EUROPEAN TEAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nnot feel too contemptuous if, after you say you \nlive in New York, you are asked whether you \nhave ever happened to meet a certain person \nwho lives in Denver or Rio Janeiro, because it \nmight not be quite easy for you to answer \nsuddenly questions involving European local \ngeography. You will find a great many more \npeople, in all classes of society, who are able to \nspeak English, than you will either in France \nor Italy ; and if they know ever so little they \nare always anxious to practise it, which is con- \nvenient for travellers whose knowledge of Ger- \nman is limited. \n\nThere is almost as much difference between \none part of the country and another as there is \nin Italy or in the United States, the Bavarians \nand southern Germans being more easy-going, \nmore artistic, and apparently more good-na- \ntured, than their brothers farther north. Al- \nthough all Germany is united so far as her \nmilitary system is concerned, Prussia is still \ndistinctly the military centre, and as for Aus- \ntria, although we are apt to include it in \nGermany because its people speak the same \nlanguage, it is really entirely different, and you \nmust be careful not to call an Austrian " Ger- \nman," for he may not like it. \n\n\n\nGERMANY 177 \n\nEven a woman must realize almost as soon \nas she crosses the frontier that she is among the \ngreatest military nation of our time, and in \nPrussia one feels it at every turn. In the pres- \nent emperor\'s zeal for effective administration \nhe does not resemble the common law, which, \naccording to the old axiom, does not con- \ncern itself with trifles. Nothing is too small \nto escape his supervision, and his irreverent \nsubjects in Berlin say that if he had not been \ncalled by divine authority to the throne of the \nHohenzoUerns, he would have made an admira- \nble superintendent of police. \n\nRailways have practically taken the place \nof all other conveyances now in England and \nFrance, except as an amusement, like coaching \naround London ; but in the more remote parts \nof Germany it is still possible to travel by dili- \ngence, or " Eilwagen," which is as great a mis- \nnomer as " fly " in English, " eilen " meaning \nto hurry, which these arks certainly do not. \nNeedless to say they are under government \nsupervision, and therefore as strictly regulated \nas the post-office, from which, in the little \ntowns and villages where you will find them, \nthey usually start. If the country is pretty, \nwhich is of course the inducement for taking \n\n\n\n178 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nthem, you will see it better than from a train, \nand if you are not in a hurry, and it does not \nhappen to be very dusty, there is no pleasanter \nway to travel unless you hire a carriage for \nyourselves, which is easy to do, and not expen- \nsive. The cost per day of a carriage with two \nhorses, or " zwei-spanner," which will carry four \npeople and a very moderate amount of luggage \nbehind, is from eighteen to twenty-five marks, \nand an " ein-spanner," with one horse, for two \npeople, ought to cost from ten to fifteen. The \ndriver expects a mark a day as his " trink- \ngeld," or tip, but he pays all the expenses of \n\xe2\x80\xa2himself and his horses. Supposing that you \nare in a village of the Bavarian Highlands, and \nwant to make a driving tour of a few days, you \nwould arrange for it in this way. Send for the \ninnkeeper (for your lodging will scarcely rise \nto the dignity of an hotel), and tell him you \nwant a driver whom he can recommend. When \nthe man comes, he will bring a little book in \nwhich former employers have written what \nthey thought of his services ; you will be lucky \nif these opinions are not all in German char- \nacters, and, indeed, some knowledge of the \nlanguage is almost essential if you mean to \ntravel in this antiquated way. If you like the \n\n\n\nGERMANY 179 \n\nman\'s looks and references, say you want to see \nhis horses, and this even if you are not learned \nin horseflesh. He will respect you all the more \nif he thinks you know what you are about, and \nwhen he brings them for inspection, any woman \ncan see whether or not a horse\'s neck or back is \nsore, or its legs swollen. Tell him to walk them \nup and down slowly, and see if they go stiff \nor lame \xe2\x80\x94 they will show it then, although they \nmight not at a faster gait. Make your bargain \nwith him before the hotel-keeper, or some one \nwhom he will know is a witness, in case of any \ndifficulty as to terms when you part, although \nthis is not very likely, for the German " Lohn- \nKutscher" is as a rule an honest creature. \nThe country around Ober-Ammergau is well \nsuited to this way of travelling, but during the \ntime of the Passion play, all prices become \nrelatively as feverish as those of Paris in an \nexhibition year. With regard to that perform- \nance (to use a conventional word which ill \ndescribes it), all I can say is, that when I saw \nit years ago, it left a profound and reverent \nimpression on my mind, and I have always \nlonged to see it again. If you mean to go, \nunless you should be so blessed by fortune as \nto have friends in Munich who will look after \n\n\n\n180 EXJEOPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nyou, the best thing you can do is to put your- \nself into the hands of Mr. Cook, through whom \nyou may make every arrangement as to lodging \nand tickets, even if you do not join one of his \nparties. \n\nRailway fares in Germany are cheaper than \nin England or France, those for the second \nclass being about two cents a mile, and many \nof the carriages are arranged like our own. \nThe American who goes into an European \nWagner or Pullman car has at first a sensation \nof being crowded into something smaller than \nit should be, and so it is, for the tunnels in \nEurope are lower than ours, and the gauge of \nsome roads narrower, which obliges a compres- \nsion of the original model. Where an English \nrailway porter would expect sixpence, or his \nFrench fellow ten sous, for carrying the hand \nluggage of a party from the train to the omni- \nbus or cab, a German will usually be contented \nwith twenty-five or thirty pfennigs, and about \nthe same difference runs through all prices. \n\nBerlin is dear compared to other German \ncities, and women who come for serious study \nof any kind usually settle at Munich, Stuttgart, \nor Dresden. The last is pleasant and home- \nlike, and one of its museums is particularly \n\n\n\nGERMANY 181 \n\ninteresting because it is the repository of all \nsorts of things collected gradually from one \ngeneration to another by the reigning family of \nSaxony. Now reigning families of other coun- \ntries have frequently had the same inclination, \nbut to all of them there has come a time of \nrevolution when their bronzes were melted into \npennies, their porcelains thrown out of the \nwindows, and their royal garments degraded to \nvulgar backs. Dresden has never been taken \nby siege from without, nor looted from within, \nso in her Johanneum you may see not only a \nnoble collection of armour, very well arranged, \nbut an infinite variety of little traps and uten- \nsils which seem to bring court life in the sev- \nenteenth and eighteenth centuries very close. \nThere is a complete set of highly ornamented \ngardening tools with which an Elector of Sax- \nony imitated Adam three hundred years ago ; \ncase after case is filled with every weapon or \naccoutrement belonging to hunting and hawk- \ning ; \xe2\x80\x94 even the massive dog-collars of some \nhuge old hounds are piously kept. \n\nIf every woman is at heart a rake, you will \nbe interested in some very fine clothes, once \npart of the wardrobe of Augustus the Strong, \nthe handsomest and most dissolute man of his \n\n\n\n182 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nday, whose son, Count Maurice of Saxony, was \nthe lover of Adrienne Lecouvreur. \n\nHer name naturally suggests the theatre, \nwhich is excellent throughout Germany, as \nmany of the best houses receive a government \nsubsidy. The court theatres are, however, \nclosed for two or three months in summer. \nThe usual price is from five to seven marks for \nthe stalls, and eight or ten for a seat in a box. \nThese are sold separately, but the chairs are \nnot numbered, the first-comers having a right \nto those in front. \n\nIf you have time to take any German lessons \nthe easiest way to get hold of a teacher is to \nask a good bookseller to recommend one, which \nhe can almost always do, or else he will give \nyou the address of a teachers\' agency, where \nyou will be given a list of them. The usual \nprice is two marks a lesson, as it is two francs \nin France, and two lire in Italy. \n\nThe public parks of Germany are beauti- \nful, the Englischer Garten at Munich, the \nGrosser Garten at Dresden, and the Thier- \nGarten at Berlin being models of their kind, \nwhile there are many little squares in all the \ncities which certainly give a great deal of pleas- \nure to the inhabitants. There is one small \n\n\n\nGERMANY 183 \n\npark in Berlin, the Victoria, which has an \nelaborate cliff constructed of artificial rocks, \nand every morning at a certain time a stream of \nwater tumbles down it in a deliberate cascade as \nlong as it is permitted to run. The pleasure \nof watching this never seems to pall on the \npopulation, for a patient crowd collects every \nmorning to see the waterfall turned on. \n\nThis taste for simple pleasures is very char- \nacteristic of Germany, and the life of her peo- \nple most interesting to watch. It is perfectly \npossible for two or three ladies to go to any of \nthe respectable concert-halls or gardens, and \nwell worth doing. If it is indoors, there is a \nplatform for the orchestra, the floor being cov- \nered with little tables, each filled with a family \ngroup. Sometimes a substantial "Abendes- \nsen," or supper, is being eaten ; at others, beer \nor white wine is the refreshment. The elder \nwomen knit and gossip, and if the daughter of \nthe family is engaged to be married, her be- \ntrothed sits very close to her, often with his \narm around her waist, and they gaze at each \nother as though they were alone in Paradise. \nThe air is blue with smoke, for every man has \neither a cigar or a pipe, and waiters rush furi- \nously to and fro, each carrying a number of \n\n\n\n184 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nbeer-mugs that seems incredible. If it is sum- \nmer, the same thing goes on out-of-doors, and \nthe music, which is the excuse for this happy \ngathering, is nearly always excellent. \n\nFrenchmen seem to like to take their families \noff in little groups, each somewhat apart from \nthe other, but Germans are essentially gregari- \nous in their pleasures. \n\nThe " conditorei," or cake-shop, is not to be \noverlooked in German life. As dinner is at \none o\'clock, and supper not until nine or ten, \nby four or five it is necessary to take a light \nintermediate meal, corresponding to the Eng- \nlish afternoon tea. Coffee is preferred as a \ndrink, and the solid nourishment consists of all \nsorts and conditions of cakes ; if you are so \nlucky as to have German friends, you may be \ninvited to a " Kaffee-Klatsch," which answers \nto an afternoon tea-party ; but if you are a \nmere tourist you go to munch and sip at a \n"conditorei." \n\nBesides the regular hotels of all grades in \nBerlin, there are there, and probably in other \nGerman cities, hybrid establishments of a kind \nknown as a " Hospiz," supposed to be meant \nespecially for ladies who are alone, but gentle- \nmen also go to them, perhaps on the principle \n\n\n\nGERMANY 185 \n\nthat makes them crowd into the ladies\' waiting- \nroom at a station. It cannot be for amusement, \nas a " Hospiz " is exceedingly dull, and only a \nlittle cheaper than a quiet hotel. We tried one \nin Berlin, and found it a sort of large "pen- \nsion," full of dreary elderly people, who talked \nchiefly about what they had to eat. \n\nCabs in Berlin are divided into two classes. \nIn those of the first class the drivers have blue \ncoats and white collars, and have a right to a \nmark for a " course," whereas those of the sec- \nond class, who have yellow collars, only get \nsixty pfennigs. The cabs or " droschken " are \nusually victorias, and are paid for by time \ninstead of by distance ; in each one, directly \nfacing you below the coachman\'s seat, there \nis a little dial with a hand which works while \nyou are moving, checking off the number of \npfennigs to which the cabby will be entitled \nwhen you stop. Of course the dial is set again \nfor each new fare, and it is a fascinating con- \ntrivance. \n\nThe Zoological Garden, which is in the park \nnamed after it, is one of the best in the world, \nand the animals look well cared for. There \nmust be a great deal in environment, because \nfat, stodgy cakes can scarcely be the natural \n\n\n\n186 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nfood of the American coyote, yet one which \nwas there a few years ago devoured them with \nrapture. \n\nThe finest hotels and smartest shops are on \nthe south side of the famous street Unter den \nLinden, so called from a double row of lime \ntrees in the middle. Late in the afternoon \nthis south pavement is crowded, but it is not \nthe custom for ladies to walk there at that \ntime, so you had better do your shopping, if \nyou have any, in the morning. \n\nAfter a fortnight in a quiet German hotel, it \nwill usually be quite enough to give the portier \nand your waiter eight marks, the chambermaid \nsix, and the " haus-knecht," or porter, three. \n\nThe post-office regulations are much the \nsame as in France, and letters may be registered \nfrom any district station, but in some places, \nBerlin, for instance, the " paket postampt," or \nparcel post-office, is in a particular building \napart from the others. If you have a parcel to \nsend you had better ask your hotel porter as to \nthis, or better still, let him attend to the errand \nfor you, as the postal officials are sometimes \nrather gruff to women, who are not pampered \nin Germany as they are in America. \n\nWhitsuntide is the great popular holiday. \n\n\n\nGEKMANY 187 \n\nwhich takes the place held by Easter with us, \nand if the weather is fine everybody who can \npossibly leave a city pours into the country \nimmediately outside it, and except for the dull \nuniformity of modern dress, one may see some- \nthing of what a mediaeval festival must have \nbeen like. \n\nIn a very different way, Germany has as \nmuch to offer the student or the tourist as \nFrance, and the fact that the same person \nrarely cares equally for both, helps to explain \nwhy the two great nations seem destined to \nremain intimate enemies. \n\nSOME BOOKS ABOUT GERMANY \n\nA star (*) means that a book is of portable size, and useful \nfor local reference. \n\nT. means that it is published in the Tauchnitz edition. \n\nGermany, S. Baring-Gould. Putnam. \n\nLife of Goethe, G. H. Lewes. \n\nThe Story of Nuremburg, Cecil Headlam. Macmillan. \n\nIn the Black Forest, L. G. Seguin. \n\nThe Rhine, F. K. Hunt. \n\nAustria, Sidney Whitman. Putnam. \n\nArt in the Mountains; the Story of the Passion-Play, \n\nHenry Blackburn. Sampson Low. \nKulturhistorisches Bilderbuch aus drei Jahrhunderten, \n\nG. Hirth. \nAlterthum und Gegenwart unter drei Kaisern, Ernst \n\nCurtius. \n\n\n\n188 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nGoethe Vorlesungen, Hermann Grimm. \n\nWanderbuch, Graf Moltke. \n\n9.9 Jahre am preussischen Hofe, Grafin Voss. \n\nBetrachtungen eines in Deutschland reisenden Deutschen, \n\nP. D. Fisher. \nDeutsche National Litteratur, Rudolph Gottschall. \nDie Geschichte Deutschlands im 19ten Jahrhundert, \n\nVon Treitschke. \nGeschichte des deutschen Volkes, David Miiller. \nDer franzosische Feldzug (1870-1871), Niemann. \nGeschichte der deutschen Frauenwelt, Johannes Scherr. \nDeutsche Frauen im Mittelalter, Weinhold. \n\n\n\nA FEW NOVELS \n\nNinth Century \nEkkehard (trans.) J. Victor Scheffel. T. \n\nTwelfth Century \n\nBarbarossa J. E. Bischoff. \n\nFourteenth Century \nThe Tower of the Hawk Jane L. Willyams. \n\nFifteenth Century \nThe Cloister and the Hearth . . . Charles Reade. T. \nThe Dove in the Eagle\'s Nest . . . CM. Yonge. T. \n\nSixteenth Century \nChronicles of the Schonberg-Cotta Family . E. Charles. T. \nLux et Umbra Georg Hesekiel. \n\nSeventeenth Century \n\nDie Tochter des Piccolomini Herlossohn. \n\nHistorische Novellen Adolf Stern. \n\nDie Briider A. Ungern-Sternberg. \n\n\n\nGERMANY 189 \n\nEighteenth Century \n\nFriedrich der Grosse E. H. von Dedenrott. \n\nThe Prisoner\'s Daughter Esme Stuart. \n\nNineteenth Century \n\nDie Ahnen Gustav Freitag. \n\nEnge Welt Use Frapan. \n\nEin Sohn des Volkes Levin Schiicking. \n\nThe Witch of Prague . . . . F. Marion Crawford. T. \nA Cigarette Maker\'s Romance (Munich) \n\nF. Marion Crawford. T. \nNina Balatka (Prague) . . . Anthony Trollope. T. \n\nDas Rathsel des Lebens Paul Heyse. \n\nDie Familie Buchholz Julius Stinde. \n\nAm Kreuz : ein Passions-roman aus Oberammergau \n\n(also in English) . . . Wilhelmine von Hillern. \nGeier-Wally (the Tyrol) . . Wilhelmine von Hillern. \nThe First Violin Jessie Fothergill. T. \n\n\n\nITALY \n\nThe finances of Italy are now in such a poor \ncondition that gold is at a considerable pre- \nmium and silver has practically disappeared \nfrom circulation, being replaced by coppers for \none and two " soldi " or sous, which in out of \nthe way parts of the south are almost the only \nmedium. \n\nThen come notes for one, two, five, ten, and \ntwenty lire, which soon become filthy, and \nremain in circulation until they drop to pieces. \nEven if you are not a slave to the fear of \nmicrobes, you may well shrink from touch- \ning one of them with your bare hand. As \nthe notes are very small and usually grimy, it \nis not always easy to tell them apart ; but they \nare made of different sizes because many of the \npeasants cannot read, and therefore you will \nsoon become familiar with them. \n\nFrench and Italian coppers being of the same \nvalue, pass interchangeably in the two countries, \nbut not silver pieces. \n\n190 \n\n\n\nITALY 191 \n\nAs the coinage is decimal, the table of values \nequivalent to ours is the same as in France : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nItalian. American. \n\nOne soldo = One cent. \n\nTen soldi (or fifty centesimi) = Ten cents. \n\nOne lira = Twenty cents. \n\nFive lire = One dollar. \n\nTen lire = Two dollars. \n\nTwenty lire = Four dollars. \n\nTravellers who mean to go direct to Italy- \nwill probably take one of the North German \nLloyd or Hamburg- American steamers, and land \neither at Naples or Genoa. From five to seven \ndays out from New York the Azores are usually \nsighted, and, if they are passed in daylight, and \nthe weather is fine, the boat runs close to land, \nso that it is easy to see the little villages \nspotted here and there, and even the flocks of \nsheep which graze on the round green hillsides. \nIn two and a half days more Gibraltar should \nbe reached, and there steamers stop long enough \nto give passengers two or three hours ashore. \nIt is well worth while to make this flying visit, \nfor Gibraltar is one of the most picturesque \nplaces in the world, besides having historical \ninterest. \n\nThe steamship companies have an arrange- \n\n\n\n192 EUKOPEAN TKAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nment with the local steam tenders, in order that \nyou may be sure of getting back in time, and the \nround trip costs two francs, or forty cents. Be- \nfore starting, make sure that some one in the \nparty has a watch, and that it is set by the ship\'s \nclock, as nothing spoils pleasure more than \nhaving to worry for fear one should be late. A \nlittle English money is handy to have also, but \nnot necessary, for every coinage of the world \npasses at Gibraltar, as every language seems \nto be more or less spoken. It is quite safe to \ntrust yourselves to one of the smiling and poly- \nglot cabbies who are waiting on the pier, but as \nwell to ask for his tariff and agree on what you \nshall pay him when he has brought you back \nagain. As the time is limited, it will be necessary \nto decide whether you will see the fortifications \nor get a general idea of the whole place, and, \nunless you are especially interested in military \nengineering, you had better make the latter \nchoice. The cabby will probably suggest going \nfirst to what is called "the neutral ground" \nbehind the town, on the land side, because from \nit one gets the best idea of the great rock. The \nfirst view of it from the sea is somewhat disap- \npointing, as it slopes back like any other hill, \nwith peaceful houses, many of them painted a \n\n\n\nITALY 193 \n\ncheerful pink or blue, settled comfortably on its \nsides, while a little higher up there is an obso- \nlete Spanish fort. But on the land side the \neffect is entirely different. From a level stretch \nof bare ground a sheer cliff rises grim and gray \nfor nearly fifteen hundred feet, pierced at close \nintervals by rows of holes which look as though \nthey might have been drilled by some gigantic \nwoodpecker. These are the famous galleries. \nAfter a good look at the rock, go back into the \nprincipal street of the little town, a narrow and \ncrowded thoroughfare, exceedingly interesting \nto any one who sees it for the first time, \nbecause the most incongruous elements jostle \neach other, quite unconscious that there is any- \nthing odd in their neighbourhood. Stolid Eng- \nlish grooms are exercising sleek polo ponies, \nfollowed by fussy little terriers ; fresh-faced \nEnglish girls, with smart sailor hats set on their \nshining hair, are walking as energetically as if \nthey were in their county town, while every now \nand then the narrow street is almost blocked by \na string of tiny donkeys hidden under sway- \ning piles of green grass or vegetables, the last \none ridden by a Spanish peasant woman who \nsits sideways on a little saddle, her keen dark \nface framed in a bright shawl. And there are \n\n\n\n194 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nreal Moors in white bournouses and turbans, \nwith bare brown legs and loose felt slippers, and \nin their impassive faces the scornful calm of the \nOriental among Western barbarians whom he \ndespises while he fears them. English soldiers, \ntoo, are everywhere, and of right, for Gibraltar \nhas one of the largest fortress garrisons in the \nworld. There is a pretty little public garden \ncalled the Alameda, in which the heliotrope \nand geranium bushes are as large as lilacs in a \nNew England dooryard, and the market is worth \nlooking into, especially if you want to buy \nfresh fruit, and by that time you will be due \nat the dock again. \n\nMaltese and Spanish laces are cheap at Gibral- \ntar, and if there is not time to buy them ashore \nthe men who spread their wares on the steam- \ner\'s deck during her stop are the representa- \ntives of the shops to which you would have \ngone. Spanish fans, brass-handled clasp knives, \nand other characteristic trifles may be bought \nhere, and nowhere else outside of Spain. \n\nIn about thirty hours more one reaches Al- \ngiers, and some steamers stop there in winter, \nas long as at Gibraltar. As soon as a boat \ndrops anchor she is boarded by a Cook\'s inter- \npreter, asking if one wants to go ashore, and it \n\n\n\nITALY 195 \n\nis best to make up a party among your fellow- \npassengers and put yourselves in his charge, as \nto wander about Algiers with a stray cabman \nmight not be safe, and is never satisfactory. \n\nIf the daylight serves, drive first to the Jar- \ndin d\'Essai, which is about a mile and a half \nto the eastward of the town. This was started \nsome years ago by the French government in \norder to see what trees and plants would thrive \nbest and be most useful to the colonists, and \nthere is an alley or avenue of bamboos, and \nanother of india-rubber trees, which give an \nexcellent idea of tropical vegetation. The en- \nvirons of Algiers are interesting, because again \nthere is the sharp contrast of Western civiliza- \ntion with the unchanging East. Arab carts \nwith white side curtains and very rudimentary \nsprings are side by side with well-turned-out \nvictorias on the smooth French roads, and in the \ntram-cars the sturdy and voluble little French \nsoldiers are crowded against Arab women, \nveiled and swathed into shapeless bundles. \n\nIt is usual to leave the cabs at the top of the \nold Arab quarter, and walk down through it, \nmeeting them again in the French quarter \nbelow. To the guides every inch of the town \nis familiar, and they will know where you \n\n\n\n196 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nought and ought not to go. The narrow, \nwinding streets are almost as steep as stairs, \nand one gets glimpses through archways and \nopen doors of a life that seems entirely Ori- \nental ; but at every corner there is a very \nmodern gas-lamp, and the name of the street \nin white letters on a smug blue enamel plate, \nwhich is rather unromantic, although doubtless \nuseful. \n\nOn the eleventh or twelfth day after leaving \nNew York the steamer should reach Naples, \nwhich is generally sighted early in the morn- \ning. The approach to the bay is extremely \nbeautiful, and well worth getting up to see. \nOn the right, Capri and the rocky foreland of \nSorrento are always visible ; the larger island \nof Ischia lies on the left, but Vesuvius is often \nalmost hidden by the morning mist, and comes \nout suddenly, much higher than one expects it \nto be. A good hour and a half passes after \nentering the bay before the steamer is moored \nand the health officer allows passengers to land. \nThere is now a new quay from which passen- \ngers for America go directly on board their \nsteamers, but when coming out they are disem- \nbarked and taken on shore by tender, as here- \ntofore, and those whose voyage terminates or \n\n\n\nITALY 197 \n\nbegins here are landed or embarked at the com- \npany\'s expense if the steamship is not able to \ngo alongside the quay. The steamship com- \npanies have no tender service of their own, but \npassengers going on to Genoa may land while \nthe vessel stops at Naples, by means of a pas- \nsenger tender which runs between the hours of \n7 A.M. and 8 p.m., unless special arrangements \nare made. Tickets to shore can be had on this \npassenger tender at the price of two and a half \nlire, which permit the passenger to return to \nthe steamer on the tender, or, if the latter be \nnot ready alongside the landing-place, in a \nsmall boat, without further charge. \n\nAs soon as the vessel stops, hundreds of row- \nboats come alongside, and the boatmen scream \nand gesticulate in the hope of attracting a \nfare, but it is in every case better, cheaper, and \nquicker to go ashore in the company\'s tender, \nwhich lands passengers with their hand luggage \nat the custom-house pier. Luggage from the \nhold follows almost immediately in a barge. \nThe custom-house arrangements at Naples are \nmuch better than they used to be, for cabin and \nsteerage passengers, with all their effects, were \nthen landed in a small space, which was soon \ncrowded to overflowing, but still there is no \n\n\n\n198 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\norderly system, and the only way to do is to \npick out the strongest porter in sight, and then, \nwith his assistance, to rout out each separate \npiece of one\'s luggage and collect it in one \nplace, where one member of the party should \nstand guard over it, and count the pieces. \nEverything then has to be put upon wooden \ncounters, behind which the custom-house offi- \ncials are stationed, arrayed in a curious uniform \nof yellow and black, suggesting the operatic \nstage. They are much less strict in their ex- \namination than at Genoa, but the process is a \nlong one and a trial to patience. The best way \nis to open every piece without hesitation, having \none\'s keys ready beforehand. The articles for \nwhich the strictest search is made are tobacco, \nspirits, perfumery, lace, and any sort of silk or \nwoollen stuff in the piece. There is no law \nlimiting the value of clothing intended for \none\'s own use. \n\nIt is generally a great mistake to attempt to \nbribe one of the inspectors, unless by some acci- \ndent he is quite out of sight of all other offi- \ncials, when he will accept five lire with eager- \nness, and the passenger will have no further \ndifficulty. Women who have no man in their \nparty, and who explain that they are travelling \n\n\n\nITALY 199 \n\nfor pleasure, rarely, as I have said, have much \ntrouble at any European custom-house, and, if \nyou begin with that of Naples, you can cope \nwith any which may follow. \n\nWhile the examination is going on, one of \nthe party had better go outside the gates of the \nbuilding (which she will be allowed to do if she \ncarries nothing with her), and find the omnibus \nof the hotel to which they mean to go, as its \nconductor will be of material assistance in get- \nting the luggage from the custom-house, and \nshould be asked to take charge of it and pay \nthe porters who carry it out, as otherwise \nhalf a dozen of them will seize each a \nsingle object, and expect to be paid a day\'s \nwages for carrying it a few steps. Once \ninstalled in the omnibus the traveller\'s worst \ntroubles are over. \n\nNaples is a bad place to stop in, as it is \nnoisy, dirty, dear, and not always healthy. \nThis is not now due to the water, which is \nabundant, and as good as any in Italy \xe2\x80\x94 in \nfact, Naples and Rome are the two cities in \nwhich it is always safe to drink it. There \nis enough of interest to be seen, however, to \noccupy two or three days, during which it is \na good plan to make one\'s headquarters at Cas- \n\n\n\n200 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\ntellamare, which is only an hour by rail from \nNaples, and less than half an hour\'s drive from \nPompeii, besides being within easy reach of \nAmalfi and Psestum. \n\nRemember after visiting Pompeii to go again, \neven if you have been there already, to the \nMuseum at Naples where the principal objects \nfound in the excavations are preserved, as it \nis impossible otherwise to form any idea of \nthe conditions of life and art in the ruined \ncity. \n\nIn case the party wishes to go on at once to \nRome, and there is a train within a few hours, \nit is not necessary to go to an hotel at all. There \nis sure to be a Cook\'s interpreter on the custom- \nhouse pier, who, on being shown the amount of \nthe luggage, will engage cabs enough to take \nit, and the travellers themselves, to the railway \nstation, which is nearly a mile from the port. \nThe cabmen may be paid by him in advance, \nand in case of any difficulty when you get to \nthe station, his colleague on duty there may be \nappealed to for assistance. As these interpre- \nters are employed by Cook to look after persons \ntravelling with the company\'s tickets, those \nwho have not taken the latter should give a \ngratuity for the help afforded, varying with \n\n\n\nITALY 201 \n\ncircumstances, and in this case from two to five \nlire, depending upon the size of the party and \nthe amount of luggage. Two lire for three \npeople would be enough, unless he has had \na great deal of trouble. I cannot insist too \nmuch upon the fact that of all Italian cities \nNaples is the one in which one is most ex- \nposed to the rapacity and thieving of por- \nters, cabbies, money-changers, street arabs, and \neven the smaller shopkeepers; and it is in- \nvariably better to put one\'s self into the \nhands of a representative of an hotel, or of \nCook\'s agents. Naples is the centre of gravity \nof all the dirt and evil in Italy; the country \nand the people steadily improve as one goes \nnorthward or southward. It is the richest as \nwell as the largest Italian city, and there is \nnext to no drunkenness, yet there is probably \nno spot in the civilized world where so many \nmalefactors, from pickpockets to murderers, are \ngathered into a community. \n\nAll cabs in Italy, as a general rule, are \nlittle one-horse victorias, and it is not safe to \nput anything into the hood behind, as the \nstreet thieves are uncommonly quick at grab- \nbing a parasol or a cloak. At the railway \nstation, which though large is generally very \n\n\n\n202 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\ncrowded, it is always a slow and inconvenient \nbusiness to buy tickets one\'s self. The por- \nters, who wear uniform caps with little visors, \nor a metal badge on their chests with a num- \nber on it, can be trusted with money, and \nwill procure them; but, whenever practicable, \ntickets should be bought beforehand in the cit}^, \neither from Cook\'s, or from the railway com- \npany\'s ticket office. If obliged to buy your \nown tickets, be sure to go to the right window \nof the many which face the porch to which \ncarriages drive up. At each window of a large \nItalian station the names of the other principal \nstations of each line are clearly posted up, as, \nfor instance, Roma-Firenze-Milano, or Foggia- \nBologna, or Foggia-Bari-Brindisi, and so forth. \nNever try to get to the window out of your \nturn. Take your place in the line, and, when \nyour turn comes, ask for your tickets, as the \nItalians do, in the fewest possible words, \nnamely, " Roma, prima, tre biglietti," which \nmeans " Rome, first class, three tickets." Ascer- \ntain beforehand as nearly as you can what your \ntickets will cost, and have ready the smallest \nnote that will cover it. The man at the win- \ndow will tell you the price, and, though it is \nstamped in small figures upon each ticket, \n\n\n\nITALY 203 \n\nyou must remember that there is now an \nadditional government tax which the ticket \nagent is obliged to calculate and write in \nink on the back of each ticket. This causes \nso much confusion, that at a railway station \nticket office it is quite out of the question to \ncount your change without causing the greatest \ninconvenience to those who are impatiently wait- \ning behind you. However, I have never known \na ticket agent to cheat, though an accident \nmight occur, as it does sometimes with tellers \nin banks. The Italians are extraordinarily \nquick and accurate at mental arithmetic, for \nItaly is really the beginning of the East, where \nthe most elaborate calculations are made with- \nout the aid of written figures. In Italy all \ntickets are cut at the entrance to the waiting- \nroom of the class for which they are sold. \nThese rooms are marked respectively I., II., and \nIII. in Roman numbers, and from them the \ntraveller is at liberty to go in and out as often \nas he pleases, merely showing his already cut \nticket as he passes the door. \n\nThe tedious process of registering luggage \non the Continent has been already explained \nin the notes on France. In Italy, as there, the \nporters who carry it from the cab to the check- \n\n\n\n204 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\ning office expect four sous for each trunk, and \nthe man who actually weighs it on the scales \nshould have a couple of sous for the job. The \nreceipt for luggage is called in Italian " scon- \ntrino," and every pound of it must be paid for. \n\nOne hundred kilos, which is roughly equal to \ntwo hundred pounds, is transported for exactly \nthe same price as that of one third-class passen- \nger ticket for the same distance ; fifty kilos for \nhalf a third-class ticket, and so on. The price \nof a third-class and a second-class ticket added \ntogether is equal to that of a first-class ticket, \nand you can therefore travel second class with \ntwo hundred pounds of luggage, at the rate for \nwhich you can travel first class with no lug- \ngage at all. \n\nWhere there is the least doubt about the \nfastenings of a trunk it should be corded and \nsealed, which will be done by the porter for the \nsum of five or six sous. The cord is not very \nstrong, but if a sealed cord put on by an \nemployee of the company is found broken on \narrival, the passenger can refuse to receive the \npiece of luggage without an examination in the \npresence of officials, to make sure that nothing \nhas been stolen. Though one hears many \nstories of robberies during transit, I have trav^ \n\n\n\nITALY 205 \n\nelled all over Italy, and have never met with \nany loss. The inference is that thieves do not \ntry to tamper with solid boxes which are well \nclosed. \n\nMost of the express trains on the main lines \nare so constructed that there is a lavatory \nbetween every two compartments, which is a \ngreat convenience. At Naples there is a fair \nrestaurant in the station, and hand luggage \nmay safely be left in charge of the head- \nwaiter. Between Naples and Rome there is \nonly one station, Ceprano, where food can be \nbought, and although the provisions are better \nthan in Naples the fact that the train stops only \nfive minutes leads to a scramble which most \ntravellers prefer to avoid. The trains are usu- \nally open half an hour before they start, and \nit is advisable to take one\'s place in good \ntime. \n\nIn Italian stations, two minutes before a train \nstarts, which it usually does exactly on time, \nthe train hands cry out, "In vettura! " (all \naboard), and all the doors of the carriages are \nclosed, after which the conductor immediately \nappears and demands the tickets. A shout of \n" Pronti ! " (ready) is then repeated from end \nto end of the station; next a shrill pocket \n\n\n\n206 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nwhistle is heard, and if everything is all right \nit is answered by a distant horn, with a fine \noperatic effect. Last of all, a short, sharp \nwhistle from the engine means real business, \nand the train draws out. The same sequence \nof sounds precedes the starting of each train, in \nevery station from Piedmont to Sicily. For \nreasons of economy express trains are over- \ncrowded in Italy, in the travelling season, and \nit is practically useless to tip the conductor in \nthe hope of securing more room. Six tickets, \nhowever, will secure the right to reserve a com- \npartment in any class, but notice must be given \nhalf an hour before the train starts. A label \nbearing the word " riservato " (reserved) will \nthen be attached to the door, and a party of \nsix persons can thus obtain the use of two seats \nwithout paying for them. In any Italian station, \nif you have reasonable cause of complaint, as \nfor instance, if a reserved carriage is invaded \nby other travellers, or if more people try to \ncrowd in than a carriage will hold, the best \nway to do is to appeal at once to the official \nwho wears a red cap. He is the station-master, \nhis authority is absolute, and he is never acces- \nsible to fees. In Naples and other large cities, \ntwo or more station-masters may be on duty \n\n\n\nITALY 207 \n\nat the same time, but they all have red caps \nwith gold braid. \n\nItalian trains, as a rule, are not heated in \nwinter by steam, but two long copper foot- \nwarmers, filled with hot water, are placed in \neach compartment, and are taken out and re- \nplaced by fresh ones every two or three hours, \naccording to the stops made. \n\nWhen the carriage is in a station, they are \nbrought alongside on trucks, the door of the \ncompartment is thrown open, and the porters \ninquire whether the passengers wish the foot- \nwarmers to be changed. The phrase is usu- \nally " Vuol cambiare gli scaldapiedi ? " to \nwhich one answers "si" or "no" as the case \nmay be. \n\nThese porters who change the foot- warmers \nseem to be, by the way, the only railway \nemployees in Europe, below the rank of a \nstation-master, who never receive any tip, and \nconsequently never expect it. \n\nAt the moment of entering the station at \nRome some one of the party should open the \nwindow, lean out, and call " Facchino " (porter) \nholding up two fingers if more than one man is \nneeded to carry the hand luggage. The one \nwho first catches your eye will run alongside \n\n\n\n208 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nthe carriage, and be ready to open the door as \nsoon as you stop. \n\n"Whenever your train is crowded, however, \nit is well to play Ancient Mariner, and hold \nyour porter with your glittering eye, for he \nmay get tired trotting along, as he knows there \nare plenty more guileless strangers in the other \ncarriages. \n\nThe whole party should get out and keep \ntogether until the porter has collected all the \nthings, and then follow him to the gate, where \nall the tickets must be given up. If you tell \nthe porter the name of your hotel he will \nguide you to its omnibus, and then you can pay \nhim and send him away. Give the "scon- \ntrino," or receipt for the luggage, to the con- \nductor of the omnibus, together with your keys, \nas all luggage entering the principal cities of \nItaly is subject to examination by the octroi \noffice. As a matter of fact respectable-looking \nbaggage is never opened, and the conductor will \nrefuse the keys if he knows they are not needed. \nIf you are in a great hurry to get to your hotel, \nand do not mind the difference of a franc or \ntwo, you can leave all your luggage and belong- \nings to come in the omnibus, and drive to the \nhotel in a cab ; but generally it is safer to sit \n\n\n\nITALY 209 \n\nquietly in the omnibus and see the luggage \nbrought out and piled on its top. A short \nladder which belongs to the omnibus is hooked \nagainst its side, and up this the heaviest boxes \nare carried, with wonderful quickness, on the \nshoulders of porters, and are dropped upon the \nroof of the vehicle with a resounding bang, \nuntil it seems as if they must surely come \nthrough. The omnibus conductor, who usu- \nally speaks a little English, will either pay \nthese porters for you, or will tell you what to \ngive them \xe2\x80\x94 the regular rate is four sous for \neach piece, but they expect a little more if the \ntrunks are very heavy. There is onl}^ one cen- \ntral station in Rome, as there is in Naples, and \nwhat I have said holds good of every principal \nstation in Italy. \n\nIn all Italian time-tables the time is reckoned \nfrom midnight to midnight, through the whole \ntwenty-four hours. At first it is puzzling to \nsee that a train will leave or arrive at nineteen \no\'clock ; but all you have to do is to subtract \ntwelve and the result will be afternoon time; \nfor instance, 16.20 o\'clock, with twelve sub- \ntracted, gives you 4.20 p.m. \n\nRome is very different from Naples, in that \nit is by no means a city of thieves. The cab- \n\n\n\n210 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nmen are quietly contented with their proper \nfare and are generally willing to oblige in the \nmatter of stopping a moment in a " course," if \nyou want to post a letter or to buy a bunch \nof flowers. The legal fare for cabs in Rome \nis only eighty centesimi the " course " in the \ndaytime, but it is customary to give a lira, \nespecially in the season. If you have one by \nthe hour, the cabby will be perfectly contented \nwith two lire an hour for as long as you want \nhim, with no further tip. There are many cab \nstands, and should you find a man who satis- \nfies you, he will be delighted to come to your \nhotel every morning for orders, and will serve \nyou punctually and well at the tariff rates, be- \nsides taking a friendly interest in your sight- \nseeing. If there are four in the party, for \ncomfort and speed it is better to take two small \ncabs rather than one of the cumbrous old lan- \ndaus that are to be found in some of the \nsquares. The tramAvay system in Rome, as in \nmost of the Italian cities, has developed wonder- \nfully in the last few years, and the trolley cars \nare generally clean and quick, although at cer- \ntain times of the day they are too full for com- \nfort. \n\nThe streets are not crowded, and in no part \n\n\n\nITALY 211 \n\nof Rome will you see any signs of the human \nscum which seethes in every corner of Naples. \nThe prices first asked in shops are not usually \nexorbitant; but you should never forget in \nItaly that bargaining is a custom of the coun- \ntry, generally looked upon by both buyers and \nshopkeepers as a reasonable recreation which it \nwould be a pity to forego. Some of the better \nshops in the Corso and the Via Condotti, as \nwell as the " department stores," such as Boc- \nconi\'s, branches of which are found everywhere \nin Italy, sell only at fixed prices which are \nplainly marked, and there are also fixed prices \nfor books and photographs; but in ordinary \nshops of all descriptions the seller expects to \nmake a reduction of ten or fifteen per cent, \ndepending upon the amount of the purchase. \nIt will be found a great convenience and saving \nof time to carry home small packages one\'s self, \nas the arrangements for delivery from the shops \nare of the most primitive description. \n\nAntiquaries everywhere are a class apart \namong shopkeepers, as their wares have no \nabsolutely definite value, and, in consequence, \ntheir scale of prices is decidedly sliding. Even \nthirty years ago it was sometimes possible to \npick up treasures for almost nothing, but of \n\n\n\n212 EUROPEAK TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nlate years Europe has been ransacked by the \nagents of dealers, and by people who knew \nboth the artistic and commercial values of what \nthey sought. It is almost impossible now to \ndiscover good old miniatures, and only a song \nby Patti or Melba will buy genuine enamels or \nrenaissance ornaments. Some fine lace is still \nnot very dear, but unless you really know about \nit you will pay more than it is worth. \n\nPart of your education, if you buy anything \nexcept photographs, will be to buy counterfeit \ncuriosities, and you need not be ashamed of it, \nfor they are made so well in these days as to \ndeceive the very elect. If you see a thing you \nwant in the window of a curiosity shop, go in \nand ask to be allowed to look at it, and if there \nare a lot of other things which seem to you \nattractive, buy some trifle for a franc or two, \nwhich will give you the freedom of the shop, \nso to speak, and you will be allowed to stay as \nlong as you choose and rummage for yourself. \nThe only rule I can give to beginners is that, \nif the price asked for an article is less than that \nfor which it could be made now, it is probably \ngenuine. For instance, if a small piece of deli- \ncately wrought (not cast) metal costs only a few \nfrancs, you may be pretty sure that you have \n\n\n\nITALY 213 \n\nsomething which is genuine, if not rare ; but \nwhen it comes to more important pieces, it is \nwell to have the judgment of some one who \nknows more than you do. In France, and I \nthink also in Italy, if you can get a dealer to \nwarrant anything on his bill as genuine, you \nmay be pretty sure it is so, for there is a heavy \npenalty against misrepresentation in such a case, \nand you should exact this warranty if you buy \nanything costly. The method of bargaining is \nsimple. You pick up carelessly the thing you \nwant and say, "How much is this?" The \ndealer names a price. You look surprised and \nsay, " That is too much," put it down, and \nmove away as if you did not really care for it. \nThe dealer will then offer it for somewhat less, \nwhereupon you smile indifferently and say, " No, \nthat is still too dear, I will give you so-and-so." \nThe dealer will then exclaim that that is less \nthan he paid for it, and that it would ruin him \nto let you have it for such a trifling sum. You \nlook polite, and intimate that in that case you \nwill not deprive him of it, and go toward the \ndoor. In nine cases out of ten he will call after \nyou a sum so near yours that you need not mind \nmeeting it, and he thinks all the better of you \nfor having understood how to deal with him. \n\n\n\n214 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nIf you have strength of mind enough to do it, \nyou may leave the shop and go away, trusting \nto find the dealer in a more moderate frame of \nmind the next time you pass, as you probably \nwill. You run the risk, however, if what you \nwant to buy is showy and attractive, that some \nrich fellow-countrywoman may pass between \nyour visits and carry it off. In Italy there is \nno law obliging a hall-mark to be put on gold \nor silver, but the purchaser may require it, \nand, if he does, the seller is bound to have the \nobject assayed and stamped, without charge. \n\nIt is well to have a bill for everything unless \nyou know the shop very well, as dealers occa- \nsionally come to one\'s hotel demanding payment \na second time when there is no record. A \nfavourite way of appearing to reduce a price is \nto offer to pack the article for you beautifully, \nso that it Avill travel anywhere, without extra \ncharge. Resist this offer, however, because as \na rule such packing is carelessly done, and \nyour piece of china or terra-cotta may arrive \nin minute fragments. Order it sent to your \nbanker, who will have it carefully packed for \nyou by a professional packer ; or else the pack- \ning will be done by the American Express \nCompany, which during the last ten years \n\n\n\nITALY 215 \n\nhas established offices in ahnost all the large \ncities of Europe, and you can arrange to have \nwhatever you buy forwarded by it either by \nexpress or as freight, the latter being much \nthe better way. If you buy a lot of terra- \ncotta pots and jars, for instance, they may \nbe packed with fine hay in a large barrel or \ncask, and sent out as freight to America, \neither while you are away or after you come \nhome, the express company paying all charges \nof transport and customs, and delivering them, \nwith the bill, at your house. They will also \nsend your luggage from one part of Europe to \nanother, and between large cities the service is \nexcellent ; but when they must deal with small \ncountry railways where any system of express \nor idea of haste is unknown, they are power- \nless against the local inertia. A parcel from \nParis to Rome, for instance, will often be deliv- \nered sooner then one which only has to go \nfrom Rome to Sorrento. \n\nIt is absurd to expect to know Rome even \ntolerably well in a short time, but as that is all \nthat most of us are able to give, some sug- \ngestions may be useful as to what is best \nworth seeing pretty thoroughly. It may be \nmost easily studied in a superficial way, \n\n\n\n216 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\neither archseologically, as a half -buried an- \ncient city, of which the most valuable part \nis distinctly traceable, or else as the modern \nactive centre of the Roman Catholic Church. \nThere is a vast amount of interesting material \nconnected with the Middle Ages, but it is hard \nto find, and harder still to understand. Strictly \nmodern Rome, as the capital of Italy, is rather \nless interesting than most modern capitals of \nsimilar type. Everything which belongs to \nancient times is easily accessible, and there are \nexcellent books, both archaeological and his- \ntorical, to be had at the Roman book-sellers\', \nby the aid of which a considerable knowledge \nof the subject may easily be acquired. \n\nThrough Signor Lanciani\'s works we may \ntrace the ancient city from its splendour to its \nfall, and Mr. Marion Crawford\'s "Ave Roma," \nwhich combines history with romance, is a valu- \nable companion in rambles about its old streets. \n\nIt is another matter to get at any true under- \nstanding of the ecclesiastical organization which \nextends from Rome to the ends of the world. \nIt is astonishing to find how few people who \nvisit St. Peter\'s and the Roman basilicas dur- \ning the great functions of Holy Week have \nany intelligent idea of what those ancient cere- \n\n\n\nITALY 217 \n\nmonies mean. Yet all of them have their origin \nin very remote times, and every detail of them \nis a part of an elaborate symbolism, which \nextends from the vestments of the priests to the \narchitecture of the churches themselves. There \nare books to explain these symbols, but few peo- \nple have the patience to read them, and by far \nthe best way, when you are in a church, if you \ncan speak any Italian, is to ask questions of the \nsacristan who is showing it to you, or of any \npriest who may be in sight. \n\nThey are always courteous, and it is easy to \ngain all the information one wishes, without \nentering into questions of religion, as they are \npleased by any interest that is shown, and it is \nonly necessary to seem gravely interested, avoid- \ning any appearance of levity while speaking \nof such matters. The sacristan of an Italian \nchurch is very often a delightful old person, \nloving every stone of his building, and knowing \nevery story connected with it, and in that case it \nis well worth while to talk to him, rather than to \nwander about by yourself .^ If you see a number \nof people on their knees, be careful not to pass \nbetween them and the altar, especially if a priest \n\n1 The following remarks apply not only to Kome, but to \nall Catholic churches in Europe. \n\n\n\n218 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nis officiating. Any altar on which the tabernacle \nis covered with a sort of hood of brocade, and \nbefore which lights are burning, is the one in \nthat particular church where the consecrated \nbread is deposited for the time being, and there \nare often many people kneeling in prayer before \nit. It is the presence of the Sacrament which \nCatholics desire visitors to respect, and when \nthere are no services going on, you may go up \nthe steps of any other altar, even the high one, \nexamine it, and speak in an ordinary tone, as \nyou would in any other part of the church. \nDuring the mass, it is at the moment of conse- \ncrating the bread and wine that a little bell is \nrung several times in succession, to give warn- \ning of the fact all over the church, and from \nthat moment many of those who are hearing \nmass remain on their knees until after the com- \nmunion. During that time, be especially care- \nful to be reverent in your manner and do not \npass between groups of worshippers. \n\nNon-Catholics are apt to be shocked at the \napparent indifference of Catholics in foreign \nchurches, especially in Italy; this is, however, \nless noticeable in Rome than elsewhere, perhaps \nbecause that city has been for so many centuries \nthe resort of devout persons from all parts of \n\n\n\nITALY 219 \n\nChristendom. In Italy churches have from very \nearly times been places of meeting or resort, \nwith the natural result that the place is treated \nless reverently than if it were only used at stated \ntimes for solemn services. \n\nThe great basilicas are open all day, but \nmany of the smaller and less visited churches \nare closed from noon until three, and a few are \nseldom open except on Sunday mornings. \n\nThe parish churches are open from early \nmorning till sunset, and their generally even \ntemperature attracts the poor in cold weather. \nYou should have some loose coppers handy when \nyou visit churches anywhere on the Continent, \nas there is usually a blind man, a cripple, or a \nvery old woman to lift for you the heavy leather \ncurtain which hangs over the door, and as it \nshines with the grease of generations of hands, \na penny or two is well bestowed on the poor \ncreature who saves you from touching it. \n\nThe ecclesiastical reckoning of the day goes \nthrough the twenty -four hours, beginning at the \nAve Maria bell, which rings half an hour after \nsunset, and is altered a quarter of an hour from \ntime to time, as the days lengthen. In Janu- \nary it rings at half-past five, but in July not \nuntil eight o\'clock. \n\n\n\n220 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nWith regard to seeing ceremonies not now \nperformed in public, or visiting places, like the \ngarden of the Vatican, which are the property \nof the Holy See, it is not growing any easier to \nobtain the necessary permits, and it is utterly \nuseless to trouble your embassy or consulate \nwith such requests. A personal introduction to \none of the Pope\'s chamberlains, of whom there \nare many, or to a prelate in his household, or to \nany ecclesiastic of high standing in Rome, will \nprocure the desired admission when possible. \n\nAs for attempting to obtain a private audi- \nence of the Pope, unless you have some very \ninfluential friend attached to the Vatican, it is \njust so much time thrown away. It is not very \neasy, either, to obtain a presentation at Court. \nThose who desire this privilege should always \nbegin by getting an introduction to their am- \nbassador, in order that in making their request \nthey may be personally known to him, for \nambassadors are not in any sense obliged to \npresent their countrymen at the Court to which \nthey are accredited. It is always an unusual \nprivilege, and should be asked for as such. \nShould it be obtained for you, inform yourself \nat once of the kind of dress you are expected to \nwear, which varies according to the time of day, \n\n\n\nITALY 221 \n\nand be careful to conform exactly to the instruc- \ntions given you by some one thoroughly familiar \nwith the etiquette. Under no circumstances can \nyou appear at Court in mourning ; whereas if \nyou should be received at the Vatican, or are \nadmitted to any of the high ceremonies in the \nSistine Chapel, or in St. Peter\'s, within the bar- \nrier of reserved seats, you must go entirely in \nblack, and wear a large black lace veil or mantilla \npinned to your hair and falling down behind, \ninstead of a hat or bonnet. Your gloves must \nalso be black, but a curious old tradition forbids \nmen to wear any gloves on such occasions. \nLadies, by the way, very generally wear black \nin the streets in Italy, and especially in \nchurches. \n\nRome was formerly considered a very un- \nhealthy city, but this is certainly not now the \ncase, as statistics show. Avoid it altogether, \nhowever, for the six weeks between the fifteenth \nof August to the first of October, when the first \nautumn showers are followed by sultry heat, \nand produce feverish emanations. At all \ntimes avoid stopping to talk, or sitting down \nin the shade after having been some time \nin the sun; avoid cold drinks when heated, \nunless you are going to take more exercise at \n\n\n\n222 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nonce ; and be careful not to check perspiration \nsuddenly. Never allow yourself to go too long \nwithout food ; the Romans eat more meat than \nany other people in Italy, and the climate \nrequires it. \n\nArrange your sight-seeing so that you may \nbe at your hotel in time for luncheon every day, \nand rest for at least half an hour after it. Take \nan extra cloak with you, and put it on when \nyou go into a gallery or church, especially in \nspring, when the outer air is much warmer \nthan that within. In Italy, as in all southern \ncountries, one goes out to get warm, and comes \nin to get cool. It is a good plan to drive to your \nsight, and walk back from it, as that will pre- \nvent any chilliness. Never allow yourself to feel \ncool at sunset, and never sit down or stand still \nto look at a view at that time. Be twice as \ncareful outside of Rome, on the Campagna, as \nin the city itself, for there lies your only real \nchance of danger, and do not eat overripe fruit, \nas that is more unhealthy than when it is green. \n\nOne of the traveller\'s first errands is usually \nto the post-office. In large Italian cities, the \nwindows of the Poste Restante, from which \nletters are distributed, are distinguished by \nletters of the alphabet. If you are expecting to \n\n\n\nITALY 223 \n\nfind letters there, present your visiting card at \nthe window corresponding to your initial letter, \nand say quietly, " Chi sono letter e ? " with no \nfurther explanation. Ordinary letters will be \ndelivered to you without question. You may, \nhowever, be given a yellow card notifying you \nof the arrival of a registered letter, which is \ndelivered from another window, marked " Rac- \ncomandate e Valore." It is hopeless to claim \nit unless you have with you a passport, a letter \nof credit, or some other official document bear- \ning your attested signature, or unless you are \naccompanied by a person known to the officials, \nand who will vouch for you. For this reason \nit is always better and simpler, when practi- \ncable, to have all your letters addressed to the \ncare of a banker. People often lose patience \nat the formalities required for identification in \nforeign post-offices, forgetting that precisely \nthe same proper precautions are taken at \nhome. \n\nIf you wish to register a letter, or book, \nwhich should always be done in Italy if the \ncontents are of the least value or importance, \nfind the window marked " Raccomandate, " \nwhich is rarely the same as that at which reg- \nistered letters are delivered. Letters to be \n\n\n\n224 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nregistered for the Continent are generally \nrequired to be sealed with wax with a recog- \nnizable device or initial ; letters which are to \ncross the ocean are not allowed, however, to be \nsealed with wax if registered, on account of the \nheat in the mail-rooms of transatlantic steamers. \nYou are not required to write your name \nand address on the envelope, but the clerk asks \nyou for them, enters them in a book, and gives \nyou a receipt. If you send a telegram, by the \nway, you will be asked by the clerk if you wish \na receipt, which, if you take it, costs one sou \nmore than the cost of the telegram. If you go \nto the office yourself, this is useless, but if you \nsend a despatch from the hotel, or by a mes- \nsenger, you should always require the latter to \nbring the receipt back with him, and if you use \nany language except Italian, print the words \nvery plainly, to avoid mistakes. \n^ There is no express as we understand it, but \nyou can send parcels of considerable size by \nwhat is called " pacco postale." To do this is a \ncomplicated matter, involving the filling out of \nelaborate printed forms, therefore it is better \nto have it done for you by the friendly \n" portier " of the hotel. If, however, you have \nto attend to it yourself, go to the window in \n\n\n\nITALTE 225 \n\nthe post-office marked " pacchi postali," and \nsay to the clerk, " Vorrei mandare questo pacco \npostale a Bologna," or whatever the place may \nbe. \n\nAs many people in Italy cannot read or \nwrite, the clerks are used to filling up the \nblanks for them, or, if you understand Italian, \nyou can manage it yourself. Your parcel must \nnot be sealed with wax when you bring it in, \nnor closed in such a manner that its contents \ncould not be examined if required. This is \nbecause it is forbidden to send tobacco tlirough \nthe mails, by any means whatever. As a mat- \nter of fact, your parcel is rarely opened, but is \nsealed before your eyes with wax and the offi- \ncial post-office stamp. \n\nShould you msh to insure a postal package, \nit must be sewn up in stout linen or cotton \ncloth, no matter what its size may be, and wax \nis daubed all along the seam, so that to open it \nwould be impossible. \n\nExcept in one or two large hotels, frequented \nby rich Americans, prices in Rome are lower \nthan in Paris, and arrangements to go "en pen- \nsion" easily made. If you mean to be some \ntime there, and have not been directed to an \nhotel, your best plan will be to stop at one near \n\n\n\n226 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nthe station over night, and sally out to see \nrooms and compare prices the next morning. \n\nTravellers may be broadly divided into two \nclasses, Romans and Florentines, that is, those \nwho distinctly prefer one city to the other. \nThis often seems to depend upon which of the \ntwo they have seen first, but it is also the \nresult of the radical difference between the two \ncities. Florence has practically one connected \npast which is of interest, from the beginning of \nthe thirteenth to the ending of tlie sixteenth \ncentury; whereas in Rome there have been half \na dozen periods of great historical value, cover- \ning altogether not less than two thousand years, \nand while you will not find in Rome such \nisolated objects of beauty as Giotto\'s Tower, or \nthe Strozzi Palace, the views of the city from \nthe Pincio or the Villa Corsini are incompara- \nbly beautiful. \n\nThe picture galleries in Florence are glorious, \nand have the great advantage of having all their \ntreasures collected practically under one roof ; \nwhile in Rome a great number of masterpieces \nare still scattered in private collections, and must \nbe visited separately, and on different days. \n\nFlorence seems much smaller than Rome, and \nis therefore to many people more homelike, and \n\n\n\nITALY 227 \n\nthe country around her, especially in early \nspring, when the fruit trees are in bloom, is \ncharming, but as she lies in a valley, in summer \nthe heat is sometimes very great. If you are \nonly there for a short time, after you have seen \nall you can of the galleries, drive to Fiesole and \nSan Miniato, and walk in the older narrow \nstreets of the city, which are some of them \nbeing torn down to make way for " modern im- \nprovements." \n\nIf three people have stayed for two weeks in \nRome or Florence, the following schedule of \ntips would be about right, in one of the quiet \nhotels to which I have referred throughout : \nthe " portier " should have ten francs, also the \nhead waiter ; the waiter of your sitting room, \nif you had one, five or ten (according to the \namount of trouble he has had) ; your dining \nroom waiter, ten to fifteen ; the chambermaid, \nten for all your rooms ; and the facchino, five, \nwhich includes bringing up and taking down \nthe luggage. \n\nThis is the division of labour in an Italian \nhotel, or, indeed, anywhere on the Continent: \nthe rule is that you ring once for the waiter, \ntwice for the chambermaid, and three times for \nthe porter. The waiter brings you your break- \n\n\n\n228 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nfast in the morning if you wish it in your room, \nas most people do, and, as it is not safe to drink \nwater indiscriminately, if you are used to iced \nwater at night, you should send for a bottle of \nsome kind of mineral water before you go to \nbed, and the waiter will bring you that. The \nchambermaid brings you hot water, your bath, \nand everything relating to the service of your \nrooms, and will brush your skirt if you wish it. \nThe porter, or " facchino," attends to your boots, \nwhich will be taken away by the chambermaid \nwhen she arranges your room in the evening ; \nhe also does any "odd jobs" which may be \nnecessary, such as having your trunks repaired, \nshoes and umbrellas mended, or anything of \nthat kind. He and another porter will carry \nup your boxes to your rooms and also take \nthem down when you go away, which you must \nnot forget in his tip. If you have only a \ncouple of trunks, a lira is enough for him, but \nif there are several pieces and they are heavy, \nit is not too much to give one when you come \nand one when you go, which, after all, makes \nonly twenty cents to each man. \n\nAvoid as much as you can stopping only one \nnight in places, if you wish to be economical, \nas that is always more expensive than a long \n\n\n\nITALY 229 \n\nstay on account of the tips. You can scarcely \nleave less than five francs behind you in gratui- \nties if you stop over night, which may be thus \ndivided : one franc to the " portier," one to \nyour chambermaid, one to the table d\'hote \nwaiter, one to your room waiter, and one to the \nfacchino. \n\nIf you stay more than two or three days in \nVenice, as you certainly will wish to do, you \nhad better engage a gondolier to be at your ser- \nvice during your stay. This is easy to do, as \nany of the men from the stands at the ferries \nwill gladly take such a place. The legal rate \nis five francs a day for a gondola and one man ; \nif you want another rower for long expeditions, \nhe is hired extra, and the gondolier expects a \nfranc or a franc and a half a day, " buonamano " \nor "pourboire." For this modest sum he will \nbe at your service from early in the morning \nuntil late at night, and will cheerfully tell you \nthe name of every church and palace as you pass \nthem. The Venetian gondolier is as simple and \nkindly a creature as the Roman or Florentine \ncabby, and we hear occasionally now from our \nlast one, whose name, literally translated, is \nChristmas Shoe. There is a tide in the Adri- \natic, although not in the Mediterranean, there- \n\n\n\n230 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nfore, when you go out in the morning, ask your \ngondolier, or the hotel "portier," if you do not \nspeak Italian, whether the tide is high or low, \nfor it rises and falls in Venice about two feet, \nand the smaller canals and water alleys, so to \nspeak, smell vilely at low water, especially in \nwarm weather. If the tide is low in the morn- \ning, it must be high in the afternoon, there- \nfore you should arrange your day so as to be in \nthe galleries or large churches during the low \nwater, and make exploring expeditions when \nthe canals are full. \n\nVenice is probably more infested than any \ncity in the world with touts, guides, and itiner- \nant vendors. If you stop for a moment under \nthe arcades which surround the square of St. \nMark\'s, to look into a shop window, unless it \nbelongs to one of the better class of jewellers or \nbook- sellers, its proprietor will promptly emerge \nfrom within and implore you in oily English to \ncome and see how much better and cheaper his \ngoods are than those you will find anywhere \nelse. If you hesitate, you are lost, and will \ncertainly end by getting something you do not \nwant, at five times its value. Look steadily \nand stolidly in front of you as if you were stone \ndeaf. This has a disheartening effect, and he \n\n\n\nITALY 231 \n\nwill probably retreat. The guides who wish to \nshow you St. Mark\'s Church pursue you within \nits very doors, and the gentlest tourist must \nresort to a fierce shake of the finger and an \nenergetic "Ya via! " (get out). Your gondo- \nlier will always be willing to leave his boat \nwhen you alight, and will go with you into any \nchurch that you wish to see ; he may or may \nnot know much about that particular place \n(although an Italian is intensely proud of his \nnative city and apt to know a good deal about \nits historic monuments), but in any case he \nwill be useful as a body-guard to keep off the \nswarms of guides and beggars, and he will do \nso with an eloquence of vituperation which you \ncould never hope to equal. \n\nInto the museums and picture galleries the \nstreet guides dare not follow you, but there it \nbecomes a question as to whether or not it is \nwise to ask questions of the " custodi " who are \nin charge of the different rooms. If you do not \nwish to take the trouble of poring over a cata- \nlogue, they are sometimes of use, as they natu- \nrally know every object in the place where \nthey spend their lives ; but, on the other hand, \nthey may be terrible nuisances. To walk \nthrough a picture gallery with a half-educated \n\n\n\n232 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nman at yonr elbow, giving you volubly inaccu- \nrate information about the paintings or draw- \nings, is trying ; but, on the other hand, in small \nlocal museums where all sorts of things are col- \nlected, a friendly guardian will call your atten- \ntion to something you would certainly have \noverlooked by yourself. After all, it comes \ndown largely to a question of temperament. \nSome people are exasperated by that sort of \ninterference, but others are so anxious to learn \neverything they can that they accept it without \nbeing annoyed. Some member of a party \nusually seems to be marked out by nature for the \nattentions of these guardians, for one will im- \nmediately fasten himself upon her and dog her \nsteps, while her companions go free, and prob- \nably jeer at her from a distance. \n\nMany of the smaller Italian cities may be \nseen in a few hours, without sleeping in them, \nif they are taken on the way between two \nlarger ones, for in Italy, as in England, it is \nalmost impossible to go twenty miles without \nfinding some place at which you want to \nstop. \n\nSuppose you leave a large city at eight or \nnine o\'clock in the morning, sending your \nluggage through to the other large town at \n\n\n\nITALY 233 \n\nwhich you mean to sleep. You reach the small \nplace in an hour or two, before it is time \nfor the midday breakfast, and get out at the \nstation. \n\nAs you appear, a few cabbies drowsing in the \nsun will suddenly wake up and come franti- \ncally toward you. Choose the one who has the \nbest horse and cleanest cab, tell him that you \nwill take him by the hour, \xe2\x80\x94 a piece of extrava- \ngance which in most small towns will cost you \ntwenty-five cents, \xe2\x80\x94 and, having found out be- \nforehand in Baedeker which is the best hotel, go \nthere first. Say that you will be back for the \ntable d\'hote breakfast, and leave any parcels or \nwraps which you do not want. \n\nIf you are not quite sure just what you want \nto see, go first to the best local bookseller, buy \na guide of the place, and also ask to look over \nhis album of local photographs. Then, if you \nsee anything striking, you can ask about it, and \neither buy your photographs then or after you \nhave seen the original. Let me advise you \nnever to throw away your photographs of \nplaces, because they become more valuable with \ntime. I once cleared out a great many photo- \ngraphs of Rome which were taken thirty \nyears ago, and have regretted it ever since ; \n\n\n\n234 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nas the city lias greatly changed, the comparison \nwith modern ones would have been extremely \ninteresting. \n\nGo to see the churches and museums as early \nas possible, for they are sometimes closed in the \nafternoon. When you get back to the hotel \nto have your breakfast you may tell your cabby \nthat you will take him again at such a time in \nthe afternoon, and he will be only too delighted \nto return. \n\nAfter luncheon take a little drive around the \ntown, which will not only rest you but give you \na distinct impression of it ; then go on with your \nsight-seeing if you choose, and get to the station \nin good time to pick up the through train for \nyour destination, You will often find some \ndifficulty in getting seats together in these \ntrains which you tap at small stations, but that \nis a small drawback compared to the pleasure \nyou will have had in your day. \n\nIf you wish to stop at a town for a few hours, \nyou may find that you will reach it at one o\'clock \nor half past, in which case it is a great saving \nof time to have your luncheon in the train, so \nthat when you arrive you may have your whole \ntime free, and for a small charge you may have \nyour hand luggage in the " deposito," or parcel- \n\n\n\nITALY 235 \n\nroom, of the station, and collect it when you \ntake your train. \n\nYou cannot travel on the Continent without \ntaking the church holidays into consideration, \nand it is worth while to buy a calendar and \nkeep account of them, as in Catholic countries \nthey make a great difference. \n\nMany cities have their patron saints, whose \nfeast days are elaborately observed. The 25th of \nApril is Saint Mark\'s Day, as I shall always re- \nmember now, because once we were so stupid as \nto get to Venice the day after, when we might \njust as well have been there the day before. \n\nThe feast of the Redentore, or Redeemer, \nwhich comes on the 17th of July, is also inter- \nesting at Venice, as there is a bridge of boats, \nand the gondoliers have races in which the men \nfrom the different quarters of the city show \ngreat rivalry. \n\nThere is also a very curious ceremony outside \nthe Cathedral of Florence on Easter Eve \xe2\x80\x94 but \nthe list of these celebrations is almost endless, \nand you must try to learn about them as you \ngo along. All great festivals are close holidays \nso far as business is concerned ; so do not let \nyourself run short of money, as no banker\'s will \nbe open. \n\n\n\n236 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nIf one of your party should be taken ill any- \nwhere, ask the " portier " who are the American \nor English physicians in the place, and decide \nupon one of them. If there are no foreign \npractitioners, do not trust to the advice of \nthe hotel keeper as to your choice, because, \nalthough in nine cases out of ten he would \nprobably tell you the best man, if, on the tenth, \nhis own brother should be in the profession, as \nmight well happen, the temptation to recom- \nmend him would perhaps be too strong. Go \nat once to the American or English consul for \nadvice, and if there is none, go to the largest \nlocal hospital, ask who is the best doctor, and \nsend for him. If you are in any doubt as to \nthe nature of the ailment, beg him to tell you \nat once whether it is anything contagious, and \nif it should be, ask him what you are to do. \nIf he is a reputable practitioner he will save \nyou much trouble, and as a rule there are more \ngood people than knaves in the world, and not \nmany men of decent standing will deliberately \ntake advantage of women if they are put upon \ntheir honour. But I am bound to warn you \nthat I have heard very grim tales of hardship \nand extortion in just such cases of contagious \ndisease, where the physician was more than \n\n\n\nITALY 237 \n\nsupposed to have been in league with the \nhotel keeper. If you have any reason to think \nthat you have fallen on any such evil case, you \nhad better send for the " sindaco " or " maire," \nwho is the highest local authority, or go to his \noffice, and state your case to him. \n\nObey any regulation which may be imposed \non you, and do not be unreasonable, for you \nmust remember that it is a very serious thing \nfor a hotel keeper to have a case of contagious \ndisease in his house, and one against which he \nhas a right to protect himself and his other \nlodgers. \n\nIn case of death, the mayor, or your banker, \nif you know no one else, can always at least tell \nyou of a reputable undertaker, and also with \nwhich forms you are expected to comply. \n\nHaving given this warning, I think it only \nfair to say that, although my different visits \nto Europe cover now a period of more than \nthirty years, I have never personally met any \ninstance in an hotel of anything but cordial \nsympathy and cheerful service in a case of \nillness. \n\nMany women who Avould like to go to Sicily \nare deterred because they think the travelling \nis likely to be rough, and that there is still \n\n\n\n238 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\ndanger of brigands. Both these ideas are erro- \nneous, at least as regards any place where you \nare likely to want to go. In the country back \nof Etna there are brigands still, plenty of them, \nnotwithstanding the assurances of the hotel \nkeepers near the coast that brigandage is quite \nextinct ; but supposing that you wish to get a \ngeneral idea of the island, you can do so quite \nwell without leaving the line of railway except \nfor a very short distance, and railways are as \ndiscouraging to brigands as running water to \nwitches. \n\nAs to the best time for your visit, the ideal \nseason is, of course, in March or early April, \nwhen everything is in the glory of the southern \nspring, but any time after the 1st of January \nis delightful. November and December are \noften wet, but after the first of the year the \nclimate is fresh, yet never with any approach \nto frost, and it is distinctly warm in the sun. \nThe hotels are good, and the people compare \nfavourably with those on the mainland ; they \nare dignified, sometimes almost taciturn, and \noften very handsome. \n\nIt may be that in twenty or thirty years the \nisland may be as overrun by tourists as central \nItaly is now, but for the present it is not, and \n\n\n\nITALY 239 \n\nit is full of interest and charm. The dialect \nis almost unintelligible to strangers, but nearly \nall the peasants can speak a little " high Ital- \nian," which they do very clearly. \n\nSteamers of the " Navigazione Generale Sici- \nliana" leave Naples every evening about eight \no\'clock, getting to Palermo at half-past seven \nthe next morning. Find out before you go \nwhich boat is the best, as there is usually a \nchoice, and if you can get a card of introduc- \ntion from your banker at Naples, or your hotel \nkeeper, to the office of the steamship company, \nit will be an advantage, because the cabins are \nvery much crowded with berths, and in order \nto be at all comfortable two people must take a \ncabin meant nominally for four, but with the \nhelp of a little influence you will probably not \nhave to pay for more than two places. \n\nYou may dine comfortably at Naples before \nyou go, and breakfast at Palermo next morning. \nThe crossing is a lottery. In fine weather it is \nquite smooth, but there is often a queer little \ntwisting sea which makes a disagreeable motion, \nsomething like that of the English Channel. \nAlthough the steamers are not large, they do \nnot go up to the dock at Palermo, and you are \nlanded in open boats as at Naples. There is a \n\n\n\n240 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\ncustom-house there through which you must \npass, although you are still in Italy, but it is \nnot annoying. \n\nThe guide-books all unite as to the best hotel \nin Palermo, which is the one, by the way, in \nwhich Richard Wagner died, and its proprietor \nhas relatives who keep most of the other hotels \nin the towns to which you will be likely to go \nduring your trip. \n\nA month or six weeks is certainly not too long \nfor anything like a satisfying visit to Sicily ; \nbut, on the other hand, if you can only give it \na fortnight, you will come away with a very \ndistinct impression, and, unless you have very \nbad luck, exceedingly pleasant memories. \n\nIf you are there in early spring you will have \nthe glory of the fruit blossoms, but, as you can- \nnot have everything, the orange season will be \nover ; if, however, your visit is during mid- \nwinter, their season will be at its height, and no- \nbody who has not been where they grow knows \nhow good the mandarin orange can be when it \nis eaten warm off its bough. \n\nThere is a dealer in Palermo who advertises \nin all the hotels, and he will send boxes of man- \ndarins, prepaid, for a very few francs, to any \naddress in France, Germany, Italy, or England, \n\n\n\nITALY 241 \n\nwhich is a very easy way of giving pleasure to \nfriends who have been kind to one. \n\nOne thing is worth remembering in Sicily. \nIf you want to get any money, allow yourself \nplenty of time. Over the door of any banking \nhouse on the island should be inscribed, " Who \nenters here leaves haste behind." You are \ntreated with the utmost courtesy, but their \nmethods are deliberate. After you have given \nup your letter of credit, you wait and wait until \nyou feel as if they must have had time enough \nto send it back to London or Paris ; then, after \nyou have signed the slip of paper, you wait \nagain for another age until your money comes. \nIn one town it took me exactly one hour \nand twenty minutes to get a few hundred \nlire. \n\nIf you are short of time, in a week you can see \nPalermo and its environs fairly well, although \nthere are many expeditions which would take \nyou longer. That to the ruins of the temple \nof Segesta is one of the most interesting, but to \nmake it involves a very hard day\'s work, as you \nmust leave the railway station at Palermo at a \nquarter before six in the morning and will not \nget back until a quarter before nine at night ; \nthe alternative being to sleep at a small village \n\n\n\n242 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\na few miles from the temple, which is not \nrecommended. \n\nIn a fortnight you can easily make the fol- \nlowing trip: from Palermo to Girgenti, it is \nseven hours by rail, and you will want to stay \nabout two days ; from Girgenti to Catania is \nabout the same time, and one day is enough for \nthere ; from Catania to Syracuse is about three \nhours, and there you will want several days ; \nfrom Syracuse you go to Taormina (passing \nthrough Catania again) in five hours, and if you \nhave good weather you will probably want to \nstay there as long as you can, for it is an en- \nchantingly beautiful place. Taormina is only \ntwo hours from Messina, which has no good \nhotel, so you can leave the former place in the \nmorning, and see the sights of Messina in a few \nhours. A little boat leaves there every after- \nnoon at half-past five which crosses to Reggio, \non the Calabrian mainland, in three quarters \nof an hour, and connects with the through \nnight train for Rome, which has sleeping-cars \nmodelled on ours. You may take your tickets \nin Messina, and if you wish to rush straight \nthrough, you will be in Rome by three o\'clock \nnext day ; but you will be wiser to break the \njourney at La Cava or Naples, and if you \n\n\n\nITALY 243 \n\nstop at La Cava you can easily go to Psestum, \nand will then have seen all the finest classic \nruins outside of Greece. \n\n\n\nSOME BOOKS ABOUT ITALY \n\nA star (*) means that a book is of portable size, and useful \nfor local reference. \n\nT. means that it is published in the Tauchnitz edition. \n\nDer Cicerone, J. Burckhardt. \n\nThe Renaissance of Art in Italy (2 vols.), Mrs. Mark \n\nPattison. Macraillan. \nRenaissance Fancies and Studies, Vernon Lee. Putnam. \nStudies of Travel in Italy, E. A. Freeman. Putnam. \nItalian Popular Tales, F. T. F. Crane. Macmillan. \nItalian Journeys, W. D. Howells. Houghton & Mifflin. \nNotes of Travel and Study in Italy, Charles Eliot \n\nNorton. Houghton & Mifflin. \nItalian Byways, J. A. Symonds. Smith & Elder. \nNorth Italian Folk, Mrs. Comyn Carr. Chatto & Windus. \nThe Architecture of the Renaissance in Italy. Wm. J. \n\nAnderson. Scribner. \nHistory of Painting, L. Lanzi. (Bohn library, 3 vols.) \n\nMacmillan. \n*Early Italian Painters, Mrs. Jameson. \nSketches and Studies in Italy by J. A. Symonds: The \n\nRenaissance in Italy ; Age of the Despots ; Revival \n\nof Learning; The Fine Arts. Scribner. \nStudies of the Eighteenth Century in Italy, Yernon \n\nLee. \nDiary of an Idle Woman in Italy, Mrs. Elliot. T. \nVenetian Life, W. D. Howells. T. \n\n\n\n244 EUEOPEAN travp:l for women \n\nVenice, an Historical Sketch, Horatio Brown. Putnam. \n\nLife on the Lagoons, Horatio Brown. Putnam, \n\nLa Peinture en Europe ; Venise. Lafenestre & Richten- \n\nberger. (Also in English. Scribner.) \nThe Makers of Venice, Mrs. Oliphant. Macmillan. \nVenetian Painters of the Renaissance, B. Berenson. \n\nPutnam. \nVenise, Ch. Yriarte. \n\nThe Stones of Venice, Ruskin. George Allen. \n*St. Mark\'s Rest, Ruskin. George Allen. \nVenice, Alethaea Wiel. Putnam. \n*Walks in Florence: Churches, Streets, and Palaces, \n\nS. and J. Horner. King. \n*Mornings in Florence, Ruskin. George Allen. \nThe Makers of Florence, Mrs. Oliphant. Macmillan. \nFlorentine Painters of the Renaissance, B. Berenson. \n\nPutnam. \nLa Peinture en Europe ; Florence. Lafenestre & Richt- \n\nenberger. (Also in English.) Scribner. \nTuscan Cities, W. D. Howells. T. \nItalian Painters, G. Morelli (2 vols.). Murray. \nHistoire de I\'Art Pendant la Renaissance, Italic (3 vols.), \n\nE. Miintz. \nLeonard da Vinci, E. Miintz. \nTuscan Republics, Bella Duffy. Putnam. \nThe Story of Perugia, M. Symonds and L. Duff Gordon. \n\nMacmillan. \n*Roman History, Dr. Julius Koch. Macmillan. \nPagan and Christian Rome, R. Lanciani. Houghton & \n\nMifflin. \nRuins and Excavations of Ancient Rome, R. Lanciani. \n\nHoughton & Mifflin. \n*Destruction of Ancient Rome, R. Lanciani. Macmillan. \nManual of Roman Antiquities, Ramsay and Lanciani. \n\nMacmillan. \n\n\n\nITALY 245 \n\nHandbook to Christian and Ecclesiastical Rome, H. M. \n\nand M. A. R. T. Adam Black. \n*Part I. The Christian Monuments. Part II. The \nLiturgy. Part III. Monasticism in Rome. Part \nIV. Ecclesiastical Rome. \nMusees de Rome, Plelbig. Baedeker. \nRome of To-day and Yesterday, J. T. Dennie. Putnam. \nThe Makers of Modern Rome, Mrs. Oliphant. Macmillan. \n*Ave Roma Immortalis, Studies from the Chronicles of \n\nRome, F. Marion Crawford. Macmillan. \nRoba di Roma (2 vols.), W. W. Story. Chapman & \n\nHall. \nThe Tragedy of the Caesars, S. Baring Gould. Scribner. \nPromenades dans Rome, De Stendhal. \nRome, Arthur Gilman. Putnam. \nPilgrimage of the Tiber, W. Davies. Sampson Low. \n*Promenades Archeologiques, Rome et Pompeii. G. \n\nG. Boissier. (Also in English.) Putnam. \n* Walks in Rome, Augustus J. C. Hare. Macmillan. \n*Days near Rome, Augustus J. C. Hare. Macmillan. \nPompeii, Its Life and Art, A. Mau. Macmillan. \n*Cities of Southern Italy and Sicily, Augustus J. C. Hare. \nWander j ah re in Italien (4 vols.), F. Gregorovius. \nDie Insel Capri, F. Gregorovious. \nPicturesque Sicily, W. A. Paton. Harper. \nDiary of an Idle Woman in Sicily, Mrs. Elliot. T. \nPictures from Sicily, W. N. Bartlett. T. Nelson & Sons. \nSicily, E. A. Freeman. Putnam. \nNaples in the Nineties, E. Neville-Rolfe. Macmillan. \nStories of Naples and the Camorra, Charles Grant. \n\nMacmillan. \nModern Italy, Pietro Orsi. Putnam. \n\n\n\n246 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\nA FEW NOVELS \n\nFirst Century \n\nThe Gladiators Whyte Melville. T. \n\nQuo Vadis H. Sienkiewicz. T. \n\nThe Burning of Rome A. J. Church. \n\nLast Days of Pompeii Bulwer Lytton. T. \n\nSecond Century \nValerius J. G. Lockhart. \n\nThird Century \nCallista Cardinal Newman. T. \n\nFourth Century \nHomo Sum Georg Ebers. \n\nFifth Century \nFabiola Cardinal Wiseman. \n\nSixth Century \n\nAntonina, or the Fall of Rome . Wilkie Collins. T. \n\nBelisaire J. F. Marmontel. \n\nEin Kampf um Rom Felix Dahn. \n\nFourteenth Century \n\nMarco Visconti (also in English) . . Tommaso Grossi. \nRienzi Bulwer Lytton. T. \n\nFifteenth Century \n\nEttore Fieramosca (also in English) Massimo d\' Azeglio. \n\nKomola George Eliot. T. \n\nIsabella Orsini (also in English) . Francesco Guerrazzi. \n\n\n\nITALY 247 \n\nSixteenth Century \nBeatrice Cenci (also in English) . Francesco Guerrazzi. \n\nCatherine de\' Medici T. A. Trollope. \n\nDie Schlacht von Marignano . . Karl von Witzleben. \n\nSeventeenth Century \nI Promessi Sposi (also in English) . Alessandro Manzoni \n\nNineteenth Century \n\nDoctor Antonio Giovanni Ruffini. T. \n\nMademoiselli Mori (Rome) . . Margaret Roberts. T. \n\nA Roman Singer F. Marion Crawford. T. \n\nPascarel (Florence) Ouida. T. \n\nA Foregone Conclusion (Venice) . W. D. Howells. T. \nTransformation (The Marble Faun) \n\nNathaniel Hawthorne. T. \nAdam Johnstone\'s Son (Amalfi) \n\nF. Marion Crawford. T. \n\nChildren of the King (Sorrento) F. Marion Crawford. T. \n\nIn Maremma (Tuscany) Ouida. T. \n\n\n\nSOME TERMS USED DIFFERENTLY IN AMERICA \nAND IN ENGLAND \n\n\n\nAmerican \n\n\nEnglish \n\n\nBaggage. \n\n\nLuggage. \n\n\nBaggage car. \n\n\nLuggage van. \n\n\nCar (railroad). \n\n\nCarriage. \n\n\nCars. \n\n\nTrain. \n\n\nConductor. \n\n\nGuard. \n\n\nDepot. \n\n\nStation. \n\n\nEngineer. \n\n\nEngine driver. \n\n\nFreight train. \n\n\nGoods train. \n\n\nLocomotive. \n\n\nEngine. \n\n\nOn board a train. \n\n\nIn a train. \n\n\nRailroad. \n\n\nRailway. \n\n\nRails. \n\n\nMetals. \n\n\nSide-track. \n\n\nSiding. \n\n\nSwitchman. \n\n\nPointsman. \n\n\nThe railroad track. \n\n\nThe line. \n\n\nTicket office. \n\n\nBooking oflBce. \n\n\nTies. \n\n\nSleepers. \n\n\nTo switch. \n\n\nTo shunt. \n\n\nWay or accommodation train. \n\n\nSlow or Parliamentary train. \n\n\nAlcohol. \n\n\nSpirits of wine. \n\n\nBedspread. \n\n\nCounterpane, coverlet. \n\n\nBoard fence. \n\n\nHoarding. \n\n\nBowl. \n\n\nBasin. \n\n\nBug. \n\n\nBed-bug only. \n\n\nBureau. \n\n\nChest of drawers. \n\n\nParlour. \n\n\nDrawing-room. \n\n\n\n249 \n\n\n\n250 \n\n\n\nEUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\n\n\nPiazza. \nPitcher \n\nWindow-shade. \nYard (ground in front of \nhouse). \n\nCalico. \n\nHardware. \n\nMuslin. \n\nNotions. \n\nDry goods. \n\nStore. \n\nSpool (of cotton). \n\nDruggist, apothecary. \n\nDrummer. \n\nLawyer. \n\n\n\nVeranda. \nJug, ewer. \nBlind. \nGarden, lawn. \n\n\n\nPrint. \nIronmongery. \n\nCotton cloth. \n\nHaberdashery. \n\nDrapery. \n\nShop. \n\nReel. \n\nChemist. \n\nCommercial traveller. \n\nSolicitor, barrister. \n\n\n\nCheck-rein. \nHack, hackman. \nHorse-car. \nLines. \n\nSpan (of horses). \nStage (a vehicle) . \nWaggon (except \nwork). \n\n\n\nfor heavy \n\n\n\nChickens (when full grown). \n\nCorn. \n\nCracker. \n\nHash. \n\nPie. \n\n\n\nRare (in cooking). \n\n\n\nBearing-rein. \n\nCab, cabby. \n\nTram. \n\nReins. \n\nA pair. \n\nOmnibus. \n\nCarriage, cart, trap. \n\nHens, fowls. \n\nIndian corn, maize. i \n\nBiscuit. \n\nMince. \n\nGenerally used for meat pies, \nor cherry or apple. A pie \nmust have a covered top \nof pastry \xe2\x80\x94 most fruit pies \nare called tarts. \n\nUnderdone. \n\n\n\n1 The word " corn " in England usually means wheat. \n\n\n\nEUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\n\n\n251 \n\n\n\nDessert. \n\n\nOnly fruit, nuts, etc. \n\n\nDining-room (inliotels). \n\n\nCoffee-room. \n\n\nLunch. \n\n\nLuncheon, used only for a \n\n\n\n\nmeal in the middle of the \n\n\n\n\nday. \n\n\nA reception. \n\n\nAn "At Home." \n\n\nCorsets. \n\n\nStays. \n\n\nDerby (hat). \n\n\nBilly-cock, pot hat. \n\n\nDress. \n\n\nFrock or gown (frock for day \n\n\n\n\ntime, gown for evening). \n\n\nFleshy. \n\n\nStout, fat. \n\n\nPrince Albert coat. \n\n\nFrock coat. \n\n\nShirt-waist. \n\n\nBlouse. \n\n\nSacque. \n\n\nJacket. \n\n\nSilk hat. \n\n\nTall hat. \n\n\nTo rip. \n\n\nTo unpick. \n\n\nVest. \n\n\nWaistcoat. \n\n\nWaist (of a gown). \n\n\nBodice, body. \n\n\nChambermaid (except in \n\n\nHousemaid. \n\n\nhotels) . \n\n\n\n\nLaundress. \n\n\nWasherwoman. \n\n\nSecond man. \n\n\nFootman. \n\n\nScrubwoman. \n\n\nCharwoman. \n\n\nWaiter (except in hotels). \n\n\nButler. \n\n\nWaitress. \n\n\nParlourmaid. \n\n\nBack of (as of a house). \n\n\nBehind. \n\n\nBalance (of time, etc.). \n\n\nRemainder. \n\n\nCane. \n\n\nWalking-stick. \n\n\nCheck. \n\n\nCheque. \n\n\nDirt (garden mould). \n\n\nEarth, soil. \n\n\nEditorial. \n\n\nLeader. \n\n\nElevator. \n\n\nLift. \n\n\n\n252 \n\n\n\nEUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\n\n\nGripsack. \n\n\nTravelling-bag. \n\n\nKerosene. \n\n\nParaffin. \n\n\nLot (of land). \n\n\nPlot. \n\n\nLumber. \n\n\nTimber. \n\n\nMat (of a photograph). \n\n\nMount. \n\n\nMucilage. \n\n\nLiquid gum, gum. \n\n\nPropeller. \n\n\nScrew. \n\n\nRock. \n\n\nOnly a very large stone, \n\n\n\n\nboulder. \n\n\nRooster. \n\n\nCock. \n\n\nRubbers, arctics. \n\n\nOvershoes, goloshes. \n\n\nSide-wheel. \n\n\nPaddle. \n\n\nSmoke-stack. \n\n\nFunnel. \n\n\nSorrel (horse). \n\n\nChestnut. \n\n\nTelegraph blank. \n\n\nTelegraph form. \n\n\nVine. \n\n\nGrape-vine only. Other \n\n\n\n\ncreeping plants are " creep- \n\n\n\n\ners." \n\n\nGuess. \n\n\nOnly used as for guessing \n\n\n\n\nriddles or puzzles; never \n\n\n\n\nas "I suppose." \n\n\nFix. \n\n\nArrange, settle, see to. \n\n\nTo hunt. \n\n\nOnly riding to hounds \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n\n\n\nnever shooting. \n\n\nMad. \n\n\nAngry. \n\n\nRight away. \n\n\nDirectly. \n\n\nShortage. \n\n\nDeficiency. \n\n\nSick (except for nausea). \n\n\n111. \n\n\nTo mail. \n\n\nTo post. \n\n\nTo presume. \n\n\nTo suppose, surmise. \n\n\nTo ride. \n\n\nUsed only for riding a \n\n\n\n\nbicycle or on an animal. \n\n\nTo run a business. \n\n\nTo manage, carry on. \n\n\nTo ship. \n\n\nTo send by land as well as \n\n\n\n\nby sea. \n\n\nWilt. \n\n\nWither, fade. \n\n\n\nEUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\n\n\n253 \n\n\n\nFRENCH WORDS SOMETIMES MISTRANSLATED i \n\n\n\nAgr\xc2\xa7ment. Pleasure, enjoyment. Never an agreement \n\nin the English sense. \n\nAmusant. Interesting. Often wrongly translated \n\namusing. \n\nAnimaL Not necessarily a quadruped. Birds, rep- \n\ntiles, etc., are " des animaux " in French. \n\nApologie. A vindication, a justification of one\'s acts. \n\nIt never means an apology in the modern \nEnglish sense. \n\nAppointement. The salary of an employ^. Never a ren- \ndezvous or engagement. \n\nAssister. Means to be present at, as well as to help. \n\nAvis. Not advice, but opinion. Also a public \n\nnotice or warning, or the prefatory \nnote to a book. \n\nBraye. Honest, worthy, good-hearted. Not neces- \n\nsarily courageous. \n\nBureau. An office for the transaction of business. \n\nNever a chest of drawers. \n\nCaution. A bail bond. Never used to signify cir- \n\ncumspection or foresight. \n\nCit6. Not a city as we understand the word, but \n\nsome central part of a town, originally \nfortified. The "City" of London is \nused in the French sense. It also \noften means a large court with houses \naround it. \n\nControle. A record or verification. The verb "con- \n\ntrSler " means to verify a cheque or \nrecord. \n\niMost of these definitions were made by Mr. i^\'rederick Keppel. \n\n\n\n254 \n\n\n\nEUROPEAN TPwAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\n\n\nCourtier. A broker, not a frequenter of royalty. The \n\nlatter is "un courtisan." \n\nDefense. A formal interdiction or prohibition. Rarely \n\nthe defending of anything. \n\nDefiance. Suspicion. \n\nDefiant. Suspicious. \n\nDocument. Any record. A sketch for some detail of a \npicture is a "document." \n\nEditeur. A publisher. Never an editor in the English \n\nsense. The French word for the latter is \n*\' rMacteur." \n\nEnerv6. Nervous, not enervated. \n\nHommage. Often used to characterize any gift or present \ngiven to an equal. It has no suggestion \nof lord and yassal, as homage has in \nEnglish. \n\nJuste. Not so much just as scanty, barely sufficient. \n\nIt is also the term to describe music which \nis in tune. \n\nLarge. Broad only, not big in general. \n\nLecture. The art of reading. Never a lecture in the \n\nEnglish sense. The latter is "una con- \nference." \n\nManiaque. Not an insane person, but one who is un- \nreasonably particular and crotchety. \n\nMignonette. Pepper ground coarse ; also a very fine kind \nof lace. The flower is in French called \n"r^s^da." \n\nMisdre. Extreme poverty only. The word does not \n\ndescribe other sorts of misery. \n\nMonument Any notable edifice. A cathedral, palace, or \nfine bridge is a "monument." \n\nOffice. (As a masculine noun.) A religious cere- \n\nmony. Never a place for the transaction \nof business. \n\nOffice. As a feminine noun.) A room to contain \n\ntable utensils and eatables, a pantry. \n\n\n\nEUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\n\n\n255 \n\n\n\nParent. Any blood relation. In France a second \n\ncousin is a "parent" as much as a \n\nfather or mother. \nPartition. A full musical score with all the parts. \n\nNever a slight division between two \n\nspaces. \nPr6tendre. To assert formally. To claim as a right. \n\nIt never means to simulate. \nRomance. A short song set to music. Never a work \n\nof fiction. \nSauvage. (As an adjective.) Not savage, but simply \n\nwild, shy, unsociable. Any animal or \n\nplant in its wild state is *\' sauvage." \nSinistre. (As a noun. ) A great disaster, such as a \n\nconflagration or an explosion. The \n\nword has no suggestion of wickedness. \nSpirituel. (As an adjective.) Witty, intellectually \n\ndelicate and expert. It can rarely be \n\ntranslated spiritual. \nVacation. The time occupied by some public function. \n\nIt never means a holiday. \nVilain. (Adjective.) Ugly, unsightly. There is no \n\nsuggestion of villany. \n\n\n\n256 \n\n\n\nEUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\n\n\nCOMPARISON OF RifeAUMUR, \nFAHRENHEIT AND CENTI- \nGRADE THERMOMETERS \n\nI. To reduce Reaumur degrees to \nFahrenheit, \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n1. Multiply the number of Reaumur \ndegrees by 9. \n\n2. Divide the product by 4. \n\n3. Add 32\xc2\xb0. \n\nThe result is the corresponding num- \nber of Fahrenheit degrees. \n\nExample. \xe2\x80\x94 The Reaumur ther- \nmometer reads 8\xc2\xb0. \n\n8 X 9 = 72 ; ^ = 18 ; 18 + 32 = 60. \n4 \n\nThat is, 8\xc2\xb0 R. = 50\xc2\xb0 F. \n\nII. To reduce Centigrade degrees to \nFahrenheit, \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n1. Multiply the number of Centigrade \ndegrees by 9. \n\n2. Divide the product by 5. \n\n3. Add 32\xc2\xb0. \n\nThe result is the corresponding num- \nber of Fahrenheit degrees. \n\n\n\nExample. \xe2\x80\x94 The Centigrade ther- \nmometer reads 10\xc2\xb0. \n\n9 X 10 = 90 ; \'^ = 18 ; 18 + 32 = 50. \nThat is, 10\xc2\xb0 C. = 50\xc2\xb0 F. \n\n\n\nEUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN 257 \n\n\n\nMEASURES \n\n\n\nContinental \n\n\n\nAmerican \n\n\n\n1 metre \n\n1 centimetre \n\n\n\n39 inches \n\nrather less than \n\nhalf an inch \nf of a mile, so that, \n\nroughly speaking, \n\n2 kilometres are \n\nl\\ miles \n\nI trifle over 2 \n\npounds \n\nThe "metre" and "gramme" are \nrarely added, being supposed to be \nunderstood. If you are told that a \nplace is "5 kilos away" you may \nknow it is about 3 miles \xe2\x80\x94 if you \nwant to buy a pound of fruit, you \nask for ** un demi-kilo." \n\n\n\n1 kilometre = \n\n\n\n1 kilogramme = j \n\n\n\nCENTIMETRES INCHES \n\n\n\n258 EUROPEAN TRAVEL FOR WOMEN \n\n\n\nFOREIGN PRONUNCIATION \n\nIn French no syllable of a word is strongly accented; \nthe accents modify the pronunciation of the vowel over \nwhich they are placed. \n\nThe general rule in Italian is that the accent comes on \nthe syllable before the last, and remains there, even if a pro- \nnoun is affixed; for instance, "eat" is "mangidte," and \n"eat it" is "mangiatelo." To this rule there are, however, \nmany exceptions, and a beginner must listen attentively. \n\nIn German the accent is usually on the first syllable as \nin English. In French and Italian " i " is never pronounced \nas with us as in "wine," but more or less like "ee" in \n"reed," Besides the "ee" sound, the Germans have a \nshort "i" like ours in "hinder." In Italian, "c" before \nconsonants, and before "a," "o," and "u," is pronounced \nas with us as in "cart" ; before "e" and "i" it sounds \nsomewhat like " ch " in " cherry." \n\n\n\n260 \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\nAt the Custom House \n\n1. We are ladies travelling \n\nfor pleasure. \n\n2. We have nothing to de- \n\nclare. \n\n\n\nA la Douane \n\n1. Nous sommes des dames \n\nqui faisons un voyage \nd\'agr^ment. \n\n2. Nous n\'avons rien h de- \n\nclarer. \n\n\n\nAt a Hotel \n\n3. We should like to see \n\nthe rooms. \n\n4. Are these the only rooms \n\nthat are vacant ? \n\n5. Bring me some hot \n\nwater. \n\n6. Bring me some more \n\ntowels. \n\n7. This is dirty. \n\n8. Bring me a sitz-bath \n\nevery morning at \nseven o\'clock. \n\n9. Show us the ladies\' \n\ntoilet room. \n\n10. Have the fire lighted in \n\nthe sitting-room. \n\n11. Have the clothes brushed \n\nand our boots cleaned \nevery morning. \n\n\n\nA VHotel \n3. Voyons les chambres. \n\n\n\n4. \n\n\n\n5. \n\n\n\n10. \n\n\n\n11. \n\n\n\nSont-ce les seules dispo- \n\nnibles ? \nApportez-moi de I\'eau \n\nchaude. \nApportez-moi des essuie- \n\nmains. \nCelui-ci n\'est pas propre. \nII me faut un bain de \n\nsi6ge tons les matins h \n\nsept heures. \nOu est le cabinet pour \n\ndames ? \nFaites allumer du feu au \n\nsalon. \nNos v\xc2\xa7tements devront \n\netre bross^s et nos \n\nchaussures nettoy^es \n\nchaque matin. \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n261 \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\nAlia Dogana \n\n1. Siamo signore che viag- \ngiamo per piacere. \n\n\n\nAm Tollamt \n\n1. Wir reisen zum Vergntl- \ngen. \n\n\n\n2. Non abbiamo niente da \ndichiarare. \n\n\n\n2. Wir haben nichts Ver- \nzoUbares. \n\n\n\n10. \n\n\n\n11. \n\n\n\nAlV Albergo \n\nVogliamo vedere le ca- \n\nmere. \nSono queste le sole ca- \n\nmere libere ? \nPortatemi dell\' acqua \n\ncalda. \nPortatemi qualche altri \n\nasciugamani. \nQuesto 6 sporco. \nPortatemi il semicupio \n\nogni mattina alle sette. \n\nDove 6 la ritirata per le \n\nsignore ? \nFatte accendere il f uoco \n\nnel salotto. \nFatte spazzare i panni e \n\npulire le scarpe ogni \n\nmattina. \n\n\n\n9. \n\n\n\n10. \n\n\n\n11. \n\n\n\nIm Gasthof \n\nWir mocliten die Zim- \n\nmer sehen. \nSind alle andern Zimmer \n\nbesetzt ? \nHolen Sie mir heisses \n\nWasser. \nBringen Sie mir noch \n\neinige Handtiicher. \nDieses da ist schmutzig. \nBesorgen Sie mir jeden \n\nMorgen um sieben \n\nUhr ein Sitzbad. \nFiihren Sie uns zum \n\nDamen-Kabinett. \nLassen Sie im Wohnzim- \n\nmer Feuer anmachen. \nLassen Sie jeden Morgen \n\ndie Kleider biirsten \n\nund die Stief el putzen. \n\n\n\n262 \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n12. Bring rae a large can of \ncold water. \n\n\n\n12. \n\n\n\nApportez-moi un grand \nbidon d\'eau froide. \n\n\n\n13. A pail. \n\n14. Matches. \n\n\n\n13. \n14. \n\n\n\nUn seau. \n\nDes allumettes. \n\n\n\n15. Wax matches. \n\n16. Please send for a lock- \n\nsmith. \n\n17. I have lost the key of \n\nmy trunk. \n\n18. Must you break the lock \n\nopen ? \n\n19. I can\'t turn the key. \n\n20. What time is the table \n\nd\'hdte ? \n\n\n\n15. Des allumettes de cire. \n\n16. Faites venir un serrurier. \n\n17. J\'ai perdu la cl6 de ma \n\nmalle. \n\n18. Faudra-t-il forcer la ser- \n\nrure ? \n\n19. Je ne puis faire tourner \n\nla cl^. \n\n20. A quelle heure est la \n\ntable d\'hCte ? \n\n\n\n21. We shall take our meals 21. \n\nat the table d\'h6te. \n\n22. Please keep us three 22. \n\nplaces. \n\n23. We should like a little 23. \n\ntable for ourselves. \n\n\n\n24. \n\n\n\n25. \n\n\n\n26. \n\n\n\n27. \n28. \n\n\n\nWe should like to have \nour meals in our \nrooms. \n\nBring me a " caf 6 com- \nplet " (coffee, hot milk, \nand bread and butter) . \n\nBring me two eggs, and \nlet them be boiled four \nminutes. \n\nSoft-boiled eggs. \n\nHard-boiled eggs. \n\n\n\nNous prendrons nos re- \npas k table d\'hCte. \n\nR6seryez-nous trois \nplaces. \n\nNous aimerions une pe- \ntite table particuli6re. \n\n\n\n24. Nous prendrons nos re- \n\npas dans notre apparte- \nment. \n\n25. Apportez-moi un caf6 \n\ncomplet. \n\n26. Apportez-moi deux oeufs \n\nk la coque cuits quatre \nminutes. \n\n27. Des oeufs k la coque. \n\n28. Des ceufs durs. \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n263 \n\n\n\n12. \n\n\nPortatemi un bocale d\' \n\n\n12. \n\n\n\n\nacqua fredda. \n\n\n\n\n13. \n\n\nUna secchia. \n\n\n13. \n\n\nU. \n\n\nFiaminiferi. \n\n\n14. \n\n\n15. \n\n\nCerini. \n\n\n15. \n\n\n16. \n\n\nFate venire il chiavaro. \n\n\n16. \n\n\n\n17. Ho perduto la chiave del 17. \n\nmio baule. \n\n18. Si deve rompere la serra- 18. \n\ntura ? \n\n19. La chiave non gira. 19. \n\n20. A che ora 6 la tavola 20. \n\nrotonda ? \n\n21. Mangeremo alia tavola 21. \n\nrotonda. \n\n22. Riservateci tre posti. 22. \n\n23. Vorremmo una piccola 23. \n\ntavola separata. \n\n24. Vogliamo mangiare in 24, \n\ncamera. \n\n25. Portatemi un caffe com- 25. \n\npleto. \n\n\n\nBringen Sie mir eine \n\ngrosse Kanne kalten \n\nWassers. \nEin Eimer. \nStreichholzer (Ztindhol- \n\nzer, Schwefelholzer). \nWachsztindholzer. \nBitte, lassen Sie einen \n\nSchlosser holen. \nIch habe den Schliissel \n\nzu meinem Koffer ver- \n\nloren. \nMiissen Sie das Schloss \n\naufbrechen ? \nIch kann den Schliissel \n\nnicht umdrehen. \nUm wie viel Uhr speist \n\nman an der Wirtstafel \n\n(table d\'hdte)? \nWir werden an der \n\nWirtstafel speisen. \nBitte, reserviren Sie uns \n\ndrei Gedecke. \nKonnen wir wohl einen \n\nkleinen Tisch f iir uns \n\nhaben ? \nServiren Sie uns die \n\nMahlzeiten auf dem \n\nZimmer. \nBringen Sie mir einen \n\n" caf6 complet." \n\n\n\n26. \n\n\n\n27. \n28. \n\n\n\nPortatemi due uova da \nbere, e che sianobolliti \nquattro minuti. \n\nUova da bere. \n\nUova tosti. \n\n\n\n26. \n\n\n\n27. \n\n28. \n\n\n\nBringen Sie mir zwei \nEier ; sie miissen vier \nMinuten kochen. \n\nWeichgesottene Eier. \n\nHartgesottene Eier. \n\n\n\n264 \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n29. Fried eggs. \n\n30. Stirred eggs. \n\n31. In the morningf or break- \n\nfast we want coffee and \nboiled milk for one \xe2\x80\x94 \ntea with cream for one \n\xe2\x80\x94 chocolate for one. \n\n\n\n29. Des oeufs frits. \n\n30. Des oeufs brouillds. \n\n31. Le matin, pour dejeuner \n\nnous desirous un caf6 \nau lait, \xe2\x80\x94 un th6 k la \ncreme, \xe2\x80\x94 un chocolat. \n\n\n\n32. Also butter \xe2\x80\x94 rolls \xe2\x80\x94 32. Avec beurre \xe2\x80\x94 petits \ncrescents \xe2\x80\x94 toast \xe2\x80\x94 pains \xe2\x80\x94 croissants \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nrusks. roties \xe2\x80\x94 biscuits. \n\n\n\n33. I want to have some \n\nclothes washed, \n\n34. Do not put any starch. \n\n\n\n33. Je desire faire laver du \n\nlinge. \n\n34. N\'amidonnez pas. \n\n\n\n35. Please put very little \n\nstarch in the under- \nclothes, \n\n36. Starch the collars and \n\ncuffs a good deal. \n\n\n\n35. Amidonnez fort pen. \n\n\n\n). Empesez bien les cols \net manchettes. \n\n\n\n37. The clothes must be back \non Tuesday evening \nwithout fail. \n\n\n\n37. Rapportez tout le linge \nmardi soir, sans f aute. \n\n\n\nLeaving a Hotel \n\n38. We wish to be called at 38. \n\nsix o\'clock. \n\n39. We leave for at 39. \n\neight. \n\n40. When does the omnibus 40. \n\nleave the hotel ? \n\n\n\nEn quittant Vhotel \n\nJe desire qu\'on nous \n^veille k six heures. \n\nNous partons pour \n\na huit heures. \n\nA quelle heure 1\' omnibus \npart-il ? \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n265 \n\n\n\n29. Uova al piatto. \n\n30. Uova brouilUs. \n\n31. La mattina prendiamo \n\nil caff6 latte per uno \n\xe2\x80\x94 the con crema per \nuno \xe2\x80\x94 cioccolata per \nuno. \n\n\n\n32. Anche del burro \xe2\x80\x94 dei \n\npanetti \xe2\x80\x94 chif ali \xe2\x80\x94 \npane abbruscato \xe2\x80\x94 \nzwieback. \n\n33. Ho della biancheria da \n\nfar lavare. \n\n34. Prego non mettere af- \n\nfatto amido. \n\n35. Prego mettere pochis- \n\nsimo amido nelle \nvesti. \n\n36. Mettete abbastanza \n\namido nei colli e nei \npolsi. \n\n37. La biancheria deve es- \n\nsere qui martedi sera \nimmancabilmente. \n\n\n\n29. Spiegeleier. \n\n30. Riihrei. \n\n31. Des Morgens zum Friih- \n\nsttick wiinschen wir \neine Portion Kaffee \nmitgekochter Milch \xe2\x80\x94 \neine Portion Thee mit \nRahm (Sahne) \xe2\x80\x94 eine \nPortion Chocolade. \n\n32. Dazu Butter und Brod- \n\nchen (Wecken), \xe2\x80\x94 \nHornchen, \xe2\x80\x94 gerostete \nBrodschnitten, \xe2\x80\x94 \nZwieback. \n\n33. Ich mochte meine \n\nWasche besorgt haben. \n\n34. Starken Sie die Wasche \n\nnicht. \n\n35. Thun Sie nur ein bischen \n\nStarke hinein. \n\n36. Starken Sie die Kragen \n\nundManschetten recht \nsteif. \n\n37. Dienstag Abend miissen \n\nSie uns die Wasche \nwiederbringen, aber \nohne Fehl. \n\n\n\nPartenza dalV Alhergo \n\n\n\n38. Vogliamo essere chi- \n\namate alle sei. \n\n39. Partiamo per - \n\notto. \n\n40. A che ora parte V omni- \n\nbus ? \n\n\n\nBeim Verlassen des Hotels \n38. \n\n\n\nLassen Sie uns um sechs \nUhr wecken, \nalle 39. Um acht Uhr reisen wir \n\nnach ab. \n\n40. Wann fahrt der Omni- \nbus (Kremser) weg ? \n\n\n\n266 \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n41. When must we have the 41. Quand faut-il que les \n\nluggage ready ? bagages soient prets ? \n\n42. These pieces are to be 42. II faut faire enr^gistrer \n\nregistered. ces colis. \n\n43. We will take these with 43. Nous emporterons ceux- \n\nus in the carriage. ci dans la voiture. \n\n44. We should like to have 44. Nous voudrions la note. \n\nour bill. \n\n45. I find it not unreasona- 45. C\'est assez raisonnable. \n\nble. \n\n46. I should like change for 46. Je voudrais la monnaie \n\nten francs. de dix francs. \n\n\n\nCdba \n\n\n\nFiacres \n\n\n\n47. \n\n48. \n\n\n\nCabby ! \n\nGo to the Hotel \n\n\n\n47. Cocher ! \n\n48. APHotel \n\n\n\n49. I will take you by the \n\nhour. \n\n50. Show me your tariff. \n\n51. It is now ten o\'clock. \n\n52. Go on ! \n\n\n\n49. Je vous prends k I\'heure. \n\n50. Montrez moi le tarif. \n61. II est dix heures juste. \n52. Allez! \n\n\n\n53. \n\n\nStop here ! \n\n\n53. \n\n\nArretez ici ! \n\n\n54. \n\n\nDrive to the Park (pub- \nlic gardens). \n\n\n54. \n\n\nAllez au pare. \n\n\n55. \n\n\nIs it near ? \n\n\n65. \n\n\nEst-ce pr6s d\'ici ? \n\n\n56. \n\n\nIs it far ? \n\n\n66. \n\n\nEst-ce loin ? \n\n\n57. \n\n\nHow far is it to ? \n\n\n57. \n\n\nA quelle distance est ? \n\n\n58. \n\n\nTake us where there is \n\n\n58. \n\n\nOu a-t-on la plus belle \n\n\n\n\nthe best view. \n\n\n\n\nvue? \n\n\n59. \n\n\nGo slowly ! \n\n\n59. \n\n\nAllez lentement ! \n\n\n60. \n\n\nGo quickly ! \n\n\n60. \n\n\nAllez vite ! \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n267 \n\n\n\n41. A che ora deve essere 41. \n\npronto il bagaglio ? \n\n42. Questi pezzi si devono 42. \n\nspedire. \n\n43. Prendiamo questi nel va- 43. \n\ngone. \n\n44. Vogliamo il conto. 44. \n\n45. Mi pare giusto. 45. \n\n\n\nWann wird das Gepack \n\nabgeholt ? \nDieses Gepack soil ein- \n\ngeschreiben werden. \nDieses behalten wir bei \n\nuns, im Eisenbahn \n\nwagen. \nBringen Sie uns die \n\nReclinung. \nIcli finde Sie uicht un- \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nmassig. \n\n\n46. \n\n\nVorrei denarl spied per \n\n\n46. \n\n\nKonnen Sie mir zebn \n\n\n\n\ndied lire. \n\n\n\n\nFranken wechseln ? \n\n\n\n\nIn Carrozza \n\n\n\n\nDroschken (Fiaker) \n\n\n47. \n\n\nCocchiere ! \n\n\n47. \n\n\nKutscher ! \n\n\n48. \n\n\nAH\' albergo . \n\n\n48. \n\n\nFahren Sie nach dem \nGasthof . \n\n\n49. \n\n\nAir era. \n\n\n49. \n\n\nIch nehme den Wagen \nper Stunde. \n\n\n50. \n\n\nMostratemi la tarifa. \n\n\n50. \n\n\nZeigen Sie mir den Tarif. \n\n\n61. \n\n\nSono le died. \n\n\n51. \n\n\nJetzt ist es zehn Uhr. \n\n\n62. \n\n\nAvanti ! \n\n\n52. \n\n\nFahren Sie zu ! (Vor- \nwarts ! \xe2\x80\x94 Weiter ! ) \n\n\n63. \n\n\nFermate qui ! \n\n\n53. \n\n\nHalten Sie hier ! \n\n\n64. \n\n\nAi giardini pubblici. \n\n\n54. \n\n\nFahren Sie uns in den \nPark \xe2\x80\x94 in die Anla- \ngen. \n\n\n66. \n\n\nE vicino ? \n\n\n55. \n\n\nIst es in der Nahe ? \n\n\n66. \n\n\nE lontano ? \n\n\n66. \n\n\nIst es weit ? \n\n\n67. \n\n\nQuanto h lontano ? \n\n\n57. \n\n\nWie weitistesnach ? \n\n\n68. \n\n\nPortateci dove c\' b la \n\n\n58. \n\n\nWo hat man die schonste \n\n\n\n\npiu bella veduta. \n\n\n\n\nAussicht ? \n\n\n59. \n\n\nPiano, piano ! \n\n\n59. \n\n\nFahren Sie langsam ! \n\n\n60. \n\n\nPresto I \n\n\n60. \n\n\nFahren Sie geschwind ! \n\n\n\n268 \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n61. If you treat your horse 61. Si vous ne maltraitez \n\nwell, I will give you pas votre clieval, vous \n\na good tip. aurez un bon pour- \n\nboire. \n\n62, If you abuse your horse, 62. Si vous maltraitez votre \n\nI will not give you cheval, vous n\'aurez \n\nanything. pas de pourboire. \n\n\n\n63. Better go slowly, rather 63. Allez doucement, plutCt \n\n\n\nthan hurt your horse. \n\n\n\nque d\'6reinter votre \ncheval. \n\n\n\n64. There is no hurry. \n\n65. I will not take your cab, \n\nbecause your horse is \nlame. \n\n\n\n64. Nous ne sommes pas \n\npress^es. \n\n65. Votre cheval boite, je ne \n\nvous prends pas. \n\n\n\n66. Can one get refresh- 66. Peut-onserafraichirici? \nments near here? \n\n\n\n67. Is there a dairy here ? \n\n68. Can we have some milk ? \n\n\n\n67. Y a-t-il une cr^merie \n\ntout pr6s ? \n\n68. Peut-on avoir du lait ? \n\n\n\n69. Take a glass of wine to \nthe coachman. \n\n\n\nI. Donnez un verre de vin \nau cocher. \n\n\n\n70. Stop a moment \n\n\n\n70. Arretez un instant ! \n\n\n\n71. Turn round and go back 71. Retournez k I\'hOtel. \n\nto the hotel. \n\n72. Here is your tip. 72. Voici votre pourboire. \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n269 \n\n\n\n61. Se trattate bene il ca- \n\nvallo, vi daro un bel \nregalo. \n\n62. Se maltrattate il cavallo, \n\nnon vi dar6 niente. \n\n\n\n63. Piuttosto andare piano \n\ndie bastonare 11 ca- \nvallo. \n\n64. Senza fretta ! \n\n65. Non vi prendo, perch6 il \n" cavallo 6 zoppo. \n\n66. Si trovano qui vicino dei \n\nrinfrescbi ? \n\n67. C fe qui una latteria ? \n\n68. Si puo avere del latte ? \n\n69. Date un bicchiere di vino \n\nal cocchiere. \n\n70. Fermate un momentino ! \n\n71. Voltate e tornate all\' al- \n\nbergo. \n\n72. Ecco per la buonamano. \n\n\n\n61. Wenn Sie Ihr Pferd gut \n\nbehandeln, so bekom- \nmen Sie ein gutes \nTrinkgeld. \n\n62. Wenn Sie das Pferd \n\nmishandeln,so bekom- \nmen Sie gar nichts \nzum Trinkgeld. \n\n63. Mir ist es lieber Sie \n\nfabren langsam, als \ndass Sie dem Pferde \nschaden. \n\n64. Wir baben es nicbt eilig. \n\n65. Ihre Droschke nehme \n\nicb nicbt, denn Sie \nbaben ja ein labmes \nPferd. \n\n66. Kann man bier in der \n\nNabe Erfrischungen \nbaben ? \n\n67. Giebt es bier eine \n\nMeierei ? \n\n68. Konnen wir Milcb be- \n\nkommen ? \n\n69. Bringen Sie dem Kut- \n\nscher ein Glas Wein \n\xe2\x80\x94 ein Glas Bier.i \n\n70. Kutscber, halten Sie \n\neinen Augenblick ! \n\n71. Kebren Sie um, nacb \n\ndem Hotel zuriick. \n\n72. Da ist Ihr Trinkgeld. \n\n\n\n1 In Germany beer would be more probable than wine. \n\n\n\n270 \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHBASES \n\n\n\nAt the Museum \xe2\x80\x94 the Pic- \nture Gallery \n\n73. What is the entrance fee? \n\n(price of admission). \n\n74. How do you get to the \n\nPicture Gallery ? \n\n\n\nAu Musee \xe2\x80\x94 a la Galerie \n\n73. Combien faut-il payer \n\nP entree ? \n\n74. Par oil va-t-on h, la ga- \n\nlerie des tableaux ? \n\n\n\n75. In which division is the 75. Ou sont les salles de la \n\n\n\nantique sculpture \n\n\n\nsculpture antique \n\n\n\n76. I am looking for the \nfamous statue of . \n\n\n\n76. Je cherche la fameuse \nstatue de . \n\n\n\n77. Can we get a catalogue ? 77. Y a-t-il un catalogue ? \n\n\n\n78. On what days is the \n\nMuseum open ? \n\n79. Is the admission free, or \n\nmust one pay ? \n\nAt the Station \n\n80. Is the train open yet ? \n\n\n\n78. A quels jours le Mus^e \n\nest-il ouvert ? \n\n79. L\'entr^e est-elle libre, \n\nou faut-il payer ? \n\nA la Gare \n\n80. Le train est-il prgt ? \n\n\n\n8L Is this the train for ? 81. Est-ce le train pour ? \n\n82. We want a carriage for 82. Nous ddsirons un com- \n\nladies only. partiment pour dames \n\nseules. \n\n83. If you will reserve this 83. Si vous voulez bien nous \n\nr^server ce comparti- \nment, je ne vous ou- \n\nblierai pas. \n\n84. From which track does 84. Le train part de quelle \n\nthe train go ? voie ? \n\n86. We are going by the ex- 85. Nous allons par le train \n\npress train to . degrandevitesse^ . \n\n86. Train de luxe. 86. Train de luxe. \n\n\n\ncarriage for us, I shall \nnot forget you. \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n2T1 \n\n\n\nAl Museo \xe2\x80\x94 alia Galleria \n73. Quanto h 1\' entrata ? \n\n\n\nIm Museum \xe2\x80\x94 In der Bilder- \nsammlung \n\n73. WaskostetderEintritt? \n\n\n\n74. Per dove si va alia Gal- \n\nleria ? \n\n75. Dove sono le sculture \n\nantiche ? \n\n76. Cerco la celebre statua \n\ndel . \n\n77. Si pii6 avere un cata- \n\nlogo? \n\n78. In che giorni 6 aperto il \n\nMuseo ? \n\n79. E libera V entrata, op- \n\npure si paga ? \n\nAlia Stazione (Ferrovia) \n\n80. E aperto il treno ? \n\n81. E questo il treno \n\nper ? \n\n82. Vogliamo il comparti- \n\nmento per signore sole. \n\n83. Se ci riservate questa \n\ncarrozza, non vi di- \nmenticherb. \n\n\n\n74. Wie gelangt man zur \n\nBilder-Gallerie ? \n\n75. Wo ist die Abtheilung \n\nfiir die antike Bild- \nhauerarbeit ? \n\n76. Ich suche die bertihmte \n\nBildsaule (Statue) \nder . \n\n77. Ist ein Katalog zu \n\nhaben ? \n\n78. An welchen Tagen ist \n\ndas Museum offen ? \n\n79. Ist der Eintritt frei, oder \n\nmuss man bezahlen ? \n\nAm Bahnhof \n\n80. Kann man schon ein- \n\nsteigen ? \n\n81. Fahrt dieser Zug \n\nnach ? \n\n82. Wir suchen das Damen- \n\nCoup6. \n\n83. ReservirenSieunsdiesen \n\nWagen, so soil es Ihr \nSchaden nicht sein. \n\n\n\n84. Da quale binario parte il \n\ntreno ? \n\n85. Partiamo col diretto \n\nper . \n\n86. Treno di lusso. \n\n\n\n84. Auf welchem Geleise \n\nfahrt der Zug ? \n\n85. Wir fahren mit dem \n\nSchnellzug nach . \n\n86. Train de luxe. \n\n\n\n272 \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n87. Time table. \n\n88. Steamer. \n\n\n\n87. Indicateur. \n\n88. Steamer \xe2\x80\x94 bateau k va- \n\npeur. \n\n\n\nAt the Post Office \n\n89. Where is the Post Office ? \n\n90. Where can I register a \n\nletter ? \n\n91. I wish to register this \n\nletter. \n\n92. Where does one buy- \n\nstamps ? \n\n93. Is this letter over weight ? \n\n\n\n94. How long will it take a \nletter to go from here \nto ? \n\n96. I want five foreign post- \nage stamps. \n\n96. I want ten postage \n\nstamps for France \xe2\x80\x94 \nItaly \xe2\x80\x94 Germany. \n\n97. I want twenty foreign \n\npostal cards. \n\n98. I wish to send a postal \n\npacket. \n\nAt the Telegraph Office \n\n99. Please give me a blank. \n\n\n\nA la Poste \n\n89. Oti est le bureau des \n\npostes ? \n\n90. Ou peut-on faire recom- \n\nmander une lettre ? \n\n91. Je desire recommander \n\ncette lettre. \n\n92. Ou se vendent les tim- \n\nbres-poste ? \n\n93. Cette lettre p6se-t-elle \n\ntrop? \n\n94. Combien de temps une \n\nlettre met-elle pour \narriver k ? \n\n95. Je dfeire cinq timbres \n\npour r stranger. \n\n96. Donnez-moi dix timbres \n\npour la France. \n\n97. Je voudrais vingt cartes- \n\npostales pour 1\' stran- \nger. \n\n98. Je desire expSdier un \n\ncolis postal. \n\nAu Bureau du Telegraph \n\n99. Donnez-moi une forme, \n\ns\'il vous plait. \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n273 \n\n\n\n87. \n\n\nOrario. \n\n\n87. \n\n\nDer Fahrplan. \n\n\n88. \n\n\n" Piroscafo " or " va- \n\n\n88. \n\n\nDer Dampfer (di \n\n\n\n\npore \' \' in time tables ; \n\n\n\n\nDampfschiff). \n\n\n\n\nin conversation al- \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nways "vapore." \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nAlia Posta \n\n\n\n\nAuf der Post \n\n\n89. \n\n\nDov\' 6 la Posta ? \n\n\n89. \n\n\nWo ist das Postamt ? \n\n\n\n90. \n\n\n\n91. \n\n\n\n92. \n\n\n\n93. \n\n\n\n94 \n\n\n\nDove si raccomandono \n\nle lettere ? \nVorrei raccomandare \n\nquesta lettera. \nDove si comprano fran- \n\ncobolli ? \nQuesta lettera b doppia ? \n\n\n\nQuanto tempo mette una \nlettera per arrivare \na ? \n\n95. Vorrei cinque franco- \n\nbolli per 1\' estero. \n\n96. Vorrei dieci francobolli \n\npel regno. \n\n97. Vorrei venti cartoline \n\npostali per 1\' estero. \n\n\n\n90. Wo kann ich einen Brief \n\neinschreiben lassen ? \n\n91. Ich mochte diesen Brief \n\neinschreiben lassen. \n\n92. Wo bekommt man Brief - \n\nmarken ? \n\n93. Ist an diesem Brief \n\nUbergewicht zu be- \nzahlen ? \n\n94. Wie lange braucht ein \n\nBrief von hier nach ? \n\n95. Ich wiinsche flinf Brief- \n\nmarken fiir\'s Aus- \nland. \n\n96. Ich wiinsche zehn Brief- \n\nmarken fiir Deutsch- \nland. \n\n97. Ich wiinsche zehn Post- \n\nkarten fiir\'s Ausland. \n\n\n\n98. Vorrei mandare \n\npacco postale. \n\nAl Telegrafo \n\n99. Favorisca un modulo. \n\n\n\n98. \n\n\n\nIch will dieses Packet \nmit der Post schicken. \n\n\n\nAuf dem Telegraphenamt \n\n99. Bitte, geben Sie mi: \nein Formular. \n\n\n\n274 \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n100. I wish to send a cable \nto America. \n\n\n\n100. Je desire cabler en \nAm^rique. \n\n\n\n101. \n102. \n\n\n\nIs it legible? \n\n\n101. \n\n\nEst-ce lisible ? \n\n\nHere is my card; if a \n\n\n102. \n\n\nVoid ma carte ; s\'il \n\n\ntelegram should come \n\n\n\n\nm\'arrive une d^peche \n\n\nfor me, please send it \n\n\n\n\nenvoy ez-la moi ^ cette \n\n\nto this address. \n\n\n\n\nadresse. \n\n\n\nForm of Telegram to engage \nBooms \n\n\n\nFormulede Telegramme pour \nretenir des chambres \n\n\n\n103. We shall arrive from \nRome at 3 p.m. \xe2\x80\x94 \n9 A.M. \xe2\x80\x94 Wednesday. \nWe wish three single \nrooms \xe2\x80\x94 one double \nand one single room \xe2\x80\x94 \nwith a sitting-room. \nMadame A- \n\n\n\n103. Arriverons de Rome \n3 p.m. \xe2\x80\x94 9 a.m. \xe2\x80\x94 mer- \ncredi. R^servez trois \nchambres ^ un lit \xe2\x80\x94 \nune chambre k deux \nlits, et une ^ un lit \xe2\x80\x94 \navec salon. \nMadame A B . \n\n\n\nAt a Forwarding AgenVs \n\n\n\nChez un Expediteur \n\n\n\n104. \n\n\nI should like to have \n\n\n104. \n\n\nJe desire faire exp^dier \n\n\n\n\nthis parcel forwarded \n\n\n\n\nce colis imm^diate- \n\n\n\n\nat once. \n\n\n\n\nment. \n\n\n105. \n\n\nFast freight. \n\n\n105. \n\n\nGrande-vitesse. \n\n\n106. \n\n\nSlow freight. \n\n\n106. \n\n\nPetite- Vitesse. \n\n\n107. \n\n\nThe charges are to be \n\n\n107. \n\n\nPaiement contre rem- \n\n\n\n\npaid on arrival. \n\n\n\n\nboursement. \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n275 \n\n\n\n100. Vorrei mandare un dis- \n\npaccio in America. \n\n101. E chiaro ? \n\n102. Vi consegno il mio bi- \n\nglietto, e prego che si \nmandino a questo in- \ndirizzo i dispacci che \narriveranno per me. \n\n\n\n100. \n\n\n\n101. \n102. \n\n\n\nIch moclite sine Kabel- \ndepesche nachAmer- \nika schicken. \n\n1st sie leserlich ? \n\nSollte f iir mich ein Tele- \ngramm kommen, so \nschicken Sie es, bitte, \nnach der Adresse auf \ndieser Karte. \n\n\n\nDispaccio per riservare Ca- \nmere \n\n\n\nEin Muster- Telegramm urn \nZimmer zu bestellen \n\n\n\n103. Arriviamo da Eoma \nalle 3 pom. \xe2\x80\x94 9 ant. \xe2\x80\x94 \nmercoledi. Desideri- \namo tre camere da un \nletto \xe2\x80\x94 una camera \ncon due letti, ed una \nda un letto \xe2\x80\x94 con \nsalotto. \nMadame A B . \n\n\n\n103. Wir kommen Mitt- \nwoch, dreiUhrNach- \nmittags \xe2\x80\x94 neun Uhr \nVormittags \xe2\x80\x94 aus \nRom. Reserviren Sie \nuns drei einfache \nZimmer \xe2\x80\x94 ein zwei- \nschlafriges, ein ein- \nfach.es Zimmer \xe2\x80\x94 \nnebst Wohnzimmer. \nFrau a B . \n\n\n\n\n\nDallo Speditore \n\n\n\n\nBeim Spediteur \n\n\n104. \n\n\nVorrei spedire subito \n\n\n104. \n\n\nDieses Packet mochte \n\n\n\n\nquesto pacco. \n\n\n\n\nich sogleich bef drdert \nhaben. \n\n\n105. \n\n\nGrande velocity. \n\n\n105. \n\n\nAls Eilgut. \n\n\n106. \n\n\nPiccola velocity. \n\n\n106. \n\n\nAls Fracht. \n\n\n107. \n\n\nLe spese da pagarsi in \n\n\n107. \n\n\nDie Gebiihren sind vom \n\n\n\n\narrive. \n\n\n\n\nEmpfanger zu ent- \nrichten. \n\n\n\n276 SOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\nAt a Banker^ s Chez le Banquier \n\n108. I have a letter of credit 108. J\'aiunelettre de change \n\nfrom . de . \n\n109. Is it all right ? 109. Est-elle en rfegle ? \n\n110. I shall have to trouble 110. J\'ai encore quelque \n\nyou still further. chose k vous de- \n\nmander. \n\n111. Where must I sign my 111. Oti faut-il signer ? \n\nname ? \n\n\n\n112 \n113 \n114 \n115 \n\n116 \n117 \n118 \n119 \n120 \n121 \n\n\n\nAt a 8tationer\'\'s Chez le Papetier \n\nI should like some let- 112. Je voudrais du papier \nter paper. k lettres. \n\nI should like some 113. Je voudrais des enve- \nthicker envelopes. loppes plus ^paisses. \n\nI w^ant a bottle of ink. 114. J\'ai besoin d\'encre. \n\nI want a bottle of muci- 115. J\'ai besoin de coUe. \nlage. \n\nI want some sealing- 116. J\'ai besoin de cire k \nwax. cacheter. \n\nI want some blotting- 117. J\'ai besoin de papier \npaper. buvard. \n\nI want some wrapping- 118. J\'ai besoin de papier k \npaper. envelopper. \n\nI want some twine. 119. J\'ai besoin de la ficelle. \n\nI want some steel pens. 120. J\'ai besoin de plumes \n\nd\'acier. \n\nI want some pencils. 121. J\'ai besoin de crayons. \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n277 \n\n\n\nAlia Banca \n\n108. Ho una lettera di cre- \n\ndito della casa , \n\n109. E in ordine ? \n\n110. La dovrd incommodare \n\nancora. \n\n\n\nBeim Bankier \n\n108. Ich habe einen Credit- \n\nbrief von . \n\n109. 1st Alias in Ordnung ? \n\n110. Ich muss Sie noch \n\nweiter bemiihen. \n\n\n\n111. Dove devo firmare ? \n\n\n\n111. Wo muss icli meinen \nNam en unterzeich- \nnen? \n\n\n\nIn una Cartoleria \n\n112. Vorrei della carta da \n\nlettere. \n\n113. Vorrei delle buste piu \n\nforti. \n\n114. Vorrei una bottiglia \n\nd\' inchiostro. \n\n115. Vorrei una bottiglia di \n\ngomma. \n\n116. Vorrei della cera lacca. \n\n117. Vorrei della carta suga. \n\n118. Vorrei della carta per \n\ninvoltare. \n\n119. Vorrei dello spago. \n\n120. Vorrei delle penne \n\nd\' acciajo. \n\n121. Vorrei dei lapis (same \n\nin singular and plu- \nral). \n\n\n\nBeim Schreibmaterialien- \nhdndler \n\n112. Ich wtinsche Brief - \n\npapier. \n\n113. Ich wtinsche einige \n\ndickere Converts. \n\n114. Ich wtinsche Tinte. \n\n115. Ich wtinsche eine Lo- \n\nsung Gummi arabi- \ncum. \n\n116. Ich wtinsche Siegellack. \n\n117. Ich wtinsche etwas \n\nLosch-papier. \n\n118. Ich wtinsche Pack- \n\npapier. \n\n119. Ich wtinsche Bind- \n\nfaden. \n\n120. Ich wtinsche einige \n\nStahlfedern. \n\n121. Ich wtinsche Bleistifte. \n\n\n\n278 SOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\nAt a Dressmaker* s Chez la Couturiere \n\n122. Mrs. recommended 122. Madame, vous m\'avez \n\nyou to me. 6t6 recommand^e par \n\nMme. . \n\n123. What patterns have 123. Quels modules avez- \n\nyou ? vous ? \n\n124. This pleases me best. 124. Voici ce qui me plait le \n\nmieux. \n\n125. Will you take my meas- 125. Prenez mes mesures, \n\nure ? s\'il vous plait. \n\n126. Don\'t make the vi^aist 126. Ne me serrez pas trop \n\ntoo tight. la taille. \n\n127. When am I to try it 127. Quand pourrez-vous me \n\non ? r essay er ? \n\n128. It is too tight across 128. Cela me gene k la poi- \n\nthe chest. trine. \n\n129. The sleeve is too wide. 129. La manche est trop \n\nlarge. \n\n130. The waistband is too 130. La ceinture est trop \n\nloose. lache. \n\n131. Itistootightintheneck. 131. Le col est trop juste. \n\n132. Cut it out a little at 132. Echancrez un peu sous \n\nthe armhole. les bras. \n\n133. The skirt is too long in 133. La jupe est trop longue \n\nfront and too short par devant et trop \n\nbehind. courte derri^re. \n\n134. The skirt does not hang 134. La jupe tombe mal. \n\nwell. \n\n135. This is not straight. 135. Ce n\'est pas droit. \n\n136. It is not in the middle. 136. Ce n\'est pas au milieu. \n\n137. I must have a pocket. 137. II me faut une poche. \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n279 \n\n\n\nDalla Sarta \n\n122. La Signora C mi \n\nha raccomandato 1^ \nvostra casa. \n\n123. Che campioni vi sono ? \n\n124. Preferisco questo. \n\n125. Volete prendere le \n\nmisure ? \n\n126. Non mi fate la vita \n\ntroppo stretta. \n\n127. Quando lo potr6 pro- \n\nvare? \n\n128. E troppo stretto sul \n\npetto. \n\n129. La manica e troppo \n\nlarga. \n\n130. La cinta h troppo larga. \n\n\n\nBei der Rleidermacherin \n\n122. Frau hat Sie mir \n\nempfohlen. \n\n123. Was ftir Muster haben \n\nSie? \n\n124. Dieses gefallt mir am \n\nbesten. \n126. Wollen Sie mir das \nMass nehmen ? \n\n126. Machen Sie die Taille \n\nnicht zu eng. \n\n127. Wann soil ich zum \n\nAnprobiren kom- \nmen ? \n\n128. Das spannt liber der \n\nBrust. \n\n129. Der Armel ist zu weit. \n\n130. Der Bund sitzt zu lose. \n\n\n\n131. E troppo stretto alcollo. \n\n132. Levatene un poco sotto \n\nle braccia. \n\n133. La veste 6 troppo lunga \n\ndavanti, e troppo \ncorta dietro. \n\n134. La veste non cade \n\nbene. \n\n135. Non sta dritto. \n\n136. Non sta in mezzo. \n\n137. Ci voglio una saccoccia \n\n(in Northern Italy, \n\n*\'tasca"). \n\n\n\n131. Am Hals ist es zu fest. \n\n132. Schneiden Sie das Arm- \n\nloch noch ein wenig \naus. \n\n133. Der Rock ist vorn zu \n\nlang und hinten zu \nkurz. \n\n134. Der Rock fallt nicht \n\nrichtig. \n\n135. Dies sitzt schief . \n\n136. Dies ist nicht in der \n\nMitte. \n\n137. Eine Tasche muss ich \n\nhaben. \n\n\n\n280 \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n138. That is more comfort- 138. \n\nable. \n\n139. When will my dress be 139. \n\nready ? \n\n140. Send the bill at the 140. \n\nsame time. \n\n\n\nC\'est plus ais6 mainte- \n\nnant. \nQuand ma robe sera-t- \n\nelle pret a livrer ? \nEnvoyez la facture en \n\nm\xc2\xa7me temps. \n\n\n\nAt a Milliner \n\n141. I am looking for a 141. \n\nsimple hat to travel \nin. \n\n142. It is very pretty, but is 142. \n\nnot becoming to me. \n\n\n\nChez la Modiste \n\nJe desire trouver un \nchapeau de voyage \nfort simple. \n\nII est tr6s-joli mais il \nne me va pas. \n\n\n\n143. \n\n\nIt is too large. \n\n\n143. \n\n\n11 est trop grand. \n\n\n144. \n\n\nIt is too small. \n\n\n144. \n\n\n11 est trop petit. \n\n\n145. \n\n\nThis one is more be- \ncoming. \n\n\n145. \n\n\nCelui-ci est plus seyant. \n\n\n146. \n\n\nWhat is the price of \n\n\n146. \n\n\nQuel est le prix de \n\n\n\n\nthis one ? \n\n\n\n\ncelui-ci ? \n\n\n147. \n\n\nThat is too dear. \n\n\n147. \n\n\nC\'est trop Cher. \n\n\n148. \n\n\nWhat do you ask to \n\n\n148. \n\n\nCombien me deman- \n\n\n\n\nmake a hat to order ? \n\n\n\n\nderez-vous pour m\'en \nfaire un sur com- \nmande ? \n\n\n\nIn a Shop \n\n149. I should like some \nblack cotton stock- \nings. \n\n160. These are not fine \nenough. \n\n151. How much a pair do \n\nthey cost ? \n\n152. That is too much. \n\n\n\nDans ?m Magasin \n\n149. Faites-moi voir des bas \n\nde coton noirs, s\'il \nvous plait. \n\n150. Ceux-ci ne sont pas \n\nassez fins. \n\n151. Combien la paire ? \n\n152. C\'est trop. \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n281 \n\n\n\n138. Cosi 6 piu commodo. \n\n\n\n138. Das ist bequemer. \n\n\n\n139. Quando sar^ pronto il \n\ncostume ? \n\n140. Mandate il conto insi- \n\neme colla roba. \n\n\n\n139. Wann wird mein Kleid \n\nfertig sein ? \n\n140. Schicken Sie die Rech- \n\nnung gleich mit. \n\n\n\nDalla Modista \n\n141. Cerco un cappello sem- \nplice per viaggio. \n\n\n\nBei der Putzhdndlerin \n\n141. Ich suche einen ein- \nfachen Reisehut. \n\n\n\n142. E grazioso, ma non mi \n\nsta bene. \n\n143. E troppo grande. \n\n144. E troppo piccolo. \n\n145. Questo mi sta meglio. \n\n\n\n142. Er ist selir htibsch, \n\nkleidet raich aber \nnicht. \n\n143. Er ist za gross. \n\n144. Er ist zu klein. \n\n145. Dieser steht mir besser. \n\n\n\n146. Quanto costa questo \n\n\n\n146. Was kostet dieser ? \n\n\n\n147. E troppo caro. 147. Das ist zu theuer. \n\n148. Quanto domandereste 148. Was verlangen Sie \n\nper farmi un cappello wenn Sie einen Hut \n\napposta? auf Bestellung \n\nmachen ? \n\n\n\nIn un Negozio \n\n\n\nIn einem Laden \n\n\n\n149. Vorrei delle calze nere 149, Bitte, zeigen Sie miv \n\ndi cotone. schwarze baumwol- \n\nlene Striimpfe. \n\n150. Non sono abbastanza 150. Diese sind nicht fein \n\nfine. genug. \n\n151. Quanto costano il paio ? 151. Was kostet das Paar ? \n\n\n\n152. E troppo. \n\n\n\n162. Das ist zu viel. \n\n\n\n282 \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n153. I will not give you any \n\nmore. \n\n154. I\'ll look for them else- \n\nwhere first. \n\n155. Have you narrow white \n\nribbon ? \n\n156. This is just what I \n\nwant. \n\n157. I do not really want it. \n\n158. I should like some ma- \n\nterial for veils. \n\n159. What is the price of your \n\nwhite kid gloves ? \n\n160. Four button length. \n\n161. Velvet. \n\n162. Satin. \n\n163. I should like some \n\nneedles and pins, \nthread and darning \ncotton, also a thim- \nble and a pair of \nscissors, buttons, and \nbraid. \n\n\n\n153. Je ne veux pas donner \n\n\'davantage. \n\n154. Je vais chercher ail- \n\nleurs avant de me de- \ncider. \n\n155. Avez-vous du ruban \n\nblanc dtroit ? \n\n156. Voil^ juste ce quUl une \n\nfaut. \n\n157. De fait, je n\'en ai pas \n\nbesoin. \n\n158. Je voudrais du tulle k \n\nvoilettes. \n\n159. Quel est le prix de vos \n\ngants de chevreau \nblancs ? \n\n160. A quatre boutons. \n\n161. Velours. \n\n162. Satin. \n\n163. J\'ai besoin d\'aiguilles \n\net d\'^pingles, de fil \net de coton k repri- \nser, ainsi que d\'un \nd6, de ciseaux, de \nboutons et de tresse \nde laine. \n\n\n\nAt a Doctor^ s Office \n\n164. Does Dr. F. live here ? \n\n165. At what time are his \n\noffice hours ? \n\n166. Which is the waiting \n\nroom ? \n\n167. Do you think he will \n\ncome soon ? \n\n\n\nChez le Medecin \n\n164. Est-ce ici que demeure \n\nle docteur F. ? \n\n165. Quelles sont ses heures \n\nde consultations ? \n\n166. Oti est le salon d\'attente? \n\n167. L\'attendez-vous bien- \n\ntot? \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n283 \n\n\n\n163. Non vi dar6 di piu. \n\n\n\n153. Ich gebe nicht mehr. \n\n\n\n154. Cercher6 in un altro 154. Icli will erst anderswo \nnegozio. suchen. \n\n\n\n155. Avete del nastro bianco 155. \n\nstretto ? \n\n156. E proprio questo che 156. \n\ncercavo. \n\n157. Veramente, non mi 157. \n\nserve. \n\n158. Vorrei della stoffa per 158. \n\nveli. \n\n159. Quanto costano guanti 159. \n\nbianchi ? \n\n\n\nHaben Sie schmales \n\nweisses Band ? \nDas ist ganz genau was \n\nich brauche. \nEigentlich habe ich es \n\nnicht nothig. \nIch wiinsche Schleier- \n\nstoffe. \nWas kosten die weissen \n\nGlac^-Handschuhe ? \n\n\n\n1. Da quattro bottoni. \n\n\n160. \n\n\nMit vier Knopfen. \n\n\n.. Veluto. \n\n\n161. \n\n\nDer Samt (Sammet). \n\n\n!. Raso. \n\n\n162. \n\n\nDer Atlas. \n\n\nt. Vorrei degli aghi e \n\n\n163. \n\n\nIch wiinsche Nahnadeln \n\n\ndelle spille, filo e \n\n\n\n\nund Stecknadeln, \n\n\ncotone da cucire, \n\n\n\n\nZwirnundStopfgarn ; \n\n\nanche un ditale ed \n\n\n\n\ndazu einen Fingerhut \n\n\nun paio di forbici, \n\n\n\n\nund eine Schere, \n\n\nbottoni e zagana. \n\n\n\n\nnopfe und Litze. \n\n\nDal Medico \n\n\n\n\nBeim Arzt \n\n\n\n164. Abita qui 11 Dottore \n\nF. ? \n\n165. Quali sono le ore di \n\nconsultazione ? \n\n166. Dove devo aspettare ? \n\n\n\n167. Credete che \npresto ? \n\n\n\nvenga \n\n\n\n164. Wohnt hier der Doktor \n\nF. ? \n\n165. Wann hat er seine \n\nSprechstunde ? \n\n166. Wo ist das Wartezim- \n\nmer ? \n\n167. Sie uieinen er kame \n\ngleich ? \n\n\n\n284 \n\n168. I can\'t wait any longer. \n\n169. Here is my card; say \n\nthat I beg him to \ncall as soon as possi- \nble at the Hotel . \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n168. Je ne puis attendre plus \n\nlongtemps. \n\n169. Voici ma carte ; dites- \n\nlui de passer chez \n\nmoi, ^ I\'hotel , \n\nle plus tot possible. \n\n\n\nAt a Theatre Office \n\n170. What are they going \n\nto play on Friday ? \n\n171. Which are the best \n\nseats ? \n\n172. How much do the boxes \n\ncost? \n\n173. Give me three orches- \n\ntra stalls. \n\n\n\nAu bureau de Theatre \n\n170. Que jouera-t-on ven- \n\ndredi ? \n\n171. Quelles sont les meil- \n\nleures places ? \n\n172. Quel est le prix des \n\nloges ? \n\n173. Donnez-moi trois stalles \n\nd\'orchestre. \n\n\n\nTo discourage Beggars \n174. Go away ! \n\n176. I have nothing. \n176. I have no change. \n\n\n\nPour rebuter les mendiants \n\n174. Allez-vous en ! \n\n175. Je n\'ai rien k donner. \n\n176. Je n\'ai pas de monnaie. \n\n\n\nPhotographs Photographies \n\n177. I wish to buy some 177. Je desire des photo- \n\nphotographs, graphics. \n\n178. I prefer them un- 178. Je les voudrais non \n\nmounted. mont^es. \n\n179. Have you no larger 179. N\'en avez-vous pas de \n\nones ? plus grand format ? \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n285 \n\n\n\n168. Non posso aspettare 168. Langer kann ich nicht \n\n\n\npm. \n169. Ecco il mio biglietto; \nfate il piacere di pre- \ngare il Signer Dot- \ntore di favorire all\' \n\nalbergo , quanto \n\nprima potr^. \n\n\n\nwarten. \n169. Da ist meine Karte ; \nsagen Sie, ich liesse \nihn bitten, sobald wie \n\nmoglich im Hotel \n\nvorzukommen. \n\n\n\nAl Teatro \n\n170. Cosa si d^ il venerdi ? \n\n171. Quali sono i migliori \n\nposti ? \n\n172. Quanto costano i pal- \n\nchi? \n\n173. Datemi tre poltrone. \n\n\n\nTheater \n\n170. Was wird am Freitag \n\ngegeben ? \n\n171. Welches sind die besten \n\nPlatze ? \n\n172. Was kosten die Logen ? \n\n173. Geben Sie mir drei \n\nSperrsitze. \n\n\n\nContro Vimportunita dei \nmendicanti \n\n174. Vavia! \n\n175. Non ho niente. \n\n176. Non ho spicci. \n\n\n\nUm den Bettlern zu wehren \n\n174. Machen Sie dass Sie \n\nf ortkommen ! \n\n175. Ich habe Nichts bei mir. \n\n176. Ich habe kein Klein- \n\ngeld. \n\n\n\nFotografie \n\n177. Vorrei delle fotografie. \n\n178. Le pref erisco non mont- \n\nate. \n\n179. Non ne avete piu \n\ngrandi ? \n\n\n\nPhotographien \n\n177. Ich mochte einige \n\nPhotographien. \n\n178. Ich mochte sie lieber \n\nunauf g e z ogene \nhaben. \n\n179. Haben Sie keine \n\ngrosseren ? \n\n\n\n286 \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHBASES \n\n\n\n180. These are too large. \n\n\n\n180. \n\n\n\n181. Are these all you have ? 181. \n\n\n\n182. \n\n\n\n183. \n\n\n\nHow soon can you have \nsome more printed ? \n\n\n\nWill you send them \nafter me to ? \n\n184. Here is my address. \n\n185. How much will they \n\ncost, with the post- \nage ? \n\n\n\n182. \n\n\n\n183. \n\n184. \n185. \n\n\n\nCelles-ci sont trop \n\ngrandes. \nEst-ce tout ce que vous \n\navez ? \nPour quand pouvez- \n\nvous en faire tirer \n\nd\'autres ? \nVoulez-vous me les ex- \n\np6dier k ? \n\nVoici mon adresse. \nCombien cotiteront- \n\nelles y compris I\'af- \n\nfranchissement ? \n\n\n\nVisits \n186. Is Mrs. C. at home ? \n\n\n\nLes Visites \n\n\n\n186. Madame C. est-elle chez \nelle? \n187. Is Mrs. C. receiving ? 187. Madame C. regoit-elle ? \n\n\n\n188. Please say we are sorry 188. Dites-lui que nous \nnot to have seen her. sommes bien fach^es \n\nde ne pas 1\' avoir vue. \n\n\n\n189. \n190. \n191. \n192. \n193. \n\n\n\nCourtesies, etc. \n\nGood morning. \nGood day. \nGood evening. \nGood night. \nThank you. \n\n\n\nAccueils courtois, etc. \n\n\n\n194. Thank you very much. \n\n195. If you please (to a \n\nservant). \n\n\n\n189. \n\n\n(Not used in French.) \n\n\n190. \n\n\nBonjour. \n\n\n191. \n\n\nBonsoir. \n\n\n192. \n\n\nBonne nuit. \n\n\n193. \n\n\nMerci bien. \n\n\n194. \n\n\nBien des remerciments. \n\n\n195. \n\n\nS\'il vous plait. \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n287 \n\n\n\n180. Queste sono troppo \n\ngrandi. \n\n181. Non ne avete altre ? \n\n182. Quando potrete tirare \n\ndelle altre copie ? \n\n183. Prego mandarmele \n\na ? \n\n184. Ecco I\'indirizzo. \n\n186. Quanto costeranno, \ncompresa la spedizi- \none (I\'affrancatura) ? \n\n\n\n180. Diese sind zu gross. \n\n181. Haben Sie keine an- \n\ndern? \n\n182. Wie bald konnen Sie \n\nnoch welche machen \nlassen ? \n\n183. Konnen Sie sie mir \n\nnachschicken ? \n\n184. Da ist meine Adresse. \n\n185. Das Porto mit ein- \n\ngerechnet kosten sie \nwieviel ? \n\n\n\nVisite \n\n186. E in casa la Signora \n\nC. ? \n\n187. Riceve la Signora \n\nC. ? \n\n188. Dite che ci rincresce di \n\nnon averla trovata. \n\n\n\nBesuche \n\n186. Ist Frau C. zu Hause ? \n\n187. Empfangt Frau C. \n\nheute ? \n\n188. Bitte sagen Sie, dass \n\nwir bedauern sie \nnicht getroffen zu \nhaben. \n\n\n\nCortesie, etc. \n\n189. (Not used in Italian.) \n\n190. Buon giorno. \n\n191. Buona sera. \n\n192. Buona notte. \n\n193. Grazie. \n\n194. Mille grazie. \n\n195. Fatemi il piacere. \n\n\n\nHojtiche Anreden u.s.w. \n\n189. Guten Morgen. \n\n190. Guten Tag. \n\n191. Guten Abend. \n\n192. Gute Nacbt. \n\n193. Danke. Ich danke \n\nIhnen. \n\n194. Danke bestens. \n\n195. Bitte. \n\n\n\n288 \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n196. If you please (to an \n\nequal) . \n\n197. Will you be so kind as \n\nto \n\n198. I am sorry to trouble \n\nyou. \n\n199. I hope I do not incon- \n\nvenience you. \n\n200. Excuse me. \n\n201. I beg your pardon \n\n202. Do you mind closing \n\nthat window ? \n\n203. Do you feel any \n\ndraught ? \n\n204. What o\'clock is it ? \n\n205. How long do we stop \n\nhere ? \n\n206. How long will it take \n\nto mend this ? \n\n207. I do not understand. \n\n208. I speak only a few \n\nwords of French. \n\n209. What is the name of \n\nthis ? \n\n210. What is that church \n\ncalled ? \n\n211. What is that building ? \n\n212. What is your name ? \n\n213. I want to go to \n\n\n\n196. Je vous prie. \n\n197. Ayez la bont^ de \n\n198. Je suis bien f^ch^e de \n\nvous d^ranger. \n\n199. J\'esp^re ne pas vous \n\nd^ranger. \n\n200. Excusez-moi. \n\n201. Pardon! \n\n202. Cela vous incommod- \n\nerait-il de fermer \ncette fen\xc2\xa7tre ? \n\n203. Sentez-vous un courant \n\nd\'air ? \n\n204. Quelle heure est-il ? \n\n205. Combien de temps \n\ns\'arrete-t-on ici ? \n\n206. Combien de temps cela \n\nvous prendra-t-il k \nraccommoder ceci ? \n\n207. Je ne comprends pas. \n\n208. Je ne parle que quelques \n\nmots de fran9ais. \n\n209. Comment appelle-t-on \n\ncela? \n\n210. Comment s\'appelle \n\ncette ^glise ? \n\n211. Quel est ce batiment ? \n\n212. Quel est votre nom ? \n\n213. Je voudrais aller h \n\n\n\n214. Listen to me. \n\n215. Take care ! Stop ! \n\n216. Who is it ? \n\n217. Come in ! \n\n\n\n214. Ecoutez-moi. \n\n215. Prenez garde! Arretez! \n\n216. Qui est-ce ? \n\n217. Entrez I \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n289 \n\n\n\n196. Mi faccia la grazia. \n\n197. Avrebbe la compia- \n\ncenza di \n\n198. Mi rincresce di disturb- \n\naiia. \n\n199. Non vorrei dare incom- \n\nmodo. \n\n200. Scusi. \n\n201. Perdoni! \n\n202. Lei increscerebbe di \n\ncbiudere quella fines- \ntra? \n\n203. Sente corrente d\'aria? \n\n204. Che or\' h ? \n\n205. Quanto tempo si f erma? \n\n206. Quanto tempo si met- \n\ntevk per raccomodare \nquesto ? \n\n207. Non capisco. \n\n208. Parlo pochissimo I\'itali- \n\nano. \n\n209. Come si chiama questo? \n\n\n\n196. Darfichbitten? (Durfte \n\nich Sie bemtihen ?) \n\n197. Wlirden Sie so gut \n\nsein \n\n198. Ich bedaure, Sie zu \n\nbemtihen. \n\n199. Hoffentlich store ich \n\nSie nicht. \n\n200. Entschuldigen Sie. \n\n201. Verzeihung. \n\n202. Mochten Sie jenes \n\nFenster wohl schlies- \nsen? \n\n203. Zieht es Ihnen von \n\ndiesem Fenster ? \n\n204. Wie viel Uhr ist es ? \n\n205. Wie lange halt man \n\nhier? \n\n206. Wie lange branchen Sie \n\num dies zu flicken ? \n\n207. Ich verstehe nicht. \n\n208. Ich kann nur ein paar \n\nWorte des Deutschen. \n\n209. Wie heisst das ? \n\n\n\n210. Come si chiama quella \n\nchiesa ? \n\n211. Cos\' b quella fabbrica? \n\n212. Come vi chiamate ? \n\n213. Vorrei andare a \n\n\n\n214. Seutite. \n\n215. Badate ! \n\n216. Chi 6? \n\n217. Avanti! \n\nu \n\n\n\nFermatevi ! \n\n\n\n210. Wie heisst jene Kirche ? \n\n211. Was fiir ein Gebaude \n\nist das ? \n\n212. Wie heisszen Sie ? \n\n213. Ich wiinsche nach \n\nzu gehen. \n\n214. Horen Sie auf. \n\n215. Geben Sie Achtl Haiti \n\n216. Wer ist cs ? \n\n217. Herein. \n\n\n\n290 SOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\nA \n\n\nFEW VERBS \n\n\nTO BE \n\n\nETKB \n\n\nPresent \n\n\nFresent \n\n\nlam \n\n\nJe suis \n\n\nHe, she is \n\n\n11, elle est \n\n\nWe are \n\n\nNous sommea \n\n\nYou are \n\n\nVous etes \n\n\nThey are \n\n\nlis, elles sont \n\n\nFuture \n\n\nFutur \n\n\nI shall be \n\n\nJe serai \n\n\nHe, she will be \n\n\n11, elle sera \n\n\nWe shall be \n\n\nNous serons \n\n\nYou will be \n\n\nVous serez \n\n\nThey will be \n\n\nUs, elles seront \n\n\nFast \n\n\nFasse \n\n\nI have been \n\n\nJ\'ai 6t6 \n\n\nHe, she has been \n\n\n11, elle a 6t6 \n\n\nWe have been \n\n\nNous avons 6t6 \n\n\nYou have been \n\n\nVous avez 6t^ \n\n\nThey have been \n\n\nlis, elles ont 6t6 \n\n\nTO HAVE \n\n\nAVOIR \n\n\nFresent \n\n\nPresent \n\n\nI have \n\n\nJ\'ai \n\n\nHe, she has \n\n\n11, elle a \n\n\nWe have \n\n\nNous avons \n\n\nYou have \n\n\nVous avez \n\n\nThey have \n\n\nDs, elles ont \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n291 \n\n\n\nA FEW VERBS \n\n\n\nESSERE \n\n\n8EIN \n\n\nFresente \n\n\nFrdsens \n\n\nSono \n\n\nIch bin \n\n\nE \n\n\nEr, sie ist \n\n\nSiamo \n\n\nWir sind \n\n\nSiete \n\n\nSie sind \n\n\nSono \n\n\nSie sind \n\n\nFuturo \n\n\nFuturum \n\n\nSard \n\n\nIcb werde sein \n\n\nSar^ \n\n\nEr, sie wird sein \n\n\nSaremo \n\n\nWir werden sein \n\n\nSarete \n\n\nSie werden sein \n\n\nSaranno \n\n\nSie werden sein \n\n\nFassato \n\n\nFerfektum \n\n\nSonostato \xe2\x80\x94 stata^ \n\n\nIch bin gewesen \n\n\nE stato \xe2\x80\x94 stata \n\n\nEr, sie ist gewesen \n\n\nSiamo stati \xe2\x80\x94 state \n\n\nWir sind gewesen \n\n\nSiete stati 2 \n\n\nSie sind gewesen \n\n\nSono stati \n\n\nSie sind gewesen \n\n\nAVERS \n\n\nHABEN \n\n\nFresente \n\n\nFrdsens \n\n\nHo \n\n\nIch habe \n\n\nHa \n\n\nEr, sie bat \n\n\nAbbiamo \n\n\nWir haben \n\n\nAvete \n\n\nSie haben \n\n\nHanno \n\n\nSie haben \n\n\n\n1 Masculine, "stato"; feminine, "stata.* \n\n2 *\xc2\xab Stati " is correct for both genders. \n\n\n\n292 \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\nFuture \n\nI shall have \nHe, she will have \nWe shall have \nYou will have \nThey will have \n\nPast \xe2\x80\x94 with some participles \n\n\n\n1. had \n\n2. eaten \n\n3. drunk \n\n4. seen \n\n5. said \n\n6. done \n\n7. ordered \n\n8. sent \n\n9. called \n\n10. paid \n\n11. left \n\n12. asked \n\n13. forgotten \n\n14. read \n\n15. spoken \n\n16. written \n\n17. lost \n\n18. given \n\n\n\nI have \nHe, she has \nWe have \nYou have \nThey have \n\n\n\nJ\'ai \n\nII ou elle a \nNous avons \nVous avez \nlis ou elles \nont \n\n\n\nFutur \n\nJ\'aurai \n11, elle aura \nNous aurons \nVous aurez \nUs, elles auront \n\n\n\nPasse \n\n1. eu \n\n2. mang6 \n\n3. bu \n\n4. vu \n\n5. dit \n\n6. fait \n\n7. command^ \n\n8. envoys \n\n9. appel6 \n\n10. pay4 \n\n11. laiss^ \n\n12. demand^ \n\n13. oubli^ \n\n14. lu \n\n15. parl6 \n\n16. 6crit \n\n17. perdu \n.18. donn6 \n\n\n\nTO GO \n\nPresent \n\nI go \n\nHe, she goes \nWe go \nYou go \nThey go \n\n\n\nALLER \n\nPresent \n\nJe vais \nII, elle va \nNous allons \nVous allez \nUs, elles vont \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n293 \n\n\n\nFuturo \n\n\n\nFuturum \n\n\n\nHo \nHa \n\nAbl \n\nAvete \n\nHanuo \n\n\n\nAvr5 \n\n\n\n\n\n\nIch werde haben \n\n\nAvr^ \n\n\n\n\n\n\nEr, sie wird haben \n\n\nAvremo \n\n\n\n\n\n\nWir werden haben \n\n\nAvrete \n\n\n\n\n\n\nSie werden haben \n\n\nAvrannc \n\n\n\xc2\xbb \n\n\n\n\nSie werden haben \n\n\nPassato \n\n\n\n\nPerfektum \n\n\n\n\n\' 1. \n\n\navuto \n\n\n\n\n\n\n1. gehabt \n\n\n\n\n2. \n\n\nmangiato \n\n\n\n\n\n\n2. gegessen \n\n\n\n\n3. \n\n\nbevuto \n\n\n\n\n\n\n3. getrunken \n\n\n\n\n4. \n\n\nveduto \n\n\n\n\n\n\n4. gesehen \n\n\n\n\n5. \n\n\ndetto \n\n\n\n\n\n\n5. gesagt \n\n\n\n\n6. \n\n\nfatto \n\n\n\n\n\n\n6. gethan \n\n\nmo \xe2\x96\xa0 \n\n3 \n\n\n7. \n\n8. \n\n9. \n10. \n11. \n12. \n\n\ncomandato \n\nmandato \n\nchiamato \n\npagato \n\nlasciato \n\ndomandato \n\n\nIch habe \nEr, sie hat \nWirhaben ^ \nSie haben \nsie haben \n\n\n7. bestellt \n\n8. geschickt \n\n9. gerufen \n\n10. bezahlt \n\n11. gelassen \n\n12. gefragt \n\n\n\n\n13. \n\n\ndimenticato \n\n\n\n\n\n\n13. vergessen \n\n\n\n\n14. \n\n\nletto \n\n\n\n\n\n\n14. gelesen \n\n\n\n\n15. \n\n\nparlato \n\n\n\n\n\n\n15. gesprochen \n\n\n\n\n16. \n\n\nscritto \n\n\n\n\n\n\n16. geschrieben \n\n\n\n\n17. \n\n\nperduto \n\n\n\n\n\n\n17, verloren \n\n\n\n\n.18. \n\n\ndate \n\n\n\n\n\n\n. 18. gegeben \n\n\nANDARB \n\n\n\n\nGEHEN \n\n\nPresente \n\n\n\n\nPrdsens \n\n\nVado \n\n\n\n\n\n\nIch gehe \n\n\nVa \n\n\n\n\n\n\nEr, sie geht \n\n\nAndiamo \n\n\n\n\nWir gehen \n\n\nAndate \n\n\n\n\nSie gehen \n\n\n\\ \n\n\n\'\'a.nno \n\n\n\n\nSie geh \n\n\nen \n\n\n\n294 \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\nFuture \nI shall go \nHe, she will go \nWe shall go \nYou will go \nThey will go \n\nPast \nI have gone \n\nHe, she has gone \n\nWe have gone \nYou have gone \n\nThey have gone \n\n\n\nFutur \nJ\'irai \nII, elle ira \nNous irons \nVous irez \nlis, elles iront \n\nPasse \nJe suis all6 \xe2\x80\x94 all6e ^ \n\nf II est all6 \n\n1 Elle est all^e \nNous sommes all^s \xe2\x80\x94 allies \nVous etes all^s \xe2\x80\x94 allies \nJ lis sont all^s \n\nI Elles sont allies \n\n\n\nTO COME \n\nPresent \nI come \n\nHe, she comes \nWe come \nYou come \nThey come \n\nFuture \nI shall come \nHe, she will come \nWe will come \nYou will come \nThey will come \n\nPast \nI have come \nHe, she has come \nWe have come \nYou have come \n\nThey have come \n\n\n\nVENIR \n\nPresent \nJe viens \nII, elle vient \nNous venons \nVous venez \nlis, elles viennent \n\nFutur \nJe viendrai \nII, elle viendra \nNous viendrons \nVous viendrez \nlis, elles viendront \n\nPasse \nJe suis venu \xe2\x80\x94 venue \nII est venu \xe2\x80\x94 Elle est venue \nNous sommes venus \xe2\x80\x94 venues \nVous etes venus \xe2\x80\x94 venues \nr lis sont venus \n1 Elles sont venues \n\n\n\n1 Masculine aud feuiiniue. \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHKASES \n\n\n\n295 \n\n\n\nFuturo \nAndr6 \nAndr^ \nAnderemo \nAnderete \nAndranno \n\nPassato \nSono andato \xe2\x80\x94 andata ^ \n\nE andato \xe2\x80\x94 andata \n\nSiamo andati \xe2\x80\x94 andate \nSiete andati \n\nSono andati \n\n\n\nFuturum \nIcli werde gehen \nEr, sie wird gehen \nWir werden gehen \nSie werden gehen \nSie werden gehen \n\nPerfektum \nIch bin gegangen \n\nEr, sie ist gegangen \n\nWir sind gegangen \nSie sind gegangen \n\nSie sind gegangen \n\n\n\nVENIKB \n\nPresente \n\nVengo \n\nViene \n\nVeniamo \n\nVenite \n\nVeugono \n\nFuturo \nVerr5 \nVerr^ \nVerremo \nVerrete \nVerranno \n\nPassato \nSono venuto \xe2\x80\x94 venuta \nE venuto \xe2\x80\x94 venuta \nSiamo venuti \xe2\x80\x94 venute \nSiete venuti \n\nSono venuti \n\n\n\nKOMMEN \n\nPrdsens \nIch komme \nEr, sie kommt \nWir kommen \nSie kommen \nSie kommen \n\nFuturum \nIch werde kommen \nEr, sie wird kommen \nWir werden kommen \nSie werden kommen \nSie werden kommen \n\nPerfektum \nIch bin gekommen \nEr, sie ist gekommen \nWir sind gekommen \nSie sind gekommen \n\nSie sind gekommen \n\n\n\n1 Masculine and feminine. \n\n\n\n296 \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n\n\nNumbers \n\n\n\n\nNomhres \n\n\n1. \n\n\nOne. \n\n\n1. \n\n\nUn. \n\n\n2. \n\n\nTwo. \n\n\n2. \n\n\nDeux. \n\n\n3. \n\n\nThree. \n\n\n3. \n\n\nTrois. \n\n\n4. \n\n\nFour. \n\n\n4. \n\n\nQuatre. \n\n\n5. \n\n\nFive. \n\n\n6. \n\n\nCinq, \n\n\n6. \n\n\nSix. \n\n\n6. \n\n\nSix. \n\n\n7. \n\n\nSeven. \n\n\n7. \n\n\nSept. \n\n\n8. \n\n\nEight. \n\n\n8. \n\n\nHuit. \n\n\n9. \n\n\nNine. \n\n\n9. \n\n\nNeuf. \n\n\n10. \n\n\nTen. \n\n\n10. \n\n\nDix. \n\n\n11. \n\n\nEleven. \n\n\n11. \n\n\nOnze. \n\n\n12. \n\n\nTv^^elve. \n\n\n12. \n\n\nDouze. \n\n\n13. \n\n\nThirteen. \n\n\n13. \n\n\nTreize. \n\n\n14. \n\n\nFourteen. \n\n\n14. \n\n\nQuatorze. \n\n\n15. \n\n\nFifteen. \n\n\n15. \n\n\nQuinze. \n\n\n16. \n\n\nSixteen. \n\n\n16. \n\n\nSeize. \n\n\n17. \n\n\nSeventeen. \n\n\n17. \n\n\nDix-sept. \n\n\n18. \n\n\nEighteen. \n\n\n18. \n\n\nDix-huit. \n\n\n19. \n\n\nNineteen. \n\n\n19. \n\n\nDix-neuf. \n\n\n20. \n\n\nTwenty. \n\n\n20. \n\n\nVingt. \n\n\n21. \n\n\nTwenty-one. \n\n\n21. \n\n\nVingt et un. \n\n\n22. \n\n\nTwenty-two. \n\n\n22. \n\n\nVingt-deux. \n\n\n30. \n\n\nThirty. \n\n\n30. \n\n\nTrente. \n\n\n40. \n\n\nForty. \n\n\n40. \n\n\nQuarante. \n\n\n50. \n\n\nFifty. \n\n\n60. \n\n\nCinquante. \n\n\n60. \n\n\nSixty. \n\n\n60. \n\n\nSoixante. \n\n\n70. \n\n\nSeventy. \n\n\n70. \n\n\nSoixante-dix. \n\n\n80. \n\n\nEighty. \n\n\n80. \n\n\nQuatre-vingt. \n\n\n90. \n\n\nNinety. \n\n\n90. \n\n\nQuatre-vingt-dix. \n\n\n100. \n\n\nOne hundred. \n\n\n100. \n\n\nCent. \n\n\n200. \n\n\nTwo hundred. \n\n\n200. \n\n\nDeux cents. \n\n\n1,000. \n\n\nA thousand. \n\n\n1,000. \n\n\nMille. \n\n\n2,000. \n\n\nTwo thousand. \n\n\n2,000. \n\n\nDeux mille. \n\n\n,000,000. \n\n\nA million. \n\n\n1,000,000. \n\n\nUn million. \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n297 \n\n\n\nNumeri \n\n\nNummern \n\n\n1. Uno. \n\n\n1. Eins. \n\n\n2. Due. \n\n\n2. Zwei. \n\n\n3. Tre. \n\n\n3. Drei. \n\n\n4. Quattro. \n\n\n4. Vier. \n\n\n5. Cinque. \n\n\n5. Ftinf. \n\n\n6. Sei. \n\n\n6. Sechs. \n\n\n7. Sette. \n\n\n7. Sieben. \n\n\n8. Otto. \n\n\n8. AcM. \n\n\n9. Nove. \n\n\n9. Neun. \n\n\n10. Dieci. \n\n\n10. Zehn. \n\n\n11. Undici. \n\n\n11. Elf. \n\n\n12. Dodici. \n\n\n12. Zwolf. \n\n\n13. Tredici. \n\n\n13. Dreizehn. \n\n\n14. Quattordici. \n\n\n14. Vierzehn. \n\n\n15. Quindici. \n\n\n15. Funfzeliu. \n\n\n16. Sedici. \n\n\n16. Sechzehn. \n\n\n17. Diciassette. \n\n\n17. Siebenzehn. \n\n\n18. Diciotto. \n\n\n18. Acbtzehn. \n\n\n19. Diecinove. \n\n\n19. Neunzehn. \n\n\n20. Venti. \n\n\n20. Zwanzig. \n\n\n21. Vent\'uno. \n\n\n21. Einundzwanzig. \n\n\n22. Venti-due. \n\n\n22. Zweiundzwanzig. \n\n\n30. Trenta. \n\n\n30. Dreissig. \n\n\n40. Quaranta. \n\n\n40. Vierzig. \n\n\n60. Cinquanta. \n\n\n50. Ftinfzig. \n\n\n60. Sessanta. \n\n\n60. Sechzig. \n\n\n70. Settanta. \n\n\n70. Siebenzig. \n\n\n80. Ottanta. \n\n\n80. Achtzig. \n\n\n90. Novanta. \n\n\n90. Neunzig. \n\n\n100. Cento. \n\n\n100. Hundert. \n\n\n200. Due cento. \n\n\n200. Zweihundert. \n\n\n1,000. Mille. \n\n\n1,000. EinTausend. \n\n\n2,000. Duemila. \n\n\n2,000. Zwei Tausend \n\n\n,000,000. Millione. \n\n\n1000,000. Eine Million. \n\n\n\n298 \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\nDays of the Week \n\n\nJours de la Semaine \n\n\n1. Sunday. \n\n\n1. Dimanche. \n\n\n2. Monday. \n\n\n2. Lundi. \n\n\n3. Tuesday. \n\n\n3. Mardi. \n\n\n4. Wednesday. \n\n\n4. Mercredi. \n\n\n6. Thursday. \n\n\n5. Jeudi. \n\n\n6. Friday. \n\n\n6. Vendredi. \n\n\n7. Saturday. \n\n\n7. Samedi. \n\n\nMonths \n\n\nLes Mois \n\n\n1, January. \n\n\n1. Janvier. \n\n\n2. February. \n\n\n2. F^vrier. \n\n\n3. March. \n\n\n3. Mars. \n\n\n4. April. \n\n\n4. Avril. \n\n\n5. May. \n\n\n6. Mai. \n\n\n6. June. \n\n\n6. Juin. \n\n\n7. July. \n\n\n7. Juillet. \n\n\n8. August. \n\n\n8. Aout. \n\n\n9. September. \n\n\n9. Septembre. \n\n\n10. October. \n\n\n10. Octobre. \n\n\n11. November. \n\n\n11. Novembre. \n\n\n12. December. \n\n\n12. D^cembre. \n\n\nSeasons \n\n\nLes Saisons \n\n\n1. Spring. \n\n\n1. Le printemps. \n\n\n2. Summer. \n\n\n2. L\'^t6. \n\n\n3. Autumn. \n\n\n3. L\'automne. \n\n\n4. Winter. \n\n\n4. L\'hiver. \n\n\nFestivals \n\n\nFetes \n\n\n1. Advent. \n\n\n1. L\'Avent. \n\n\n2. Christmas. \n\n\n2. Noel. \n\n\n3. Epiphany. \n\n\n3. L\'Epiphanie (Jour des \n\n\n\n\nKois). \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n299 \n\n\n\nGiorni delta Settimana \n\n1. Domenica. \n\n2. Lunedi. \n\n3. Martedi. \n\n4. Mercoledi. \n\n5. Giovedi. \n\n6. Venerdi. \n\n7. Sabato. \n\n\n\nDie Tage der Woche \n\n1. Sonntag. \n\n2. Moiitag. \n\n3. Dienstag. \n\n4. Mittwoch. \n6. Donnerstag. \n\n6. Freitag. \n\n7. Sonnabend (Samstag). \n\n\n\nMese \n\n1. Gennaio. \n\n2. Febbraio. \n\n3. Marzo. \n\n4. Aprile. \n\n5. Maggio. \n\n6. Giugno. \n\n7. Luglio. \n\n8. Agosto. \n\n9. Settembre. \n\n10. Ottobre. \n\n11. Novembre. \n\n12. Dicembre. \n\n\n\nDie Monate \n\n\n\n1. Januar. \n\n2. Februar. \n\n3. Marz. \n\n4. April. \n6. Mai, \n\n6. Juni. \n\n7. Juli. \n\n8. August. \n\n9. September. \n\n10. October. \n\n11. November. \n\n12. Dezember. \n\n\n\nStagioni \n\n1. La prim a vera. \n\n2. L\' estate. \n\n3. L\'autunno. \n\n4. L\'inverno. \n\n\n\nDie Jahreszeiten \n\n1. Der Frtihling. \n\n2. Der Sommer. \n\n3. Der Herbst. \n\n4. Der Winter. \n\n\n\nGiorni di Festa \n\n1 . Avvento. \n\n2. Natale. \n\n3. Epifania. \n\n\n\nDie Kirchenfeste \n\n1. Advent. \n\n2. Weihnachten (Christ- \n\ntag). \n\n3. Epiphania (Erscheinung \n\nChristi) . \n\n\n\n300 \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n4. Shrove Tuesday. \n\n5. Ash Wednesday. \n\n6. Lent. \n\n7. Holy Week. \n\n8. Good Friday. \n\n9. Easter. \n\n10. Ascension. \n\n11. Whitsunday. \n\n12. Assumption (Aug. 15). \n\n13. Corpus Christi. \n\n14. All Saints\' Day (Nov. 1) . \n\n15. All Souls\' Day (Nov. 2). \n\n\n\n4. Mardi Gras. \n\n5. Mercredi des Cendres. \n\n6. Le Careme. \n\n7. La Semaine Sainte. \n\n8. Vendredi-Saint. \n\n9. Paques. \n\n10. L\'Ascencion. \n\n11. Pentecdte. \n\n12. L\'Assomption. \n\n13. La Fete-Dieu. \n\n14. La Toussaint. \n\n15. Jour des Ames (Jour des \n\nMorts). \n\n\n\nSOME USEFUL PHRASES \n\n\n\n301 \n\n\n\n4. Martedi grasso. \n\n6. Le Ceneri. \n\n6. Qiiaresima. \n\n7. La Settimana Santa. \n\n8. Venerdi Santo. \n\n9. Pasqua. \n\n10. Ascenzione. \n\nIL Pentecoste. \n\n12. Assunta. \n\n13. Corpus Domini. \n\n14. Ognissanti. \n\n15. Giorno del Morti. \n\n\n\n4. Fastnacht. \n\n5. Aschermittwoch. \n\n6. Fasten. \n\n7. Charwoche. \n\n8. Cliarfreitag. \n\n9. Ostein. \n\n10. Himmelfahrt. \n\n11. Pfingsten. \n\n12. Maria Himmelfahrt. \n\n13. Frohnleichnam. \n\n14. Aller Heiligen. \n\n15. Aller Seelen. \n\n\n\nHOW WOMEN MAY EARN \nA LIVING \n\nA Handbook of Occupations for "Women \nBy HELEN CHURCHILL CANDEE \n\n\n\nHalf Leather. i6mo. $i.oo \n\n\n\n" After an introduction full of sympathy and encouragement for \nall female workers, there are chapters devoted to household indus- \ntries, boarding-house management, trained nursing, trade, oppor- \ntunities in shops, the culture of flowers, typewriting and stenography, \nadvertising and insurance agency, parlor lectures, applied design, \nteaching school, hack writing, the stage, the learned professions, and \nalmost every conceivable employment by which women of various \ntalents and inclinations may earn an honorable livehhood. Mrs. \nCandee writes very sensibly on all these topics, and every young \nwoman who is seeking her true vocation may read this book with \nprofit." \xe2\x80\x94 Buffalo Argus. \n\n"The authoress details the abilities essential to the several ways \nof labor, volunteering impressive advice put effectively. The book \nis practical and shows a wide and correct knowledge of the various \ndepartments dealt with, and bristles with hints that would not readily \noccur to the uninitiated. Her easy, entertaining manner of present- \ning cold, hard facts will make the book popular with the class for \nwhich it is intended, \xe2\x80\x94 \'all those women who labor through neces- \nsity and not caprice.\' " \xe2\x80\x94 Worcester Evening Gazette. \n\n\n\nTHE MACMILLAN COMPANY \n\n66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK \n\n\n\n/ \n\nHOME NURSING -Vj^ \n\nModem Scientific Methods for the Sick Room \nBy EVELEEN HARRISON \n\n\n\nHalf Leather. i2mo. $i.oo \n\n\n\nIn this little work the simplest methods for hygienic nursing have \nbeen given, including free ventilation, perfect cleanliness, care of the \nsick-room, fever nursing, the best form of nourishment, and many \nother suggestions for the comfort of the patient, which may easily \ncome within the reach of every home, no matter how modest or \nsimple it may be. \n\nAll technical terms have been purposely excluded, so that the \ndirections may be easily understood by every one, and only the \nsimplest home remedies have been recommended in the absence \nof or while awaiting the arrival of the family physician. \n\nOne chapter has been devoted to a full description of the way to \nprepare for a surgical operation at home, in the absence of a trained \nnurse, and some rules to follow in the after care of the patient. As \nfood plays such an important part in disease, the last few pages have \nbeen devoted to the diet of patients suffering from various ailments ; \nand some simple recipes in preparing dainty dishes to tempt the \nappetite during convalescence. For convenient reference, the \nrecipes have been arranged under the headings of the various \ndiseases, where they will be found of most service. \n\n\n\nTHE MACMILLAN COMPANY \n\n66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK \n\n\n\n'