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ADVENTURE] S OF A ORE EN DRAGON 
 
ADVENTURES 
 
 OF A 
 
 GREEN DRAGON 
 
 T. M. O. 
 
 
 PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION BY 
 AUBURN PUBLISHING CO. 
 
 1908 
 
(D-j 
 
 LIBRARY Of CONGRESS 
 Two Coijies Received 
 
 OCT 29,1908 
 
 Copyright tntry 
 
 CLASS CC aXc, No, 
 
 COPY 8. 
 
A FEAV WORDS OF DEDICATION 
 
 To those Avho shared the Oreen Dragon's peril- 
 ous and peculiar adventures this little volume is 
 dedicated. 
 
 H. S. B., K. U., D. M. O., C. D. O., 
 
 and last but not least the careful, patient, and 
 unselfish Keeper of the Dragon, 
 
 R. I. G. 
 
 (Thej^ may not ajjpreciate the compliment, 
 but a book — even a booklet — must be dedicated to 
 somebody in order to be thoroughly respectable; 
 so whether they like it or not this volume is 
 dedicated to them). 
 
THE PUBLISHER'S EXCUSE 
 
 In these days no book should be published with- 
 out a proper and satisfactory excuse, expressed 
 or implied. It is hard to find one for this. It is 
 not wise; it is not witty; it contributes nothing 
 to the sum of human knowledge ; it has no letter 
 of introduction from the President of the United 
 States; it is not a light and frivolous novel of 
 adventure, nor one of Biblical title and porten- 
 tous social seriousness. In short to the casual 
 and superficial observer it seems to have not even 
 a poor excuse for being. Yet it has one. 
 
 These letters, written during a brief holiday;, 
 to such friends as could be reached through the 
 columns of The Auburn Citizen^ found a pleas- 
 ant and quite unexpected reception ; for upon liis 
 return the writer received so many requests for 
 their reprinting that he was not proof against 
 the flattery implied. If anyone wants any par- 
 ticular thing from a " literary man '' (either with 
 or without a wooden leg — in other words, pro- 
 fessional or ^^amachoor,'') — of course he ought to 
 have it; that is the first principle of literary 
 Democracy as preached by our dailj^ journals. 
 
 Therefore, for those who wish to read or re-read 
 these letters — here they are. Them as don't want 
 'em needn't have 'em. The writer realizes as well 
 as others that his wares are not for all markets. 
 
A FEW WORDS BY WAY OF PREFACE 
 
 We called it the Green Dragon. Not that there 
 was any particular sense in the name — except 
 that it certainly was green; but as Miss Betsy 
 Trotwood might have observed, " In the name of 
 Heaven, why — Dragon?" 
 
 The answer is, of course, that we had to call it 
 something. The French academy has gravely 
 decided that all such modern fabulous monsters 
 are of masculine gender, so that it must be a 
 " he; " and the dear friend to whom we referred 
 the matter, after he had been led forth for her 
 inspection, quietly remarked, " What name? 
 Why, the Green Dragon, of course.'' So the 
 
 Green Dragon^ 
 
 of course he was and is. 
 And thereby hangs a tale. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 At Sea 15 
 
 Exeter and Salisbury 21 
 
 A Chapter of Accidents 30 
 
 Up to London 41 
 
 London 50 
 
 Around and About England 61 
 
 The St. Albans Pageant 71 
 
 Across the Channel 80 
 
 Paris, (and a Sermon) 93 
 
 A Cross Country Run 102 
 
 Churches and Castles 109 
 
 The Joan of Arc Country. 121 
 
 Entering Switzerland 139 
 
 Leaving Switzerland 149 
 
 Back Through Prance 160 
 
 The Dragon's Last Run 170 
 
 Finale 174 
 
ADVENTUKES OF A GliEEN DIIAGON 
 
 AT SEA. 
 
 S. S. Philadelphia, 
 
 Friday, June 28, 1907. 
 
 Thij^, it is only fair to ntate at once, is not 
 chapter first of the Green Dragon's adventures, 
 because we do not know at present just where 
 the Dragon is. He sailed from New York before 
 we did. And incidentally he went off with all 
 our steamer rugs, which he liad carried safelj^ to 
 New York for us, and just as safely (we hope) 
 has carried to Southampton packed carefully in 
 the same case Avith himself. For which piece of 
 thoughtlessness we should have blamed the Dra- 
 gon more seriously than we do, had not a kind 
 " Lady from Philadelphia '' come to our aid, — 
 as you remember she always used to do with the 
 unfortunate Peterkins; with which family I re- 
 gret to say our present party has much in com- 
 mon. 
 
 But we have hardly needed our own rugs or 
 those of the Lady from Philadelphia on this voy- 
 age. Such weather was surely never seen on the 
 Atlantic before; warm, pleasant sunshine, soft 
 air, blue seas almost as smooth as the traditional 
 
 15 
 
ADVENTURES OP A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 mill pond; — one is almost tempted to take back 
 all the disagreeable remarks one has ever made 
 about ocean travel. And when you add to all 
 these things a tableful of pleasant companions — 
 our own six and four other friends — ^you can 
 readilj^ understand the situation. Of course, 
 clouds we have had — during one day and part of 
 another ; a dash or two of rain ; two days of mild 
 rolling in the w^ake of a storm, account of which 
 had, been sent us the night before by wireless 
 telegraphy from another vessel; but these have 
 served only to enhance the beauty of such a day 
 as Tuesday. 
 
 It has been the fate of some of us to travel 
 many miles by sea in the course of our lives, but 
 never have we seen a more wonderful day. The 
 ocean level as a lake, and only ruffled by the light 
 breezes which stirred the waters at times to a 
 mere ripple, and then again to a rough surface 
 of broken blues; a slight haze about the horizon; 
 and the sea gulls, darting streaks of white, flying 
 hither and thither. All day the same soft air ; all 
 day the constant changes of light clouds and 
 gentle shifting winds. 
 
 Just as we Avent down to dinner the sun was 
 setting in a glory of pink and gold behind a bank 
 of dark cloud; and as we came back to the deck 
 the full moon had risen into a sky pale blue 
 above the dark blue water, while delicate brown 
 
 16 
 
AT SEA. 
 
 clouds edged with opal and yellow, drifted across 
 the sky, and the waters rippled a golden path- 
 way to the rising moon. 
 
 But why attempt to describe a sunset? or 
 why, in fact, write an account of a sea voyage at 
 all? It is such an old story to most people. 
 Everyone has either tried it or read about it until 
 it has become threadbare. There are some queer 
 people who claim that they enjoy a sea voyage; I 
 have always believed they were humbugs. At the 
 best it is a bore; and at the worst it is — some- 
 thing, the name of which is not usually spoken 
 in polite society. 
 
 But as I have shown, this voyage is the excep- 
 tion; — agreeable company and fine weather can 
 make even a sea voyage pleasant. 
 
 Our boat is not especially attractive. The 
 staterooms we occupy are small and crowded; 
 but fortunately they are upon the upper deck, 
 where there are more accommodations than on 
 any other boat I was ever on. With a port-hole 
 open all the time fresh air can be had, — but there 
 is no other method of ventilation ; in this respect 
 the rooms on the lower decks are better. The 
 service is good, and the food very poor. Perhaps 
 it is partly owing to the latter fact that none of 
 us have been seasick; — in fact all of us feel ex- 
 
 17 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 traordinarily well — we do not eat too much. 
 With the fruit which we brought, and the pas- 
 teurized cream produced on the second day by 
 one of our friends, and which has kept sweet all 
 the way over, we have supplemented the regular 
 food to our great advantage and comfort. 
 
 Our fellow passengers? Well, with the excep- 
 tion of the friends at our own jolly table and a 
 few others, we are not favorably impressed; so 
 perhaps the less that is said the better. Taken 
 as a whole we seem to have fallen in with about 
 the most discouraging lot of humanity that could 
 well be imagined. It was Dr. Johnson who 
 stoutly maintained the superior advantages of a 
 sojourn in jail over a sea voyage; arguing that 
 on the whole you were freer and had greater va- 
 riety, besides other advantages as to companion- 
 ship. If Dr. Johnson could have scanned our 
 ship's company, far be it from me to maintain 
 that he would have changed his opinion. We 
 have variety, certainly; and although we know 
 variety is the spice of life — ^yet there is a choice, 
 even in spices. 
 
 But how about the Green Dragon? Well, you 
 see we don't know anything about him. We hope 
 he's in Southampton by this time waiting for us ; 
 and that we shall catch him there when we arrive. 
 
 18 
 
AT SEA. 
 
 Then apparenttyj according to the guide books, 
 Ave shall have to get various registers and per- 
 mits, and have him thoroughly decorated with 
 red tape hj the Circumlocution Office, before we 
 can start. But this is one of the advantages of 
 trying something new — a delightful uncertainty 
 lies before you. As Mr. Dooley sagely remarks 
 about the owner of an automobile, he doesn't 
 know whether he will land in the poor house or 
 in jail; — and this uncertainty gives zest to the 
 experience. 
 
 I had nearly forgotten to mention the one new 
 thing about a sea voyage — the Marconi wireless 
 telegraph. As one paces the deck outside a cer- 
 tain cabin one hears fizzing and spluttering going 
 on inside. From the roof of the cabin wires go 
 up to other wires reaching from mast to mast — 
 and that is all apparently. Yet with this slight 
 apparatus we have been in touch with the Ameri- 
 can shore, with passing ships many miles away, 
 or with the English shore, ever since we started. 
 A White Star Liner going west wired us of the 
 storm she had been having, and in the afternoon 
 of the following day we were in the wake of the 
 storm. A few telegrams have been posted up at 
 the door of the saloon; and one gentleman from 
 mid-ocean telegraphed to his wife in London, and 
 
 19 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 received an answer within three hours. A new 
 marvel is already becoming staled to common- 
 place, and the sea is no longer lonesome. 
 
 But this new wonder of ocean travel does not 
 affect the ordinary life of the voyage. The old 
 game goes on as it has for thirty-five years at 
 least — I myself can vouch for it that long — eat- 
 ing and sleeping, reading and talking, betting 
 and gambling in the smoking room, flirting on 
 the upper deck; with a certain queer sub-con- 
 scious feeling all the time that one has never 
 existed anywhere else for years and years — and 
 will continue so indefinitely for years to come. 
 
 But in reality the end is at hand ; — to-morrow 
 we expect to arrive in England, where our first 
 duty will be to find the Green Dragon. 
 
II 
 
 EXETER AND SALISBURY 
 
 Southampton, 
 
 Monday, July 1, 1907. 
 
 Mark Twain, naming his book ^^A Tramp 
 Abroad," proceeds to describe his journeyings by 
 every manner of conveyance — steamer, carriage, 
 horseback, railway, even a raft — everything ex- 
 cept tramping. On the same principle after open- 
 ing these adventures by telling of a sea voyage 
 without the Dragon, I must now proceed to relate 
 our journey from Plymouth to Southampton by 
 rail. 
 
 When we left New York we supposed we were 
 going to Southampton direct ; later we found that 
 the steamship stopped first at Plymouth, then 
 crossed to Cherbourg, and then came back again 
 to Southampton — a rather ridiculous arrange- 
 ment, for if Plymouth, why Southampton? And 
 if Southampton, why Plymouth? 
 
 A day or so before we sighted land it became 
 evident that we should arrive at Plymouth on 
 Saturday morning; and that meant that South- 
 ampton would not be reached before late Satur- 
 day evening. On Sunday in England, of course 
 one can do nothing toward getting a dragon into 
 
 21 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 commission, even if he be a green one. It seemed 
 sensible, therefore, to abandon the ship at Plym- 
 outh, spend Saturday afternoon at Exeter and 
 Sundaj^ at Salisbury, and thus gain practically 
 tvro days. 
 
 Saturday morning found us therefore on deck, 
 with such of the passengers as were going ashore, 
 enjoying the beauty of Plymouth harbor, and 
 prepared to begin our trip without the Green 
 Dragon, who was presumably reposing in his box 
 at Southampton. 
 
 Plymouth harbor is a beautiful place at any 
 time, with bold hills and deep valleys surround- 
 ing it, with the city looking very fresh and white 
 and clean as it rises from the blue waters of the 
 bay, and with the noble estate of Mount Edge- 
 comb on its promontory amid fine trees and 
 lovely gardens showing all imaginable shades of 
 green. But as we vsaw it all, bathed in sunshine 
 while a superb mass of dark rain clouds came 
 sweeping down from the northeast, it looked like 
 a typical painting by Constable or Turner. In 
 fact wherever you go in England you constantly 
 see landscape effects which you have always sup- 
 posed lay only in the imaginations of painters. 
 
 After a short delay at the customs for a merely 
 perfunctory look at our luggage, we are on board 
 
 22 
 
EXETER AND SALISBURY. 
 
 the train and off for onr first taste of England. 
 Everything is new, interesting and delightful; 
 the cars so different from our own and so com- 
 fortable, — with our jolly party just filling two 
 compartments adjoining; the city of Plymouth 
 and its rows upon rows of little houses, with 
 what Tennyson calls " roofs of slated hideous- 
 ness;" the wild flowers growing in every cranny 
 of the rocks, every crack in the walls, every chink 
 in the tiles — to say nothing of the glowing gar- 
 dens and the roses climbing over the walls. Eng- 
 land may well hold the rose as its emblem, for 
 roses are everywhere — of all colors, and more 
 lovely than ever this damp and cold season. 
 
 The English towns are ugly no doubt, but it is 
 a different kind of ugliness from ours. Our town 
 ugliness is the ugliness of dirt, confusion and 
 the decaying lumber of back yards ; this ugliness 
 is the ugliness of discolored, yellowish brick and 
 hard slate roofs. But as a rule the English town 
 ugliness is clean, and therefore more tolerable 
 than ours. In fact as we went through Plymouth 
 we were reminded of " Spotless Town '' in the 
 Sapolio advertisements. Tlie whole place, as one 
 sees it from the railway, looks a good deal like 
 those ridiculous toy villages in the Noah's Ark 
 period of our infancy. 
 
 23 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 But when one gets out into the country, then 
 one begins to appreciate the beauty of England. 
 The glory of the green jfields and hedges; the 
 narrow lanes winding through the hills and bor- 
 dered by banks and bushes and trees; the old 
 thatched cottages and farm buildings grouped 
 in picturesque confusion; the charming little 
 country churches and parsonages; the views 
 down into cultivated valleys and up over the 
 rough hills of Dartmoor. We skirt Dartmoor on 
 the west and north , and so come running down to 
 Exeter. 
 
 In the meantime luncheon has been served on 
 the train. Such a good luncheon and so well 
 served; both service and food being far better 
 than we find in dining cars at home. 
 
 At Exeter we leave our hand luggage at the 
 station and walk through the quaint and narrow 
 streets until we find ourselves in front of the 
 town's chief treasure — its cathedral. 
 
 Exeter is not one of the great cathedrals, 
 but it is of considerable beauty and interest. 
 First built in Norman times it still shows traces 
 of round-arched architecture in the two great 
 towers which rise above the transepts. The rest 
 of the church is Gothic of the period called in 
 England " decorated/' which means construction 
 
 24 
 
EXETER AND SALISBURY. 
 
 of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. The 
 window traceries are fine and varied, and the 
 sculpture about the west door of remarkable in- 
 terest. 
 
 The interior is more striking than the exterior 
 — having a number of interesting and beautiful 
 details. Among others a magnificent bishop's 
 throne carved in oak, of the early fifteenth cen- 
 tury. The verger told us that it had cost the 
 cathedral tAvelve pounds — eight for material and 
 four for workmanship — a price which certainly 
 is an argument to show that it was produced in 
 an age of faith. No words can give an idea of 
 the wonder and beauty of the carving which rises 
 in pinnacle after pinnacle of delicate lace-work 
 up almost to the vaulting of the choir. 
 
 What it is that impels one after admiring some 
 beautiful thing in art or nature — after listening 
 to some great opera, studying some wonderful 
 cathedral, or looking at some glorious view — to 
 crave food, is difficult to explain to one's satis- 
 faction ; and it does not matter anyway. Accord- 
 ing to Emerson " Beauty is its own excuse for 
 being;" and certainly English strawberries and 
 Devonshire clotted cream are their own excuse 
 for eating. 
 
 25 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 Far be it from me to deny that the United 
 States is the greatest country in the world; but 
 when it comes to old cathedrals and new straw- 
 berries it must simply be confessed that we are 
 not " in it/' Doubtless we could raise such ber- 
 ries, but doubtless we don't. In flavor especially, 
 but in size as well, the English strawberry ex- 
 ceeds anything we ever tasted in our country. 
 It is interesting to note also that the berries are 
 sold by the pound instead of the quart; and 
 that the price is regulated by the flavor and not 
 the size. Friends here tell us that owing to the 
 cold and rainy season strawberries are not as fine 
 as usual. If this is so it is lucky for the health 
 of our party that we have come in an off year. 
 Judging by our performances at Exeter with 
 Devonshire cream and the present season's straw- 
 berries, I should decline to be responsible for 
 results if the fruit were any more delicious. 
 
 From Exeter another delightful ride through 
 lovely country brought us to Salisbury, where 
 we put up for the night at the White Hart. — Oh, 
 these delightful English names! — suggestive at 
 every turn of Dickens, Thackeray and Trollope. 
 And especially the inn names! One expects to 
 run across Sam Weller any moment; and Mr. 
 Pickwick might just as well have got into the 
 
 26 
 
EXETER AND SALISBURY. 
 
 Avrong room and encountered the middle-aged 
 lady in yellow curl j)apers at the White Hart in 
 Salisbury, as at the White Horse in Ipswich, 
 where, as I remember, the event actually did 
 occur. 
 
 After dinner we strolled out into the twilight 
 to take a look at the cathedral. We could not go 
 to bed until we had seen that wonderful spire 
 rising into the silent evening sky. So we turned 
 under the old Gothic gateway into the close, or 
 cathedral precincts, and soon were standing face 
 to face with one of the most perfect of all earth- 
 ly things — the view of Salisbury cathedral from 
 the northeast. I shall not attempt to describe 
 it — that has been done so often, and it has been 
 so often pictured that most people know its out- 
 lines ; but until they have actually seen it no one 
 can comprehend the exquisite loveliness of the 
 level green carpet from which the church rises, 
 and the noble trees that are grouped about the 
 picture, the impressiveness of the gTeat walls of 
 masonry which fall into such beautiful relations 
 of line with line and mass with mass, or the glory 
 of that wonderful spire — one of the most daring 
 and poetical of all the architectural feats of tlie 
 middle ages. 
 
 27 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 Is the scene more beautiful by night or by day? 
 Who cares. Happy we who can see it at both 
 times. 
 
 We spent Sunday at Salisbury, looking at the 
 cathedral in the forenoon, and in the afternoon 
 walking out to Old Sarum. 
 
 Old Sarum is not, as the sound might imply, the 
 name of some worthy ancient peasant dame, but 
 is the original Salisbury, perched up on top of a 
 high hill. Here was the old British town; here 
 the Romans placed a fortified camp; here the 
 Normans built massive walls and towers and 
 a well-nigh impregnable castle ; here was erected 
 the first cathedral; from here, when it was no 
 longer necessary to fortify the house of God from 
 the violence of man, the churchmen determined 
 to move to the pleasanter and more convenient 
 valley below ; and from here the rest of the popu- 
 lation followed, until the old city on the hill was 
 left bare and desolate, the stone crumbling and 
 the walls decaying, until walls, castle, church 
 and cottage were utterly obliterated. Curiously 
 enough, however, Old Sarum, while no longer 
 inhabited by man, continued to send representa- 
 tives to parliament through several centuries; 
 even down to the passage of the great reform bill 
 of 1832 which wiped out so many other " rotten 
 
 28 
 
EXETER AND SALISBURY. 
 
 boroughs.'' Old Sarum was a most typical and 
 flagrant example of a rotten borough — this old 
 ruin on its uninhabited hill-top sending its mem- 
 bers to the House of Commons while thriving 
 cities like Manchester, Birmingham and Leeds 
 were denied representation. 
 
 But this chapter is getting too long; and just 
 as we had to hurry back from Old Sarum to es- 
 cape a heavy shower which came sweeping up 
 from the south, so we must now hurry quickly to 
 a close by merely noting that we left Salisbury 
 late Sunday afternoon, and were soon in South- 
 ampton ready to mount the Green Dragon and 
 fly through the beautiful country we had seen 
 from the windows of the railway train. 
 
Ill 
 
 A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS 
 
 Southampton, 
 
 Wednesday, July 3, 1907. 
 , In telling of Exeter and Salisbury some inci- 
 dents were purposely omitted because as will be 
 readily seen they group more artistically with 
 the story which is now to be related ; and if you 
 have tears prepare to shed them now, for cer- 
 tainly this will be a tale calculated to make many 
 a gentle lady weep, and eke many a stern man 
 turn away his face to hide a furtive tear. Marry! 
 Go to! 
 
 Landing at Plymouth we found the South- 
 western railway did not provide a place large 
 enough to enable all the luggage to be examined 
 at once, so the passengers were admitted in 
 batches; and our party, being composed of mod- 
 est and retiring persons who do not push them- 
 selves forward unduly, unfortunately found it- 
 self in the last batch. 
 
 The special train for taking the steamer pas- 
 sengers to London, and which incidentally was 
 to take our party as far as Exeter, was waiting; 
 
 30 
 
A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS. 
 
 but rage and consternation filled our breasts — 
 two of our valises were missing — were nowhere 
 to be found. We w^ere sure that they had been 
 put on the tug, but they certainly were not await- 
 ing us at the customs. 
 
 Then we fully appreciated the beauty of at 
 least one English habit. If we had been in 
 America and were not ready when the train was, 
 so much the worse for us — we should simply 
 have been left behind — the convenience of the ma- 
 jority would prevail; but being in England dis- 
 tracted conductors tore madly up and down the 
 platform, anxious porters pried into all the rail- 
 way carriages, officials of steamship and railway 
 took notes and prepared reports by the dozen, 
 the train with all its passengers ready to start 
 was held up indefinitely because two small pieces 
 of luggage were missing, and their owners ob- 
 jected to going forward without all their belong- 
 ings. The inalienable right of the individual to 
 make a row when he is abused is universally 
 recognized here ; and the custom certainly has its 
 advantages. 
 
 The Gordian knot was cut by one of our own 
 party, who, diving into the remote corners of 
 one of the luggage vans, raised a shot of trium- 
 phant discovery. The two valises had been inad- 
 vertantly trundled off with some one else's lug- 
 gage; and there being no system of baggage 
 
 31 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 checking, had been carefully put with the trunks 
 for London. Being thus recovered by the owners, 
 the two valises no longer blocked the departure 
 of the train. We moved on and the various of- 
 ficial reports of the occurrence were cancelled — 
 all except one. One faithful servant of the 
 steamship company, as we learned afterwards, 
 undeterred by the fact that the articles had been 
 found, sent in his report just the same. I pre- 
 sume the occurrence is still being investigated in 
 some form or other, — for that also is an English 
 custom — the Circumlocation Ofl&ce still flour- 
 ishes if not in its pristine vigor at least to an ap- 
 preciable extent. 
 
 But this was only the first link in a chain of 
 accidents. In the flurry over the missing valises 
 the porter had been told to label our one trunk 
 for Exeter. Presumably he did so — one never 
 knows until the end of the journey whether one's 
 luggage has been labeled for the proper destina- 
 tion or some place in Eastern Siberia. If it turns 
 up then you know it was done right, if it 
 doesn't — ! Well, this time it didn't. Getting off at 
 Exeter the porter took control of our party, went 
 as in duty bound to one luggage van, they sent 
 him to another, and before we could get hold of 
 the guard, (as the conductor is called over here), 
 
 32 
 
A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS. 
 
 the train was off and away. You see we had no 
 real business, according to English notions, to be 
 traveling to Exeter on a through London ex- 
 press. 
 
 However that might be, there was the trunk 
 going on to London, and there were we at Exeter. 
 Then there was more excitement, and more notes 
 taken and more reports prepared; and we were 
 assured that telegrams would be sent and the 
 trunk would surely be taken off at Salisbury. 
 So with this assurance we started for Exeter 
 cathedral and strawberries with Devonshire 
 cream. 
 
 Later in the afternoon we arrived in Salisbury 
 — no trunk! Then more rows, more notes and 
 reports prepared, more telegrams sent (at the 
 railway's expense it must be admitted) ; and we 
 were informed that the next morning at the latest 
 the trunk would be there. The morning came — 
 the trunk did not; but we were now told that 
 it had gone to Southampton. How they knew 
 we were going to Southampton was never dis- 
 covered; but when we arrived at Southampton 
 there to be sure was the trunk ; and so that epi- 
 sode ended. 
 
 Monday morning after starting the unpack- 
 ing of the Green Dragon, a voyage of discovery 
 was begun in search of the luggage left on the 
 
 33 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 steamer. The customs was quickly found; and 
 there was our luggage — some of it. Of the hand 
 luggage left with the baggage steward one hold- 
 all was missing; of the three trunks that had 
 gone into the hold in New York, one was there — 
 the motor trunk, robbed of its straps and with 
 five great gouges taken out of the leather; the 
 two others had disappeared. When I commented 
 with warmth upon these facts the man who had 
 care of the things remembered that one trunk had 
 been sent to London; another passenger having 
 missed one of his trunks ours had been casually 
 sent to him as a sort of consolation prize. 
 
 We went to the office of the steamship line and 
 gave a careful description of the lost property. 
 The clerk was very polite ; he also took notes, and 
 was almost sympathetic, although he seemed to 
 think it was quite our fault ; — " You got off at 
 Plymouth, you know.'' That seemed sufficient 
 excuse for the company's carelessness. About 
 the missing straps they would do nothing except 
 investigate; ^^ We will make inquiries," said the 
 polite clerk. " But in the meantime," said I, " we 
 wish to start on our journey ; and how long are we 
 to wait the result of your inquiries? Do you 
 expect that the man who stole the straps is going 
 to tell you all about it? " These questions were 
 too profound to be answered, except by saying, 
 " Well, we must make inquiries first, you know." 
 
 34 
 
A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS. 
 
 I imagine that the matter of those two straps, 
 (value seven shillings and six pence), may by 
 this time have got almost as far as the third vice- 
 president — or the fourth assistant auditor; and 
 by the time we return to Europe for our next trip 
 they may be able to tell us whether they admit 
 the facts and are prepared to replace the straps. 
 
 In the meantime, where was the third trunk? 
 One was strapless, but existant; one had been 
 sent to London to console the other bereaved 
 passenger ; but the third had apparently vanished 
 into the air. The hold-all was soon recovered. 
 The baggage-steward having remembered to land 
 ten parcels had suddenly grown shy and retiring 
 with the eleventh; the hold-all was found in his 
 room on the steamer. And to make a long story 
 short, after the London trunk had reached us, by 
 dint of telegraphing to London, Plymouth and 
 Cherbourg, the missing one was discovered — in 
 Paris. Being plainly labeled " Southampton " 
 in large letters, it had been landed at Cherbourg 
 and forwarded as far as possible in the contrary 
 direction. 
 
 We afterwards heard of other mix-ups; one 
 lady who went through to Southampton had her 
 trunks landed at Plymouth, and there seems to 
 have been the most careless handling of luggage 
 all around. It is not necessary to comment upon 
 
 35 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 the facts; as far as we are at present concerned 
 by Tuesday morning we and all our trunks were 
 finally united, to the joy and satisfaction of every 
 one, and we were ready to fly away with the 
 Green Dragon. 
 
 The Green Dragon! Ah, yes, the Green Dra- 
 gon ! He was there all right — on the Southamp- 
 ton dock. Very little the worse for his steamship 
 voyage apparently, and ready to start for any- 
 where. So we hustled about, getting last things 
 ready — for instance, trunk traps to serve while 
 the steamer office was " making inquiries; " also 
 securing registration papers and permits to 
 guide the Dragon and other necessities of an 
 English trip of this kind. By dint of unusual 
 energy we succeeded in doing most of all this 
 on Monday morning (in the intervals of swearing 
 over our luggage complications ) , and after lunch- 
 eon announced ourselves as ready to start. 
 
 But speaking of starting, there is one thing 
 vitally necessary in managing dragons. It is 
 known as a "switch-plug.'' Most people with 
 scientific knowledge know too much to explain 
 its use so they can be understood ; so perhaps an 
 unscientific definition will make the matter clear. 
 It is the little brass thing with a short piece stick- 
 ing out of the middle ; you stick that piece into a 
 
 36 
 
A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS. 
 
 small hole which is on a thing down on your 
 left side in front, and then turn the plug one way 
 or the other, — sometimes both ; and if something 
 begins to fizzle then it's all right, and if it doesn't 
 it ain't, and then you have to get out and screw 
 something up and waste a lot of time. That, I 
 think, is a very fair and accurate description of 
 a switch-plug and the manner of using it. 
 
 The Green Dragon at any rate evidently re- 
 gards a switch-plug as necessary to its existence, 
 for without one he remains a very refractory and 
 obstinate beast. 
 
 Now if we had originally possessed only one 
 switch-plug, presumably it would have been 
 cherished as the apple of your eye; but hav- 
 ing had five, of course every single one was 
 missing upon the present interesting occa- 
 sion, having been carefully left upon the 
 other side of the Atlantic. So some temporary 
 arrangement was rigged up and the Dragon was 
 run to a comfortable resting place for dragons, 
 where a new plug was made. 
 
 But even with a new switch-plug we found 
 the Dragon reluctant to start. A friend 
 whose Panhard had come over on the same 
 boat went sailing off with a very haughty and 
 superior air, and still the Dragon refused to 
 budge. Ever since the days of St. George dra- 
 gons have been regarded with suspicion if not 
 
 37 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 disfavor in England, and the Green Dragon, be- 
 ing a good American dragon, may have been dis- 
 gusted at being asked to go where he was not 
 appreciated. On the other hand we laid it to the 
 fact that he had never been properly fitted, 
 clothed and fed up before leaving his old Massa- 
 chusetts home. Whichever it was it took two 
 men the better part of a day to pet and coax the 
 Dragon into taking a trial flight into the interior 
 of St. George's country; and we began to think 
 we should have to ask Mr. Kenneth Graeme to 
 write the tale of " Another Reluctant Dragon.^' 
 At last, however, late in the afternoon, too 
 late to make a real start, we all mounted 
 the Dragon and took a little flight of eight 
 miles to Romsey and back again; remember- 
 ing carefully to turn to the left in meeting 
 and to the right in passing — rules of the road 
 just the reverse of our own. At first we expected 
 all the street cars to run into us, and were cer- 
 tain we should destroy a few selected English 
 nursemaids, who would wheel the baby carriages 
 to the left of the road when our horn sounded; 
 but very soon we became used to it and no acci- 
 dent has happened on that score — as yet. 
 
 The Dragon did not run very well and it cer- 
 tainly was irritating. Here we were all ready for 
 our trip, and he simply would not behave him- 
 
 38 
 
A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS. 
 
 self. It was still more irritating next day when 
 we had planned to start early, to have to wait, 
 wait, wait — all the morning while our careful 
 " Shover,'' (as we call our Siegfried, the dragon- 
 tamer,) tried to put the Dragon into readiness — 
 doing work and having work done that should 
 have been attended to by the Dragon's former 
 keepers; and it was most irritating of all when 
 in the afternoon just as the Dragon at last start- 
 ed from the repair shop it was discovered that his 
 '' back gear '' refused to work at all. Then he was 
 hauled back into the repair shop and investiga- 
 tions made, only to find that some shaft in the 
 Dragon's in'ards must have twisted, and further 
 repair and overhauling was necessary. 
 
 All chance of starting that day being given up, 
 some of us took a little walk to cool off — out to 
 Netley Abbey, by a pleasant road along the east 
 shore at Southampton Water. And very lovely it 
 was, the sun shining bright, the road passing be- 
 tween the sparkling waters of the bay and the 
 rich vivid green of meadow and grove — a green 
 such as you only see in England. Then the ruin- 
 ed abbey, hidden away behind a wall of verdure, 
 was very lovely with the ivy mantling its crumb- 
 ling arches. 
 
 We came back tired but happy, almost forgiv- 
 ing the Dragon for having caused us such a de- 
 
 39 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 lightful walk and such good exercise. With the 
 word that everything was at last really 
 ready to start we dined, a happy and merry 
 party, and prepared our minds for the morrow. 
 Our chapter of accidents was closed — for good 
 as we earnestly hope — at any rate for the time 
 being; and we are now to begin our real adven- 
 tures. 
 
IV 
 
 UP TO LONDON 
 
 London, 
 
 Friday, July 5, 1907. 
 
 On Wednesday, four days after landing, im- 
 agine our party ready to start. The morning be- 
 ing showery, we have spent it on last errands and 
 a visit to Netley Abbey by those who were not 
 there the day before; but after luncheon our 
 bags, rugs and other necessaries are on the Drag- 
 on's back ; our luggage has been forwarded to our 
 headquarters in Sevenoaks; and rain or shine 
 we are determined to start. It is really most ex- 
 citing. 
 
 Our party is well organized. We have every 
 day a captain to whom all questions are referred, 
 each passenger serving a day in turn. Then 
 every man has his duty for the week. First, the 
 Keeper of Accounts, known as the " Clerk ;" 
 (in England to be pronounced ^^ dark,'' in all 
 other countries " clurk " ) ; second, the Keeper of 
 the Baggage, known as the ^^Smasher ;" third, the 
 Keeper of the log, known as the ^^Orow ;"* fourth, 
 the Keeper of the Guide Book, known as " Baede- 
 ker ; " fifth, the " Loafer," known as such ; sixth 
 
 *It is left to the reader's ingrenuity to discover the derivation of this tertn. 
 
 41 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 and lastly, the Dragon-tamer, known as the 
 " Shover/' which office does not rotate. 
 
 The object of these offices, and one or two 
 simple rules, is to avoid misunderstanding about 
 choice of hotel rooms, and seats on the Dragon, 
 and whose business it is to do what, — such 
 small and unimportant matters as frequently 
 wreck the happiness of parties such as ours. To 
 reduce the possibility of "scrapping'' to a mini- 
 mum is to bring the pleasure of traveling to a 
 maximum. Heaven knows there is enough chance 
 of discomfort from without — loss of baggage, 
 custom houses, extortionate landlords, careless 
 custodians of all kinds — without adding chances 
 of discomfort from within. 
 
 So with the day's captain in charge, with 
 everything in ship-shape order, we begin our 
 flight. 
 
 How can it be described? It can't be. No 
 words can give any idea of the poetry of motion, 
 as we hum along over these smooth English 
 roads, annihilating space with an ease and com- 
 fort never before associated with travel. That 
 is the first sensation — wonder and exhileration 
 as we sweep over mile after mile of smooth, un- 
 dulating surface. Up hill and down — a bend one 
 way and then a curve the other — looking to the 
 left and right up and down high roads, country 
 
 42 
 
UP TO LONDON. 
 
 lanes or private avenues, all smooth and hard 
 and level as the road we are traveling. Some- 
 times we are on broad and busy thorough- 
 fares; sometimes in narrow, quiet country 
 lanes, where we could not possibly pass a 
 vehicle; sometimes i3icking our way thr)ugh 
 the crowded streets of a city; sometimes 
 dashing into and out of some quaint sleepy 
 little village — but always these magnificent road- 
 ways. Everywhere — highway or byway, city or 
 village, rough country or level valley — it makes 
 no difference; everywhere smooth, hard roadbeds 
 that make our mere motion an indescribable joy. 
 
 Then the next sensation — the glory of green. 
 Such grass ! Such bushes and hedges ! ! Such 
 trees ! ! ! Do they grow anywhere but in Eng- 
 land? Everywhere your eyes turn you see such 
 deep, rich, satisfying verdure. The roadway is 
 often framed with such beautiful trees that you 
 begin to feel that England is laid out for the 
 benefit of its roads, — until you get a glimpse 
 over the wall of some large estate; then you see 
 trees that make you realize that what you get on 
 the highwaj^s are only the " leftovers '' — that 
 England has been in truth laid out for the bene- 
 fit of its great landowners. Beautiful as every 
 part of England is, the heart of its beauty can 
 
 43 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 only be reached in the midst of some great park 
 like Windsor, or Blenheim, or the smaller ones 
 that border the roadway wherever you travel, 
 surrounding the innumerable private castles, 
 halls and mansions. Although the public is bar- 
 red from most of these beautiful places, there are 
 enough left open to give us an idea of them ; and 
 in truth there is on the high road itself more 
 beauty than we can easily take in. It twists and 
 it turns, it winds up hill and it runs down ; and 
 wherever it goes, new and charming scenes pre- 
 sent themselves. Through all your sensations a 
 curious one persists, — that somehow or other, 
 you have seen it all before ; until you realize that 
 what you recognize is not the actual scene, but 
 its resemblance to some picture you know or 
 description you have read. Here is a little vil- 
 lage, or a bit of roadway so exactly like that pic- 
 tured and described in The Old Curiosity Shop, 
 that one almost expects to run across Little Nell 
 and her Grandfather trudging along their weary 
 journey. Here is a comfortable looking coun- 
 try house so like Fairoaks that you almost think 
 the attractive young woman driving out of the 
 gate must be Laura Pendennis herself. Here is 
 a little town with all the prim old-fashioned neat- 
 ness of Cranford. Here is AUington with 
 the Small House and the Great House, just 
 as Trollope described it. And here surely, 
 
 44 
 
UP TO LONDON. 
 
 is the identical road where Mr. Winkle got 
 down off his horse to pick up Mr. Pickwick's 
 whip; and the very quickset hedge into which 
 Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass were thrown 
 after Mr. Pickwick had made his historical ex- 
 clamation, " Bless my soul, there's the other 
 horse running away.'' From some stableyard Sam 
 Weller waves in a friendly way to us; and from 
 another Shiney Villiam grins to the Fat Boy. 
 Oh, ye poor people, that haven't read or " don't 
 care " for Dickens, never come to England ; for 
 you will lose half the fun — the cream of the joke 
 will be wasted on you. 
 
 And everywhere we find the realities of our 
 reading and our dreams. It is not the novelists 
 alone that have described the scenes about us. 
 ^^Flower in the crannied wall," sings Tennyson. 
 That conveys but little idea to us in America, 
 where we don't have crannied walls nor 
 flowers that grow in them; but here every old 
 wall has its moss and wondrous little pink and 
 yellow flowers springing from every crack. The 
 lark here soars skyward at sunset — (I can't an- 
 swer for the dawn, but I'm willing to take it on 
 trust), and pours forth his song which comes rip- 
 pling down from heaven just as the poets de- 
 scribe. 
 
 45 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 In the fields on all sides — in the midst of 
 wheat or grass, spring up the same gorgeous red 
 poppies that bent over the head of Keats as he 
 wrote his rhyming Epistle to his Brother : 
 
 ^^So pert and useless that they bring to mind 
 The scarlet coats that pester humankind." 
 
 Everywhere we are surrounded by sights and 
 sounds, " read of in books, or dreamt of in 
 dreams/' until you feel as if you were in some 
 lovely enchantment and might wake up any mo- 
 ment to stearn realities. 
 
 ^ 
 
 And now we are whizzing through some fasci- 
 nating little village ; — old, half-timbered cottages 
 with thatched roofs are arranged in picturesque 
 confusion; the village inn occupies the principal 
 corner in the center of the town, close to the 
 horse-pond where the animals are driven at night 
 to be watered and washed. There are no wooden 
 houses at all — only brick or plaster; wood is too 
 expensive; and for roofs principally tiles and 
 thatch — ^most picturesque and lovely with flow- 
 ers ; and over the doorway are roses in the wildest 
 profusion. And here is the old church, its bell 
 tower covered with ivy and its porch literally 
 smothered in roses. And before we have half 
 seen the charming picturesqueness of it all, we 
 
 46 
 
UP TO LONDON. 
 
 have whirled past it and are rolling up the hill 
 beyond under an avenue of magnificent oaks 
 which fairly meet over our heads. 
 
 We have run through Winchester, but there 
 was no time today to stop and see the famous 
 cathedral; we are off and away to Guildford, to 
 Dorking, to Reigate. How every name brings 
 its memory : 
 •^^The King went ahunting at Reigate, 
 And wished to leap over a high gate ; 
 
 Said the owner : ^Go round 
 With your horse and your hound. 
 For you never shall leap over my gate'." 
 This has been one of our household songs from 
 infancy — how old it may be, and whether it com- 
 memorates some actual example of stubborn 
 Saxon independence against kingly prerogative 
 I do not know, but here is Reigate sure enough ; 
 and that is more solid basis of fact than much 
 good poetry can show. 
 
 And Dorking, too ! It was the inn at Dorking 
 — the " Marquis of Granby,'' if our memory 
 serves, that belonged to Sam Weller's step- 
 mother; in the bar of which the Reverend Mr. 
 Stiggins of blessed memory used to imbibe large 
 quantities of pine apple rum and hot water; in 
 spite of the fact that " all taps is wanities.'' What 
 a pity we can't stop and call ! 
 
 47 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 The finest single bit of road on the day's jour- 
 ney was just before reaching Guildford. Here 
 for several miles the road lay along the extreme 
 summit of a long high ridge called the ^^Hog's 
 Back/' where we had a beautiful and widely ex- 
 tended view on both sides, north and south, while 
 we seemed to be running almost in the clouds. 
 Then the road dropped quickly down to the bot- 
 tom of the valley, crossed the river, and we were 
 in the quaint old city of Guildford with the ruins 
 of a Norman castle and other interesting sights 
 we might not stop to see; for the day was wear- 
 ing away, and we must reach Sevenoaks for the 
 night. 
 
 Late in the afternoon, (and in these northern 
 latitudes the afternoon lasts until after eight 
 o'clock in the evening,) we arrive at Sevenoaks, 
 — eye-weary, but still wildly enthusiastic over 
 the beauties of the day. We are not bodily tired 
 for we have had no jolt or jar of any kind; the 
 Green Dragon flies so noislessly over these 
 smooth roads that none hears us until the horn 
 gives warning of our approach. At Sevenoaks 
 we alight at the well remembered hotel, the 
 " Eoyal Crown," with its lovely garden, and are 
 shown into the same rooms we had thirteen years 
 ago — ( it might have been yesterday ) ; and we sit 
 down to a good dinner and sing the praises of 
 
 48 
 
UP TO LONDON. 
 
 England and the Green Dragon through the meal 
 and up stairs to bed, whither we need no extra 
 inducements to persuade us to go. 
 
 Next day, leaving most of our luggage behind, 
 we start for London. 
 
 The weather? What does it matter? Occa- 
 sional showers, yes ; but we should hardly realize 
 it was England unless we had showers; and we 
 have dodged them very successfully on the whole. 
 They have had much bad weather here lately and 
 we hear many complaints about it; but an old 
 traveler never expects anything but " unusual '^ 
 weather of some kind. If it were not unusually 
 wet in England, it would be unusually dry ; of the 
 two the latter is the worse — in England. 
 
 Our run to London was very successful; the 
 main trouble being that London begins so very 
 long before you get to London. We were on the 
 main road from the southeast, — a good, broad 
 thoroughfare, but when we struck the big city— 
 however, that will have to be another story. 
 
LONDON 
 
 Sevenoaks, 
 
 Wednesday, July 10, 1907. 
 
 London is not only enormous — all large cities 
 are that; but London is large for its size, so to 
 speak. It seems to have no limits and no defi- 
 nite lines of demarcation. New York has its two 
 rivers, its one great street running the length 
 of the main island, the surrounding boroughs be- 
 ing outgrowths and tributaries to be sure, but 
 still quite distinct. Jersey City and Hoboken, 
 although in reality parts of New York, are still 
 Jersey City and Hoboken; and Brooklyn is still 
 Brooklyn, despite its political absorption into 
 the larger city. Everywhere in New York you 
 are conscious of certain well marked lines, limits 
 and points of interest. In London, on the con- 
 trary, you go through miles and miles of streets 
 without any such lines and limits; now you are 
 in Sydenham, now in Dulwich, now in Streatem, 
 now in Brompton, now in Kensington^ — ^yet all 
 the time you are never outside London. Coming 
 back from Henley the Green Dragon struck the 
 city at Houndslow, and for eleven miles pursued 
 his devious way through various suburbs with 
 
 50 
 
LONDON. 
 
 familiar names, before he landed us at our hotel ; 
 and when he did so, we had only reached West- 
 minster; we had not crossed the site of Temple 
 Bar and entered the old city of London; and on 
 the other side of the old city, London of the pres; 
 ent stretches away to the east almost as far as 
 we had come in from the west. 
 
 In Paris the circle of wide boulevards which 
 twice encompass the city, the broad avenues 
 which connect them, the large open spaces, the 
 parks and bridges, the great succession of pub- 
 lic buildings — the cathedral, the law courts, the 
 City Hall, and the magnificent Palace-Museum 
 of the Louvre, followed by the Gardens of the 
 Tuilleries, the great Place de la Concorde, the 
 Champs Elysees and Napoleon's great arch of 
 Triumph — all form points of civic interest un- 
 rivalled by any other city. There is no such suc- 
 cession in London. 
 
 Then again the main roads into London are 
 not broad thoroughfares such as they now make 
 as approaches to a great city, but are the nar- 
 row, tortuous streets of the original towns which 
 have simply been absorbed by the growth of Lon- 
 don and have retained most of their original 
 characteristics. 
 
 In consequence of all this the task of getting the 
 Green Dragon into the part of London one wishes 
 
 51 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 to reach is not an easy one. In fact if any per- 
 son craves excitement or is interested in Chinese 
 puzzles he is advised to tackle the job by way of 
 experiment. Eemembering to turn to the left 
 and pass to the right is bad enough; but when 
 you have street cars, and horse 'busses, and motor 
 'busses, and cabs, and carriages, and donkey 
 carts, and street peddlers, and pedestrians, and 
 children, and baby carriages, and automobiles, 
 all in one grand mix-up, and all jammed into a 
 narrow street forming one of the main ap- 
 proaches to the largest city in the world but 
 which twists and turns like any country lane, 
 you have a task which is decidedly entertaining 
 to say the least — your mind has not much of a 
 chance to wander. To add to the pleasures of the 
 occasion the law prescribes, as in most towns 
 and cities in our own country, such a ridicuously 
 low rate of speed that even a well-conducted 
 dragon finds it quite difficult if not impossible to 
 keep within it; for it is a well known fact in 
 natural history that when dragons attempt to 
 move too slowly it is bad for their digestion. We 
 are consequently liable to arrest at the hands of 
 every policeman we meet, and policemen are 
 thick in London. Fortunately we have escaped 
 thus far. 
 
 52 
 
LONDON. 
 
 When we came up from Sevenoaks we reached 
 the outskirts of London, and twisted back and 
 forth, finding ourselves at one time, to our con- 
 siderable surprise, on the western terrace of the 
 Crystal Palace of Sydenham. How we got 
 there we never quite knew, nor yet how we ever 
 got back to our road again; but there it was. 
 The palace looks rather run down, many of its 
 lights of glass being broken; but it seems still 
 the most artistic as it was the first building of 
 glass and iron ever constructed for exhibition 
 purposes. Its architect, it will be remembered, 
 was Joseph Paxton, head gardener of the Duke 
 of Devonshire. He had built a large iron and 
 glass greenhouse at Chatsworth, the Duke's 
 country seat; and when the competition was open 
 for designs for a building to house the first great 
 world's fair in Hyde Park, Paxton sent in his 
 plan for a mammoth palace of iron and glass 
 such as the world at that time had never seen. 
 It was accepted, and the architect became Sir 
 Joseph in recognition of his success. After the 
 world's fair was over the Crystal Palace, as it 
 was called, was moved to Sydenham, one of Lon- 
 don's numerous suburbs, where it has since been 
 retained for various purposes of exhibition and 
 entertainment. 
 
 We finally reached our destination only to 
 find London so crowded that we had to visit five 
 
 53 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 hotels before we could get rooms. Like New 
 York it seems as though the more hotels the city 
 has the less room there is for visitors; but as it 
 is just at the end of " the season '' we have to 
 take what we can get and be thankful. 
 
 London! I shall not attempt to describe it, 
 of course; nor did we attempt to do any real 
 " sight-seeing.'' We are over here for an out-of- 
 door flight and a tramp in the mountains, not to 
 waste time in cities. 
 
 However, one has no right to be in London 
 even a day without a visit to Westminster Ab- 
 bey; so to the great church we went, rejoicing 
 once more in the beauty of its noble proportions 
 and rich gothic detail, thrilling with emotion as 
 we gazed at the memorials of the mighty dead, — 
 and wondering anew at the eternal problems 
 of life and death and human nature. Here lie 
 those — kings and nobles, who with the largest 
 opportunities in life made the greatest failures; 
 and here lie those who with the least advantages 
 made such success that we still thrill with the 
 glory of their deeds. Here, side by side, lie the 
 warrior, honored for his success in destroying 
 his fellowmen, and the physician honored for his 
 success in saving them. Here is the politician 
 who played upon the weaknesses of human na- 
 
 54 
 
LONDON. 
 
 ture, rising to power only to corrupt and de- 
 grade, — and here is the statesman, the record of 
 whose long life is one of wisdom and purity, al- 
 ways endeavoring to broaden the lives of other 
 men and strengthen the bonds of human brother- 
 hood. Here about the shrine of Edward the Con- 
 fessor, the old sainted Saxon king, lie sixteen of 
 his thirty-eight successors. Here lie the weak 
 and worthless Henry III. ; his son, the warrior 
 and statesman, Edward I.; Edward's wife, the 
 lovely Eleanor of Castile, for whom he bore so 
 great a love that everywhere her body rested as 
 she was borne to her grave at Westminster, the 
 king caused to be erected a stone cross of rare 
 workmanship. Here lie Edward III., the victor 
 of Crecy; his wife, the Flemish Philippa, who 
 first introduced the woolen industry to England ; 
 and his grandson, Richard II., who lost crown 
 and life by his weakness and indolence. Here is 
 Henry V., the victor of Agincourt, with the sad- 
 dle, shield and helmet he used at the great battle 
 still hanging over his tomb; and Henry VII., and 
 his wife, Elizabeth of York, whose marriage 
 united the rival houses of York and Lancaster 
 and ended the Wars of the Roses. Here lie al- 
 most side by side Elizabeth and Mary Queen of 
 Scots; a significant ending to the feminine riv- 
 alry which convulsed two kingdoms, and altered 
 the whole course of European history. 
 
 55 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 But it is not among the monarchs lying near 
 tlie Confessor that we look for the real kings of 
 men. It is in other parts of the great church, 
 where we read on the stones beneath our feet 
 the names of Chaucer, of Addison, of Johnson, 
 of Tennyson and Browning side by side, of 
 Dickens and Bulwer-Lytton, of Macauley and 
 Grote, of Handel and Purcell, of Garrick and 
 Irving, of Pitt, Fox and Gladstone. But the 
 roll of the mighty dead in Westminster is so long 
 that it is folly to even begin naming them. 
 
 There are so many actually buried in the Ab- 
 bey that it seems a pity to block up the beautiful 
 church with a lot of memorials of people who 
 are not buried there at all. It confuses the mind 
 and lessens the value of the honor of an Abbey 
 burial. If the English want a Walhalla or 
 Temple of Fame, by all means have it, — such a 
 device is a sufficiently worthy one; but it doee 
 seem as though such a thing should be in a sep- 
 arate building of its own. Certain it is that the 
 Abbey would be greatly improved if all memo- 
 rials which commemorate those not actually 
 buried within its walls should be removed. Most 
 of them as works of art are hopelessly bad, and 
 the Abbey would gain immensely in that sense. I 
 
 56 
 
LONDON. 
 
 suppose, however, that instant death would be 
 too mild a fate for the iconoclast who suggested 
 to an Englishman any such change. 
 
 And speaking of changes, I very much fear 
 that the British nation is doomed anyway. If it 
 had been suggested to me six years ago that I 
 should live to see discarded the sacred fatigue 
 cap of the British soldier — that little round cap 
 perched jauntily over one ear, with a narrow 
 black strap under the lips, and kept on only by 
 some extraordinary and unique application of 
 the law of gravitation — if anyone had suggested 
 that this cap would in six short years disappear 
 and be replaced by a miserable imitation of a 
 German military hat, I would have sworn that 
 such a change could not take place without un- 
 dermining the whole British Constitution. I 
 think the Constitution must be in peril, for the 
 change has taken place; and only the little mes- 
 senger boys are left to save the country — they 
 still wear their caps perched sideways over their 
 right ears, as British soldier boys should. Tommy 
 Atkins is no longer the soldier of my heart, now 
 that his cap has gone. I wonder how the house- 
 maids like the change. They certainly must miss 
 
 57 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 that fascinating roll of the hair which went 
 curling up on the left side. — But there ! the sub- 
 ject must be dropped; it won't bear thinking of. 
 
 ^ 
 
 We went also to the National Gallery and 
 revelled once more in a sight of the glorious can- 
 vasses of the masters ancient and modern; al- 
 though so far as the latter are concerned most 
 of the modern pictures have been removed to 
 the new Tait Gallery. We also went to the Wal- 
 lace ,Collection, bequeathed ten years ago by 
 Lady Wallace to the nation. A magnificent col- 
 lection of pictures, armor and furniture of va- 
 rious epochs. The building in which it is housed 
 is Hertford House, immortalized as Gaunt House, 
 the residence of Lord Steyne, by Thackeray in 
 "Vanity Fair/' where those interested may read 
 the description. 
 
 We ran out to Henley and back on the last 
 day of the great races; and a wonderful sight 
 Henley is ; — an English holiday crowd assembled 
 in its best and gayest mood at an ideal spot for 
 a water festival. Houseboats, barges, punts, 
 rowboats, launches — almost every variety of ves- 
 sel, decorated with flowers and filled with bright 
 colors — it is a beautiful and interesting sight. 
 
 58 
 
LONDON. 
 
 Of course a stranger may not care particularly 
 for the races, but the scene itself is well worth 
 seeing. 
 
 We drove to Henley through lovely Richmond- 
 Park and Windsor, passing Runnymede, where 
 King John's barons assembled in defiance of 
 the king; and Magna Charta island, where the 
 monarch was forced to put his name to the Great 
 Charter of English liberty. It occurred to us 
 that if the English were as fond of memorials 
 as the French or Germans, that all the people of 
 English descent, or whose political freedom is 
 the result of the underlying forces which pro- 
 duced the Great Charter, would be asked to 
 unite in raising a great monument dedicated to 
 Liberty — ^^that freedom of the individual which 
 was wrested in part from the usurping tyrant at 
 Runnymede, has been broadened and strength- 
 ened through the centuries, and even yet has not 
 found its limits — and never will, until every hu- 
 man being is left face to face with his God, — left 
 free to develop his own individuality — in short, 
 until we reach the ideal of democracy. 
 
 Why should not England, the United States^ 
 Canada and Australia join in raising such a 
 monument? The building of it might perhaps 
 produce some searchings of conscience ; but those 
 
 59 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 in their turn might sooner bring about certain 
 results in Ireland, the Philippines and elsewhere, 
 highly desirable when one thinks of it all at 
 Runnymede, standing on ground sacred to hu- 
 man liberty. 
 
VI 
 
 AROUND AND ABOUT ENGLAND 
 
 Hertford, 
 
 Monday, July 15, 1907. 
 
 Our first trip was to Canterbury, the capital 
 of Kent, containing one of the finest and certain- 
 ly the most interesting of English cathedrals; 
 but we went first through charming country 
 lanes and then over broad highroads to Roches- 
 ter. Here we found ourselves in the Dickens 
 country. Gadshill, his last home, is close by; 
 and it was to Rochester that the immortal Mr. 
 Pickwick and his three companions first journey- 
 ed; — it was at the Bull Inn that they stopped 
 the night; and one may see there now the very 
 room where they dined and had for company the 
 versatile Mr. Jingle ; and up stairs is the identi- 
 cal ball room where the musicians sat in " an 
 elevated cage '' at the county ball ; and where 
 Mr. Tupman and Jingle danced with the widow, 
 to the rage of Doctor Slammer. It was from the 
 same hotel that the four set out for Dingley Dell, 
 Mr. Pickwick driving Mr. Tupman and Mr. 
 Snodgrass, while Mr. Winkle on horseback 
 " drifted sideways '^ up the street to the discom- 
 
 61 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 fort of the rider and the amusement of the 
 populace. The Bull Inn has hardly changed, 
 and Eochester is the same quaint old city de- 
 scribed by Dickens a second time as Cloisterham, 
 the scene of Edwin Drood. After inspecting the 
 inn and the ruins of the old castle, one of the 
 three great keeps built by the early Normans, 
 the Green Dragon started on a wonderful run 
 along the old Roman road to Canterbury — the 
 same road formerly used by the pilgrims from 
 London to the shrine of St. Thomas, and de- 
 scribed in Chaucer's Canterbury Pilgrimage. 
 
 It was disappointing to sweep around the west- 
 ern hill and find our view of the city and the 
 great church almost obliterated by a smart 
 shower of rain; harder still to find the great 
 central tower — the glory of Canterbury, so hid- 
 den b}^ scaffolding that one could see nothing of 
 its beauty. 
 
 Of course cathedrals have to be repaired — one 
 would complain even more if they were allowed 
 to fall to pieces; but the weathering of ages in 
 these old buildings is so beautiful and a great 
 deal of modern repair work is so commonplace 
 and ugly, that it is hard to see one replaced by 
 the other. 
 
 We could see but little of Canterbury cathe- 
 dral for it was Sunday; and in England it is 
 
 62 
 
AROUND AND ABOUT ENGLAND. 
 
 considered highly improper to want to see 
 churches on Sunday. You may go to service if 
 you will be good and sit all through, (they lock 
 the doors on you so you can't get out) ; but such 
 horrid impieties as looking at stained glass win- 
 dows and the site of the old shrine of Thomas 
 Becket, and the tombs of Henry IV. and Edward 
 the Black Prince, can't be tolerated. So we sat 
 and looked at what we could see of the old 
 church during a long sermon, to which I fear 
 we paid but little heed; and then were driven 
 forth by the vergers. 
 
 Some people's notions of religion are distinctly 
 comic. 
 
 A few days after our Canterbury trip we start- 
 ed on our regular tour, — if anything so irregular 
 could be called so. From Sevenoaks we had a 
 most lovely ride through Dorking, Burford 
 Bridge and Virginia Water to Windsor, where 
 we lunched and visited the castle. It is certainly 
 a right royal residence; and its glorious collec- 
 tion of pictures, of which casual visitors may 
 see many of the finest, is what any king might 
 envy. The private rooms are not shown, but we 
 were assured with bated breath by the function- 
 ary who condescended to show us about, that the 
 King and Queen of Norway, on their recent visit, 
 
 63 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 actually inhabited a number of the rooms that 
 we did see. I presume those excellent young peo- 
 ple appreciated the beauty of their surroundings ; 
 but it is hard for us to find any increased interest 
 in the rooms from the mere fact of their stay. 
 Modern royalty does seem such an anachronism ! 
 When intelligent people could really believe in 
 divine right and think there was some inherent 
 virtue in a royal family or an aristocratic caste, 
 royalty was always interesting and often fine. 
 But in these democratic days, when we realize 
 what insidious danger, especially to its possessor, 
 lurks in irresponsible power, and have learned 
 that kings and other so-called aristocrats are 
 most uncommonly like other folks in their vir- 
 tues and their vices, in their capacity for errors 
 and follies, all royalty seems a hopelessly anti- 
 quated and ridiculous survival. It is well 
 enough to say that the king is a convenient fig- 
 urehead, but just fancy yourself for a moment a 
 king^ — can you imagine a more absurd situation? 
 — A real anointed king, whose words and deeds 
 are supposed to possess uncommon sanctity and 
 importance; and expecting all the great and 
 good men in the land to bow before your superior 
 claims, — could anyone with any sense of humor 
 take himself seriously in such a situation? There 
 seem to me only two potentates in the world to- 
 
 64 
 
AROUND AND ABOUT ENGLAND. 
 
 day who do take themselves quite seriously, and 
 imagine that their every act and word is fraught 
 with superior and superhuman wisdom, — ^but I 
 won't be personal enough to name them. 
 
 To return to Windsor castle. — It is in truth 
 one of the finest of royal residences; the more 
 modern additions being so in harmony with the 
 older portions that it is not always easy to tell 
 the difference. The noble park is itself enough 
 to make a royal reputation; and as we drive 
 through it looking for Heme the Hunter's oak, 
 under which Falstaff waited for the Merry Wives 
 of Windsor, we realize that other royalties be- 
 sides kings and queens have trod these stones. 
 
 From Windsor a delightful run to Oxford took 
 us through the park known as the Burnham 
 Beeches, with wonderful old trees. Near by is 
 the little village of Stoke Pogis, the church yard 
 of which is well known to all lovers of English 
 poetry as the scene of Gray's Elegy in a Country 
 Church Yard. I am fully aware that the Elegy 
 is a masterpiece — one of the most perfect in any 
 language; but unfortunately for me some evil 
 npirit once put the idea into the head of a certain 
 college instructor, that an excellent subject for 
 an English theme would be to turn the Elegy into 
 prose, and this idea he proceeded to work off on 
 his scholars, miserable barbarian that he was. 
 
 65 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 I can now never hear " The curfew tolls the knell 
 of parting day '^ without thinking of my feeble 
 attempt to turn beautiful poetry into bad prose. 
 If school teachers only realized their powers of 
 harm ! 
 
 ^^ 
 
 Oxford is one of the most picturesque and in- 
 teresting cities in England, and High street, 
 lined with fine old college buildings, is certainly 
 one of the notable streets of the world. We did 
 not attempt to " do '' Oxford ; we only went to a 
 few of the loveliest sights — the Cathedral, Great 
 Hall and Broad Walk at Christ Church; 
 the Cloister Court, Cardinal Wolsey's beautiful 
 tower and Addison's Walk at Magdalen; the 
 Gardens of New College and its chapel with the 
 lovely window designed by Sir Joshua Reynolds ; 
 the Martyrs' monument on the spot where Cran- 
 mer, Latimer and Ridley suffered martyrdom in 
 the reign of Bloody Mary. These we saw and 
 then the Green Dragon flew off with us to War- 
 wickshire. 
 
 A whole book could be written about the next 
 two days — first came Woodstock with the Duke 
 of Marlborough's palace and wonderful park of 
 Blenheim; then Stratford-on-Avon with its 
 Shakespeare memorials; then Kenilworth castle, 
 haunted by the ghosts of Queen Elizabeth and 
 
 66 
 
AROUND xiND ABOUT ENGLAND. 
 
 Kobert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, but even more 
 by that third ghost conjured up by the great Sir 
 Walter — Amy Robsart; then Leamington with 
 its old springs and pump-house and air of faded 
 gentility; and lastly Warwick with its quaint 
 main street, old gates, interesting church and 
 noble castle; — but all these are so traveled over 
 and familiar to Americans that to mention them 
 is enough. 
 
 In truth Americans just swarm in certain 
 places abroad and Warwickshire is one of them. 
 One guardian of Shakespeare's home asked us if 
 we knew the " Buckeye Daisies." They had come 
 through the day before, he said. We pled igno- 
 rance and he explained that they were a party of 
 American ladies from " Oio." It was a few sec- 
 onds before we realized he meant Ohio. We as- 
 sured him we had no connection with or any 
 knowledge of the Buckeye Daisies. But what 
 in the world do Europeans think of the United 
 States when they see some of the specimens we 
 send over? And where do those specimens hide 
 themselves in our own country, for one never 
 sees them at home? Or perhaps we do, only they 
 don't seem so incongruous. Somehow or other 
 a swarm of Buckeye Daisies taking posses- 
 sion of Shakespeare's birthplace does seem in- 
 congruous. 
 
 67 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 Then a long afternoon's journey took us from 
 Leamington to Cambridge. On the way we di- 
 verged from Northampton to see the best pre- 
 served of all the crosses which Edward I. raised 
 to the memory of his beloved wife, Eleanor, 
 wherever her body rested on its journey from the 
 north where she died, to Westminster Abbey. At 
 Bedford we noticed a statue to its immortal tink- 
 er, John Bunyon; the jail where he wrote the 
 Pilgrim's Progress is not now in existence. 
 
 About five miles from Cambridge we made a 
 very interesting and valuable discovery. We 
 found that a Green Dragon accustomed to gaso- 
 line as a daily food will not fly without gasoline. 
 We think of publishing this important discovery 
 for the benefit of those interested in that branch 
 of science known as Dragonology — ^but perhaps 
 it will be better for them to gain knowledge by 
 experience — as we did. We not only had expe- 
 rience, but some of us had good exercise as well — 
 walking five miles to Cambridge to get a relief 
 expedition started. It was a good five miles — I 
 can vouch for it ; but a motor cycle soon carried 
 fuel to the Green Dragon and the shipwrecked 
 travellers arrived in Cambridge in time for din- 
 ner. So there was no harm done; but we have 
 not allowed the Shover to complain of anything 
 since. 
 
 68 
 
AROUND AND ABOUT ENGLAND. 
 
 As everyone knows, England's two great uni- 
 versities are Oxford and Cambridge; and I pre- 
 sume it is a matter of taste as to which is the 
 greater. But to a casual traveler it would seem 
 as though of the two places Oxford were on the 
 whole the more picturesque and beautiful. Yet 
 after one has said that there comes the memory 
 of Kings College chapel with its magnificent 
 stained glass windows ; and best of all, the river 
 at the backs of the colleges, the lazy and winding 
 Cam, with the different college buildings on one 
 side and on the other velvety lawns and lovely 
 gardens with picturesque bridges between, every 
 dip of the oar bringing one to new and lovely 
 pictures. Oxford, beautiful as it is, has no one 
 thing quite so lovely as that quiet river along the 
 " backs.'' And when one sees it in company with 
 a charming group of sympathetic companions it 
 is indeed a delight. 
 
 Most people have heard of " Hobson's choice." 
 How many, I wonder, know that he was a real 
 person. Here in Cambridge we meet him in the 
 shape of " Hobson's Conduit " which he gave 
 to the town. Hobson was a stable keeper in the 
 reign of Charles II. who became wealthy by 
 letting out horses for hire; as there was much 
 riding and coaching back and forth between 
 Cambridge and London. And Hobson, not 
 wanting the bother of selecting horses to suit 
 
 69 
 
ADVENTURES OP A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 the individual tastes of his customers, adopted 
 the convenient plan of making each one take the 
 next horse in the stable, whether he liked the 
 animal or not. Hence " Hobson's choice " was 
 no choice at all. 
 
 England for the past year or two has been 
 undergoing a series of " pageants " as they call 
 them ; a sort of theatrical performance represent- 
 ing the history of a town ; in which large num- 
 bers of its inhabitants take part. One held at 
 Warwick a year or so ago was extraordinarily 
 successful, and England has been pageanting at 
 a tremendous rate this year ; and so many towns 
 are planning for next year that there will soon 
 be hardly a city that has not become thoroughly 
 familiar with its ancient history and cos- 
 tumes. Punch has even invented a new verb to 
 keep up with the times, " Do you paj ? " de- 
 mands a girl of a young man — meaning of course, 
 "Are you taking part in a pageant? '' 
 
 We determined, if not to paj, at least to see a 
 pageant; and finding a convenient one at Saint 
 Albans we ran thither from Cambridge, deter- 
 mined to be in the fashion. To avoid the crowds 
 we stopped to engage rooms for the night with 
 an anxious and attentive landlady at Hertford, 
 and then went on to St. Albans — where our ad- 
 ventures will have to go over to another chapter. 
 
 70 
 
VII 
 
 THE SAINT ALBANS PAGEANT 
 
 Salisbury, 
 
 Tuesday, July 16, 1907. 
 
 What is a pageant? And why? 
 
 Everyone has heard of the famous Passion 
 Play at Oberammergau. For a long period of 
 time the devout peasants of this small Tyrolese 
 village have enacted once in ten years the story 
 of the Saviour's teaching and death. The text 
 of the play was written long ago by some village 
 schoolmaster; and its object was to stimulate 
 religious fervor and devotion. As its fame has 
 been spread abroad during the last forty years, 
 and crowds of tourists have gathered in increas- 
 ing numbers to see the play, it has become more 
 and more a money-making enterprise, and much 
 of the charm of its earlier simplicity and ingenu- 
 ousness has evaporated; as is inevitable when 
 public spirit gives way to private gain. 
 
 While travelers have thus been flocking to 
 Oberammergau of recent years, other festival 
 plays of a more mundane character have been 
 discovered. The little town of Rothenburg in 
 Bavaria, for instance, celebrates its siege during 
 the Thirty Years' War in a sort of dramatic 
 
 71 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 entertainment in which many citizens take part, 
 the stage being the very spots where the actual 
 events took place. The Rothenburg festival oc- 
 curs, I think, every five years. 
 
 Vevay, on the lake of Geneva, has a Fete de» 
 Vignerons, or Festival of the Vine, which is given 
 at intervals of fifteen to thirty years ; and accord- 
 ing to the author of Romance and Teutonic 
 Switzerland, " pitched in the key of rustic gay- 
 ety, and acted on the plane of animal spirits, 
 it yet deserves to rank with the Passion Play at 
 Oberammergau for the genuine, spontaneous and 
 truthful manner of its production.'' The origin 
 of this play or festival is lost in antiquity as the 
 archives of the guild of vine-dressers were de- 
 stroyed by fire in 1688. Fennimore Cooper was 
 present at the festival in 1833 and described it 
 in his novel of The Headsman. 
 
 Then there has been Bayreuth, with its Wag- 
 ner festivals every few years, which have brought 
 fame to the town and fortune to Mde. Wagner 
 and many other good citizens of the place. 
 
 Then Altdorf some years ago, with the object 
 of stimulating Swiss patriotism, produced Schil- 
 ler's William Tell upon the scene of that hero's 
 exploits. This play after several presentations 
 has been abandoned for the present, as some of 
 those who were giving their services as actors 
 found to their chagrin that they were apparently 
 
 72 
 
THE SAINT ALBANS PAGEANT. 
 
 stimulating patriotism less than the love of gain. 
 It was the money-making feature of the festival 
 which tended to come uppermost, as it has at 
 Oberammergau and Bayreuth. 
 
 In our own county we have seen something of 
 these ideas expressed in " Old Home Week '' 
 and the various " carnivals/' in which patriot- 
 ism and profit have been judiciously combined. 
 
 In England they have developed the " Pa- 
 geant/' which is a sort of local historic festival 
 play; and as their history is a long and varied 
 one, they have had an opportunity to develop 
 the thing quite dramatically and to create a 
 form of entertainment which is well worthy of 
 study and imitation. Mr. Louis N. Parker, who 
 managed the pageant at Warwick a year or so 
 ago set the pace; and now every town in Eng- 
 land of any size seems to have had, to be having, 
 or to be planning to have a pageant. This year 
 Oxford had a magnificent one, three thousand 
 persons taking part; Romsey has celebrated the 
 thousandth anniversary of its old Abbey with a 
 pageant, and one of the managers told me that 
 for a year he had done little other work; Coven- 
 try was convulsed, and has convulsed all Eng- 
 land, over the great question involved in her pa- 
 geant as to what in the world Lady Godiva 
 should wear! — They couldn't, of course, have a 
 pageant in Coventry and leave Lady Godiva out 
 
 73 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 — they couldn't shock British propriety by 
 having her in the historic costume of " Sunshine 
 and Golden Hair '' — so what could, should and 
 would they do? Next year, among other cities, 
 Winchester announces a pageant, the proceeds 
 to be devoted to the restoration of the Cathedral ; 
 and so on. 
 
 It was our good fortune to be able to reach 
 Saint Albans from Cambridge on the Monday 
 morning its pageant began; so we applied for 
 and secured seats, and after a hurried luncheon 
 at the hotel and a brief visit to the curious old 
 Abbey church, not long since raised to the rank 
 of a Cathedral, we found ourselves on the way 
 to the scene of action. 
 
 It Avas a curious throng which was crowding 
 its way toward the gates. Amid a crowd of ordi- 
 nary Twentieth Century citizens with overcoats 
 and umbrellas were men, women and children in 
 all sorts of curious costumes. Here was a Ro- 
 man soldier clattering along in armor; there a 
 couple of ancient Britons with wild hair and 
 painted bodies ; anon a group of mediaeval rustics 
 with green tights, brown jerkins and pointed 
 caps ; now it was a bevy of Elizabethan maidens ; 
 and again it was a band of monks — all hurry- 
 ing along in a truly motley crowd. 
 
 74 
 
THE SAINT ALBANS PAGEANT. 
 
 There was no need of umbrellas, however. The 
 sun shone its brightest — and upon as lovely a 
 stage as was ever graced by actor, professional 
 or amateur. A broad stretch of smooth green 
 sward, backed by low banks — the actual remains 
 of old Roman breastworks. Then groups of fine 
 old trees dotted here and there on the knolls, 
 which sloped gently down to a little stream 
 meandering through the meadows at the back. 
 Off in the distance to the right rose the houses 
 of the town leading up to the Cathedral tower, 
 the construction of which shows that it was 
 built with bricks from Roman ruins. 
 
 At a quarter before three everyone is in his 
 place, the audience being seated in a spacious 
 grandstand, forming a segment of a large circle. 
 Everyone can see to advantage, and hear with 
 ease. The chairs are comfortable and the ar- 
 rangement in general excellent. 
 
 Promptly at three o'clock the trumpets sound, 
 the orchestra begins a march, and from either 
 side in stately procession come the choristers, 
 men and women, clad in crimson gowns of medi- 
 aeval cut, with pointed hoods and the arms of 
 Saint Albans painted on a black cope. The two 
 lines meet in front, and facing the audience sing 
 the opening chorus — telling of the pageant and 
 
 75 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 what it is proposed to show. All the words have 
 been written and the music composed for the 
 occasion. At the completion of this song the 
 choristers march to the center of the grandstand 
 and take their places about the orchestra, where 
 they sing a running commentary during the in- 
 termissions of the acting — explaining the course 
 of the city's history, in each case preparing us 
 for what is to come. The music and the acting is 
 practically continuous, there being only two 
 pauses " between acts '' so to speak. After the 
 first song is over and while the orchestra con- 
 tinues playing, one sees far in the distance 
 among the trees the procession of white bearded 
 Druids approaching, while from another direc- 
 tion comes a stream of people, ancient Britons by 
 their dress. 
 
 There is not time nor space to describe in detail 
 the different scenes, eight in all, illustrating the 
 history of Saint Albans ; a very brief summary 
 must suffice. The first scene tells of the Druids, 
 their preparations for a human sacrifice which 
 are interrupted by the last stand of the British 
 chief Cassivelan against the Roman power. Most 
 effective was the messenger rushing wildly in 
 from the left of the stage bringing tidings of 
 British defeat, and the arrival of the Romans 
 on splendid horses. The costumes are accurate 
 
 76 
 
THE SAINT ALBANS PAGEANT. 
 
 and beautiful, the grouping spirited and effect- 
 ive, the lines well spoken, and the whole dra- 
 matic effect very thrilling. 
 
 The second episode is the revolt of the British 
 Queen Boadicea against the Roman power; her 
 first success, her later defeat and death. 
 
 The third is the martyrdom of the Roman, 
 Albanus, for assisting at the flight of an aged 
 Christian from the city. 
 
 The fourth is the visit of the Saxon King Offa ; 
 the discovery of the bones of Albanus or Saint 
 Alban ; and the founding of the celebrated Abbey. 
 
 The fifth is the funeral procession of Queen 
 Eleanor, as her body journeys toward London. 
 This was a wonderfully effective picture — entire- 
 ly in dumb show accompanied by appropriate 
 music; the hearse drawn by six black-robed 
 horses; King Edward in his black armor and 
 his attendants all in mourning are met by the 
 brilliantly robed clergy of the city, who escort 
 the hearse to its temporary resting place in the 
 Abbey church. 
 
 Sixth comes the revolt of the peasants under 
 Richard II., the arrival of the King and his 
 court, his success in turning aside the revolt and 
 the punishment of its leaders. 
 
 Seventh comes the most stirring scene of the 
 series — a representation of the second battle of 
 Saint Albans, in the Wars of the Roses. Here 
 
 77 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 were whole companies of knights on horseback ; 
 King Henry VI., Queen Margaret, the young 
 Prince of Wales, (a handsome little fellow, and 
 sitting his horse like a prince) ; here were cross- 
 bowmen and foot soldiers — in numbers enough 
 to give one a pretty good idea of an army. After 
 a little marching and counter-marching we have 
 the battle — and an exciting affair it is. The 
 bowmen shoot their arrows, the knights charge, 
 advance and retreat ; and finally we have the de- 
 feated Yorkists dashing madly off, pursued by 
 their victorious foes. The horses tear at full 
 gallop across the stage, then along the banks at 
 the rear; then we see them leaping over the 
 brook in the distance, a glittering array of steel 
 helmets and flashing swords. It is a fine show 
 of horsemanship as well as a spirited picture. 
 
 Eighth comes the visit of Queen Elizabeth to 
 Saint Albans; the introduction to her of young 
 Francis Bacon; and the morris-dancing and 
 other celebrations in her honor. This is the rich- 
 est and most elegant of the scenes — the one in 
 which the gentry of the neighborhood take part. 
 
 Then lastly comes a grand parade and march 
 past of all the actors — over two thousand in all. 
 In stately procession which turns back and forth 
 across the ample stage we see them all — Druids, 
 ancient Britons, Roman soldiers, citizens and 
 ladies, Boadicea and daughters in her chariot, 
 
 78 
 
THE SAINT ALBANS PAGEANT. 
 
 King Offa and his Saxon court, King Edward I. 
 and bis mourning attendants, Richard II. and 
 his train, the revolting peasants, Henry VI. with 
 his steel-clad knights and nobles, and lastly 
 Elizabeth and her gorgeous court— old men and 
 women, young men and women, boys and girls 
 and even babies — it is a wonderful crowd, a re- 
 markable show, a blaze of beautifully harmon- 
 ized and contrasted colors, a sight never to be 
 forgotten. 
 
 If the Oxford pageant was more beautiful than 
 that at Saint Albans, it certainly must have 
 been a marvelous show. We returned filled to 
 the brim with interesting and beautiful scenes, 
 and went to sleep in the old inn at Hertford 
 which has been an hostelry for over three hun- 
 dred years. 
 
 Truly, we are in a land of history. 
 
VIII 
 
 ACROSS THE CHANNEL 
 
 Paris, 
 
 Monday, July 22, 1907. 
 After "pajing," at Saint Albans, (to adopt 
 Punch's word), our next duty was to get to 
 France as soon as possible; but having three 
 days to utilize before that on which we had en- 
 gaged passage for the Green Dragon from South- 
 ampton to Havre, we determined to go back to 
 Salisbury to see Stonehenge; and also to take 
 a little run in the New Forest. So from Hert- 
 ford and its hotel three centuries old, we turned 
 to the southwest and crossed the Thames at 
 Maidenhead. Here we stopped for luncheon and 
 found the river looking so attractive that we 
 could not resist the temptation to row a short 
 distance upon it, even at the risk of a late arrival 
 at Salisbury. So up the lovely Thames we rowed, 
 until we saw in the distance the great house 
 at Cliveden, which Mr. Astor purchased from the 
 Duke of Westminster, standing in its superb sit- 
 uation high above the river. Below the house 
 and rising from the river bank in a mass of splen- 
 did foliage are the " hanging woods of Clive- 
 den '' — that famous grove of trees, the pathway 
 
 80 
 
ACROSS THE CHANNEL. 
 
 through which the present owner endeavored to 
 close up, until he found that in England common 
 people have rights of way which even an aristo- 
 cratic expatriated American is bound to respect. 
 The sun was so bright, and the river so blue, 
 and the shores so green that it was a hard matter 
 to tear ourselves away from it all; and we were 
 almost tempted to give up all plans for any 
 other country than England; but other counsels 
 prevailed and the Green Dragon flew on with 
 us towards Salisbury. 
 
 All the afternoon we ran over those smooth 
 English roads through the lovely English scen- 
 ery, and the setting sun found us speeding over 
 Salisbury plain. It was one of those rare mo- 
 ments that will linger longest in our memories. 
 The wondrous blaze of color, pink and yellow, 
 gradually fading in the western sky ; the smooth, 
 straight, white Roman road, ever unrolling itself 
 ahead of us, up and down over the undulating 
 plain; a weird and desolate landscape, without 
 a human being or habitation in sight, barren of 
 grain or foliage, and stretching away as far as 
 the eye could reach ; the Green Dragon flying his 
 fastest, mile after mile, with a smooth momen- 
 tum of speed that carries us down hill with a 
 swoop, and up hill with a rush and whirl; and 
 then, just as evening settles down and darkness 
 
 8l' 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 is stealing up behind us from the east, suddenly 
 the road, which has been heading straight for 
 Old Sarum, turns abruptly to the left, and we see 
 rising from the valley below us a great spire 
 pointing heavenward, and down we drop to 
 Salisbury, having enjoyed that somewhat rare 
 experience — a new sensation. 
 
 I have already spoken of Salisbury and Old 
 Sarum. Stonehenge lies off to the northwest, 
 Just bej^ond Amesbury, a queer, quaint, quiet 
 little village ; which aroused itself enough at our 
 arrival to have a dog fight, but that being over, 
 went to sleep again. Everyone knows Stone- 
 henge by sight — that weird circle of giant stones 
 standing out on the plain, of unknown origin, 
 but connected somehow or other with Druidical 
 worship. They say that the stones are so placed 
 that on mid-summer day the sun rises just be- 
 tween the two stones farthest east ; there is every 
 probability, therefore, that one object of the cir- 
 cle was to keep track of tlie calendar. As in most 
 great sights one must use his imagination a little 
 to see it to advantage; but Stonehenge, as it is 
 the largest, is certainly the most impressive 
 monument of a vanished race and a vanished 
 religion. 
 
 82 
 
ACROSS THE CHANNEL. 
 
 From Salisbury it is a short run to Romsey, 
 with its thousand-year-old Abbey church — a 
 church well worth seeing; and close by are the 
 borders of the ISew Forest. 
 
 The New Forest is only eight hundred and 
 forty years old — old enough for its newness to 
 have worn off, but its name is still appropriate — 
 in England. It is a large tract of land which 
 William the Conquerer appropriated for royal 
 use as a chase or hunting enclosure. The un- 
 fortunate people whose lands were thus calmly 
 confiscated were forbidden under all sorts of 
 cruel penalties from entering ; and when no less 
 than three of William's immediate descendants 
 lost their lives while hunting there, it was whis- 
 pered about that this was Heaven's punishment 
 for his cruelty toward the old possessors. 
 
 The greater part of the New Forest belongs 
 to the Orow^n, although some of it has been dis- 
 posed of to private owners. Like other old crown 
 possessions, however, the balance is no longer the 
 personal property of the King. George III. in 
 his time, being in great need of money, made 
 over the crown property in a lump to the nation 
 in exchange for a fixed and stated income. What- 
 ever property, therefore, the royal family now 
 possesses has been acquired since King George 
 thus turned the crown lands over to the State. 
 It may be added that the State has made a good 
 
 83 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 thing out of the transaction, as the income is 
 far in advance of the allowances made in return 
 for it. 
 
 The scenery of the New Forest is varied and 
 interesting. There are fine trees, high hills, pic- 
 turesque valleys, barren upland and leafy forest. 
 One afternoon is too short a time to allow for see- 
 ing its beauties ; and walking is better than mo- 
 toring for that purpose. 
 
 We went to the place where stands the monu- 
 ment marking the spot where the body of King 
 William Eufus, the son of the conqueror, was 
 found. The story told afterwards by one of his 
 knights, Walter Tyrrell was to the effect that the 
 King shot at a deer and missed ; and then called 
 to Tyrrell to shoot. Tyrrell let fly his arrow ; it 
 struck a tree, glanced aside and pierced the body 
 of the King. As no one else Avas present they 
 never knew whether this story was true or not, 
 and as the King was a most odious scoundrel 
 nobody cared. Tyrrell fled to France, the Refl 
 King's body was found by a charcoal burner in 
 the forest, thrown into his cart and car- 
 ried to Winchester where it was buried in the 
 Cathedral. 
 
 This was in 1100 and one would naturally 
 suppose at this late day that few people would 
 
 84 
 
ACROSS THE CHANNEL. 
 
 take much interest in William Rufus. Almost 
 every other choice rascal in history has found 
 his apologist; Froude spent many years and 
 many volumes in whitewashing Henry VIII ; even 
 Alexander Borgia has had pleasant words writ- 
 ten about him ; while his daughter, Lucretia, has 
 been discovered to be a rather estimable 
 lady; and our own Senator Lodge, wishing to 
 manufacture some history on his own account, 
 and finding that none had as yet tried the white- 
 wash brush on Richard III., has risen to the de- 
 fense of that engaging person. But no one so 
 far as I know has yet discovered that William 
 Rufus was a statesman and a saint ; and it is all 
 the more curious therefore that the Rufus stone 
 has had to be securely enclosed in an iron cover- 
 ing to keep people from chipping it to pieces and 
 carrying it off for relics. Why anj^one should 
 want a relic of Wiliam Rufus — especially a piece 
 of a stone monument erected centuries after his 
 death, is certainly a mystery. 
 
 One entrance to the New Forest is close to 
 Southampton; and so the afternoon found us 
 back at our starting place. 
 
 There is another mystery. One would think 
 that there would be enough passage between 
 England and France, or at least enough competi- 
 
 85 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 tion between different railroads to encourage 
 suitable steamers across the channel. I have 
 known those steamers now for thirty -five years, 
 and smaller, more miserable and insufficient 
 boats are nowhere to be found. From time to 
 time one hears of fine new boats plying between 
 England and the Continent; but my experience 
 of the channel steamer is, that as the French 
 say, the more it changes the more it is the same 
 thing. 
 
 Our experience this time was like former ones ; 
 we found a miserable little apology for a steamer 
 crossing from Southampton to Havre — so small 
 that the weight of the Dragon made it take a list 
 to one side; and if we had been unfortunate 
 enough to have had rough weather — oh, my ! 
 Fortunately^ the sea was quiet and gentle, and 
 we reached La Havre early in the morning in as 
 good condition as the vilest cup of coffee ever 
 served by mortal man would permit. 
 
 Havre is a place not without interest, as any 
 city in a fresh country is bound to be; yet it is 
 one of those places from which one escapes as 
 soon as ijossible. People usually land from the 
 boat and leave at once for Kouen, Paris or some 
 other destination. The fact that w^e spent the 
 greater part of the day there was not our fault — 
 
 86 
 
ACROSS THE CHANNEL. 
 
 it was the tide. Our small steamer was so low 
 in the water and the rise and fall of the tide on 
 the French coast is so great that the Green 
 Dragon could not be landed until afternoon; 
 and then came the customs, and the red tape of 
 registration and driving licenses; so it was late 
 in the day before we were taking our first ride 
 in France. 
 
 Now we had to learn all over again to turn 
 to the right and pass by on the left — the Frencli 
 custom being like ours. In fact I think there 
 are only two countries in Europe where they 
 turn to the left — England and Austria. I well 
 remember years ago as a boy when crossing by 
 train from Germany to i^ustria my amusement 
 over the delay while the trains were carefully 
 shifted from the right hand track to the left. It 
 seemed to me odd, then, and it still does. 
 
 ^ 
 
 Hardlj^ were we outside of Havre when we 
 came to a halt in the old town of Harfleur, to 
 see a fifteenth century church with a fine spire, 
 built by the English King Henry V. Harfleur 
 used to be the port at the mouth of the Seine; 
 and it is at it's seige that Shakespeare's Henry 
 urges his men to the assault, in that magnificent 
 passage beginning: 
 
 87 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 " Once more into the breach, dear friends, 
 once more ; 
 Or close the wall up with our English 
 dead!'' 
 
 Harfleur was taken and remained English for 
 many years; and one relic of the occupation is 
 this fine church spire. 
 
 It was at Harfleur also that we had a chance 
 to observe one characteristic of the French — 
 good-natured curiosity. As we drove up to the 
 church the Green Dragon injured a paw — (some 
 would have called it a punctured tire, I suppose), 
 so that our stop was less brief than we had in- 
 tended. However, as we formed a free enter- 
 tainment to a large section of the population for 
 a considerable period of time, we certainly re- 
 paid Harfleur for whatever architectural knowl- 
 edge we gained from the church. Men, women 
 and children all gathered about us, and apparent- 
 ly discussed our manners, customs, appearance 
 and characters with zest and humor. But if 
 we amused them they did us, so we were quits. 
 
 Presently we were off and away, up the valley 
 of the Seine, along the base of bold chalk cliffs, 
 on a delightful road which ran smooth and white 
 before us in long, even stretches which tempted 
 us to a test of the Dragon's limit of speed. Oh, 
 
 88 
 
ACROSS THE CHANNEL. 
 
 these French roads! If England's roads were 
 fine, what word applies to these of France? The 
 country is certainly a paradise for the motorist. 
 No finer roads could be imagined; they were 
 everything that a road for motoring should be — 
 wide, smooth, long stretches, low, even grades 
 when ascending the steepest hills — roads that 
 are a constant marvel to us who have been 
 brought up on the miserable combination of ruts, 
 quagmires and morasses that usually do duty 
 for roads in our beloved State of New York. 
 Would that the entire Board of Supervisors of 
 every county in the State could take a fifteen 
 minute ride on a French road ! They would then 
 know what a real road looks like. 
 
 We had made no plans for the night when we 
 left Havre, thinking that if the roads were good 
 we might get as far as Rouen. When, however, 
 we glanced up a side valley and caught a glimpse 
 of Lillebonne, with a fine church spire and the 
 ruins of an old Norman castle perched on a hill, 
 we decided to stop there. We were glad we did 
 so; for we found ourselves in unadulterated 
 France. An old inn with tiled floors, queer little 
 bedrooms opening off rambling passages, minute 
 water pitchers, feather beds for bed covers, stuffy 
 little dining room, but delicious food, and 
 
 89 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 candles for lights — there was no doubt of our 
 being in France. Nor was there next morning 
 when we paid our garage bill of ten centimes — 
 two cents. 
 
 Lillebonne is a very interesting place; it was 
 important in the time of the Romans when Gaul 
 was a province, and has still the impressive re- 
 mains of a Roman theatre. Then there is the 
 old castle where William the Oonquerer assem- 
 bled his barons to unfold to them his plans for 
 the conquest of England. These things we saw 
 next morning and then journeyed on to Rouen 
 over those wonderful roads. We stopped on our 
 way to see the quaint little Norman town of 
 Caudebec, with its interesting church; and took 
 a slight detour from the main road to see the 
 wonderful ruins of the Abbey of Jumieges. We 
 hear and read much of the ruined castles and 
 abbeys of England; but almost nothing about 
 those of France. Yet Kenilworth castle is not 
 to be compared with Ooucy; nor Fountains Ab- 
 bey with Jumieges. In fact few travelers know 
 anything of France; to most Americans France 
 means Paris — a very ridiculous idea; as though 
 one should ignore all New York State except 
 the City. 
 
 In Rouen we spent the afternoon wandering 
 about one of the most picturesque and inter- 
 
 90 
 
ACROSS THE CHANNEL. 
 
 esting cities in the world. Two great churches 
 of the first rank, one of the second, a dozen or 
 more of the third, a Gothic Palais de Justice 
 unrivaled among municipal buildings, many 
 quaint old houses and some very fine ones, old 
 towers and crooked streets — Rouen has preserv- 
 ed more mediaeval treasures than almost any 
 other place in France ; and one afternoon was far 
 too short a time there. 
 
 It were too much to tell of all we saw the 
 next day on our road to Paris — quaint old 
 churches and stained glass windows; but one 
 thing must be mentioned — Chateau Gaillard. 
 Perched up on a high rock at the center of a 
 lovely bend of the Seine stands the ruins of Rich- 
 ard Coeur de Lion's " Saucy Castle,'' which was 
 in its day a marvel of military architecture, and 
 is now^ one of the most interesting of ruins. 
 Richard intended to dominate the river approach 
 to his rival's domains; for rivers were in those 
 days the great arteries of commerce. But Philip 
 Augustus was wise; he bided his time. Richard 
 of England died and after him came John; and 
 while John was having the nice little row with 
 his subjects which ended in the Great Charter, 
 Philip laid seige to Chateau Gaillard; and after 
 some months it was his, with all the rest of 
 
 91 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 John's French dominions — and a very good rid- 
 dance for England it was, too. The view from 
 the old castle is beautiful, and well worth the 
 climb. 
 
 As we neared Paris it was quite evident that 
 we were in a country of motoring. The splendid 
 roads have been literally ploughed into furrows; 
 and we had a chance to appreciate the furious 
 speed at which these people drive, for twice on 
 this unfortunate day the Dragon went lame with 
 a punctured paw. So we had to draw up by the 
 roadside and be showered with dust, while motor 
 after motor dashed by. The nearer we came to 
 the great city the more there were; until as we 
 drove up the Avenue of the Grand Army, around 
 the Arch of Triumph and down the Champs Ely- 
 sees — we found the whole center of the street re- 
 served for motors — an endless procession of all 
 sorts and sizes, tooting horns and flashing lights 
 until one is dizzy and deafened with the noise 
 and the whirl and the dirt. Tired and dusty 
 we descended at last at the door of this best of 
 little hotels — and soon forgot punctures, dirt and 
 other miseries in hot water and a dinner such 
 as Madame, the proprietress, alone knows how 
 to provide. 
 
IX 
 
 PARIS 
 
 (and a sermon) 
 
 Beauvais, 
 
 Friday, July 26th, 1907. 
 
 Paris and London have often been compared 
 and contrasted, but the advent of the automobile 
 gives one an entirely new basis for doing so. If 
 London is the despair of the motorist Paris is 
 his joy. Here you no longer And narrow, crook- 
 ed streets, so crowded with jostling humanity 
 that progress is always difficult and often well 
 nigh impossible; on the contrary there are so 
 many wide avenues and spacious boulevards that 
 one is inclined to believe that Baron Haussman 
 and the other projectors of modern Paris must 
 have forseen the advent of motor cars and plan- 
 ned accordingly. The whole center of the 
 Champs Elysees leading to Napoleon's great 
 Arch of Triumph is now reserved for motors ; and 
 they whizz by in ever increasing numbers and 
 ever increasing rapidity; for if there are any 
 speed laws in Paris no one pays any attention 
 to them. 
 
 But if Paris is the city of the motorist it is 
 becoming decidedly less pleasant for other folk. 
 The noise is distracting and the dust disagree- 
 
 93 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 able. This formerly quiet little hotel where we 
 are stopping now, resounds not only all day but 
 most of the night with the ceaseless " honk- 
 honk '' of the passing motor, tooted in every 
 possible key and with every variety of whirr and 
 clank from wheels and chains and gearing. The 
 motor-'busses in London are noisy and disagree- 
 able enough; but here are motor-'busses and 
 motor-cabs and motor-draj^s and private motor- 
 cars enough to make one think the greater part 
 of the population of Paris is engaged in tearing 
 about on or in motors of some kind. 
 
 This motor craze and the new and wonderfully 
 beautiful vista opened from the Champs Elysees 
 across the Alexander bridge to the Tomb of Na- 
 poleon at the Hotel des Invalides are the only 
 special changes one sees in Paris. The number 
 of Americans, to be sure, is larger than ever, and 
 one hears the high-pitched voice and nasal twang 
 constantly ; but that is more or less true all over 
 Europe. Here it is more — herds of young Ameri- 
 can women fill the shops, and numberless young 
 American men throng the boulevards. 
 
 Stepping into a drug store the other morning 
 my ear was caught by a feeble request made to 
 the clerk for some remedy for a headache. 
 
 I looked around and saw a pleasant and in- 
 genuous appearing young fellow-countryman 
 
 94 
 
PARIS. 
 
 looking, as the boys say, " like the last hope." 
 I recognized his complaint at once ; he had been 
 ^' seeing Paris." To judge by the expression of 
 his countenance the morning after, he was not 
 happj^ ; and I felt like drawing him one side and 
 giving him a good, solid talk. I should have said 
 something like this : 
 
 ^^My young friend, you want a specific for a 
 headache — I will give you the best: Don^t get 
 one. What is the use of throwing away your 
 time, your health, and perhaps the most precious 
 thing that nature has given you, for what? For 
 the sake of ^seeing Paris'? Why, bless your 
 simple heart, you have not been seeing Paris. 
 You have been wasting the precious hours over 
 things that are not particularly Parisian. You 
 can see them in any city where the greed of man 
 pampers to vice and folly. 
 
 " If you want to see Paris, first find out what 
 there is to see in Paris that you cannot see any- 
 where else in the world. You will soon discover 
 that there is here a great Cathedral, one of archi- 
 tecture's noblest creations, an exquisite chapel of 
 the purest Gothic, the like of which is nowhere 
 else to be seen on earth ; a palace-museum of un- 
 limited extent and filled with the choicest treas- 
 ures of art of all nations and all periods ; many 
 other museums, churches, palaces and galleries 
 where a man can spend endless hours of absorb- 
 
 95 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 ing study; streets filled with bits of interesting 
 old buildings, and historical associations which 
 make one long for an additional life-time for 
 reading and study. All these wonderful oppor- 
 tunities face you in every direction, with wide 
 open doors inviting you to enter — ^yet you, blind 
 and foolish youth, pathetic in your crass igno- 
 rance, and quite mistaken in your assumption of 
 superiority over the beasts of the field, you turn 
 away from all these, and spend your nights and 
 waste your days over ' seeing Paris.' 
 
 '' Paris is, of course, to be seen as you saw it 
 last night, if one wishes. It is still, as Matthew 
 Arnold called it, ' the city of the average sensual 
 man.' There is an undoubted glamor about a 
 certain kind of vice in Paris which is absent else- 
 where — and it flourishes openly and un- 
 ashamed. But what then? It is essentially the 
 same thing that you may see everywhere, in 
 every large city. You can find nothing in Paris 
 that you can't find in London, in Berlin, in Vi- 
 enna; j^es, and in New York and Pittsburg as 
 well. 
 
 ^^As for a certain variety of 4ife ' in Paris 
 — the Moulin Rouge and that kind of thing — 
 (I do not know, but you probably do, whether 
 the Moulin Eouge is the present type of what 
 I mean, but it was a few years ago; just as the 
 Jardin Mabille was in a former generation) ; 
 
 96 
 
PARIS. 
 
 as for that, judging from all I have heard, it 
 is the greatest fake and humbug. Enterprising 
 caterers to wealthy youth and ignorance find out 
 what is wanted and provide it. Fake students 
 from a fake Latin Quarter are hired to come to 
 these delectable joints with their fake compan- 
 ions; fake dances are arranged and carefully 
 rehearsed so as to be sufficiently shocking; a fake 
 riot is duly inaugurated when required; and fake 
 policemen break up the fake orgy. With enough 
 wigs and grease paint and appropriate costumes 
 you can do the whole thing at home perfectly well 
 — if you want to. But the idea that by partici- 
 pating in such affairs you are seeing real Pari- 
 sian ' life ' is a delusion affecting in its simp- 
 licity. 
 
 " You may, if you like, visit a Cafe Chantant ; 
 hear indecent songs that you can't understand, 
 and make the acquaintance of various undesir- 
 able people who are waiting for such ^ suckers ' 
 as you; but there is nothing new about that, 
 either — it is the ordinary Tenderloin music hall, 
 with a few added electric lights and a little more 
 dress (or undress), rouge and powder. 
 
 " To sum up : You can get your headaches 
 quite as well nearer home, and much cheaper 
 than by coming to Paris. If you travel far 
 experience, to see new sights and learn new 
 things — in short, for the only things that mate 
 
 97 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 the fatigues of travel worth while, you will 
 omit the Tenderloin — which in Paris is really 
 less characteristic than it is elsewhere, for 
 it is largely constructed for just such rich and 
 foolish Americans as you, and is hardly French 
 at all — and ' see ' the Paris that is worth see- 
 ing — the Paris of art and history, the Paris of the 
 Louvre and Luxembourg, — of the Hotel Oluny, 
 the Sainte Ohapelle and the Cathedral of Notre 
 Dame, — the Paris that you never can see else- 
 where, the only Paris that makes Paris toler- 
 able. 
 
 " Now, foolish young brother, go home and 
 ponder these Avords of wisdom. You have seen 
 Paris — and have gained a headache and a long 
 dull sermon — Heaven send that you have gained 
 nothing worse ! You have lost time and sleep — 
 Heaven send that you have lost nothing more 
 precious! Go home, go to bed and take a long 
 nap — and don't make a fool of yourself any 
 more." 
 
 After this, if my young friend had not bolted 
 before the sermon was finished, I should have 
 helped him to a cab and paid the fare to his hotel. 
 
 But seriously, is it not a sad commentary upon 
 our system of education and training of the 
 young that about nine-tenths of the young men 
 who come to Paris — and I am ashamed to say it is 
 not confined to young men, either — have this 
 
 98 
 
PARIS. 
 
 idea ; that " seeing Paris '' consists in wasting 
 time over tiresome old indecencies that can be 
 just as well seen in their own cities — if one wants 
 to see them at all? 
 
 It must be confessed that Paris is to the sensi- 
 tive American an essentially disagreeable city. 
 In spite of its wonderful beauty, of its marvelous 
 treasures of art, of its rich and interesting his- 
 torical associations, there is something about the 
 " city of the average sensual man '' that grates 
 upon Anglo-Saxon nerves. The true Ameri- 
 can will have too much of the Puritan in him to 
 like it ; and all the better that he has, too. Every- 
 where in the city harmony there is this false note 
 — now here and now there, now loud and now 
 soft, but always present. It is in the faces of the 
 people, it is in the jokes of the comic papers, 
 the pictures in the shop windows, on the stage 
 and in the streets; it is in their art and their 
 literature — a taint in the blood which it will take 
 generations to wipe out. 
 
 But this is sermonizing — not dragonizing. 
 Still we must somehow give the Green Dragon 
 a chance to rest, to procure extra stockings and 
 shoes, to prepare for mountain climbing — in 
 short, to get ready for a flight across France to 
 
 99 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 Switzerland. And as we are in Paris we enjoy 
 some of its sights. We pay visits to the Cathe- 
 dral, the Sainte Chapelle, the Cluny museum, and 
 the Tomb of Napoleon. We have a glimpse at 
 the wonders of the Louvre — we marvel anew at 
 the beauty of the Venus of Milo, at Michael 
 Angelo's Dying Slave ; we stand in reverence be- 
 fore the rich canvasses of the mighty painters; 
 and when our eyes are tired, and also our legs, 
 for these picture galleries are scant of seats and 
 the floors are most horrid slippery, then we drive 
 out to the park — the Bois de Boulogne — and pay 
 our tribute of admiration to the city of Magnifi- 
 cent Vistas. 
 
 We have had great difficulty in shaking the 
 dust of Paris from our feet. Intending to make 
 an early start in the morning, it is ten-thirty a. m. 
 before we are ready, and six p. m. before the 
 Dragon is ready. It is no one's fault — ^just the to- 
 tal depravity of inanimate things, concerning 
 which the essayist wrote. As we pass by the 
 great Arch of Triumph, and take a last look back 
 down the long avenue of the Champs Elysees to 
 the Obelisk in the Place de la Concorde, and 
 beyond that to the Tuileries Gardens and the 
 Louvre, one has to admit that in spite of its 
 faults, Paris is wonderfully beautiful — so lovely 
 
 100 
 
PARIS. 
 
 and so interesting that it makes one sorry to have 
 said unpleasant things about it. Can we not 
 distinguish between the place and the people? 
 Perhaps we could sing of Paris as the hymn- 
 maker does of Ceylon, as a place 
 
 " Where every prospect pleases 
 And only man is vile." 
 So, thinking of many things, we turn our faces 
 away from the great city, and start for Switzer- 
 land. 
 
A CROSS COUNTRY RUN 
 
 Pierrefonds, 
 
 Saturday, July 27, 1907. 
 
 Paris as a city is a motor's paradise, if one 
 wants to motor in a city ; but motoring in a city 
 and touring by motor are two quite separate 
 and distinct things. London is hard to get into 
 and bad to get out of, because of its narrow, tor- 
 tuous streets; Paris is hard to get into and bad 
 to get out of, for a different reason — because 
 most of its approaches, although by broad thor- 
 oughfares, are paved with the most deadly pave- 
 ment known to motors. " Pavee '' is the French 
 term ; and they distinguish between " Mauvais 
 pavee '' and " Bon pavee,'' although to us it 
 seemed as if it were all bad, though some is 
 worse than others. Pavee means a pavement of 
 more or less square blocks of stone, driving over 
 which produces that pleasing sensation known 
 as '' chattering of the teeth." It is about as 
 trying to the nerves of the motorist as it is to 
 the mechanism of his motor. 
 
 The game then, when it comes to arriving at 
 or leaving Paris, is to find a route, no matter 
 how circuitous, which will avoid the roads 
 
 102 
 
A CROSS COUNTRY RUN. 
 
 pavee. Of course these good roads are all cut 
 up by the thousands of other motors which are 
 engaged in the same game ; so the supreme object, 
 the prize as it were in the game, is to find a road 
 both unfrequented and not pavee. 
 
 In our endeavors to play this game successful- 
 ly we found ourselves starting for Switzerland 
 by going to Beauvais ; and starting for Beauvais 
 on the north by going to Pontoise on the west. 
 
 As has been stated, owing to various causes 
 the Green Dragon did not get started from Paris 
 until after six o'clock in the afternoon; but we 
 determined to start in any event, and get as far as 
 we could before stopping for the night ; so we set 
 forth manfully and reaching Pontoise in the 
 course of an hour and a quarter we sat down to 
 dine, planning to resume our journey in the 
 evening. 
 
 Now this was a mistake ; traveling by night on 
 unknown roads is not to be recommended; but we 
 had become so proficient in following the excel- 
 lent French motor maps that we had grown con- 
 ceited, and were sure thero would be no difficulty 
 whatever. Moreover we are very hungry. So we 
 had our dinner in true French fasliion out in the 
 street in front of the hotel at Pontoise, while 
 a large section of the town's population came to 
 inspect the Green Dragon; for all Frenchmen 
 
 103 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 are interested in Dragons, Gryphons, Hippo- 
 griphs and such large game, and apparently view 
 with special interest a real American dragon. 
 
 After an hour's delay, (and a pleasant meal), 
 we set gaily off, little recking of what exciting 
 sport we were soon to have. The sun had set in 
 a blaze of red and gold, and the light still linger- 
 ed in the western sky; but we had lighted our 
 lamps, knowing that Beauvais was still far off. 
 Our road at first ran along the banks of the 
 gentle river Oise, with pleasant little villages 
 dotting its banks. Unfortunately the dotting on 
 our side was so frequent that it soon became 
 quite impossible to say which pleasant little vil- 
 lage it was that we were in, or where we ought to 
 turn off for Beauvais. " This must be the turn- 
 ing,'' says one of the party. " Let's ask," says 
 another. 
 
 Now our party is distinguished for many 
 things. If it were necessary we could name 
 several desirable and some highly decorative 
 qualities in which our party is unusually strong; 
 but proficiency in conversing with and under- 
 standing the French tongue is not one — except 
 when we arrive in German speaking countries. 
 Then our French suddenly becomes bounded ap- 
 parently only by the limits of the grammar and 
 the dictionary. We all feel, not that in France 
 
 104 
 
A CROSS COUNTRY RUN. 
 
 our French is not excellent and accurate, but 
 that French people speak so carelessly and with 
 so little regard for distinct and correct pronun- 
 ciation, — and are so very slow in understanding 
 good French when they do hear it. 
 
 There is another curious thing about us : When 
 anyone says, " Let's ask,'' he invariably means 
 " let's you ask." This of course is modesty; but 
 it is apt to give rise to the retort, " Well, go 
 ahead and ask," — which, of course, is only an- 
 other way of saying ^^After you, my dear Al- 
 phonse." However, if the truth is to be told 
 the result usually is that nobody asks and that 
 we remain as wise as at the beginning. The 
 map-reader, after waiting in vain for some one 
 to ask, tells the driver to go ahead. 
 
 But this is a digression. 
 
 In this case we did ask the way, and from 
 everyone we asked we received the impression 
 that any visible road would take us to Beauvais; 
 so guided by the invaluable map we took a road 
 which turned away from the river. 
 
 Alas the day! The road which looked very 
 promising at first soon began to narrow and to 
 run up hill in quite an undignified fashion ; ulti- 
 mately showing decided signs of following the 
 example of that celebrated western road which 
 ended in a squirrel track and ran up a tree. But 
 
 105 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 we followed it — we had to. The Green Dragon 
 never turns back ; for one reason if for no other — 
 it requires a large section of a ten-acre lot to 
 turn around in. In this case there seemed to be 
 no ten-acre lot in which to perform the operation. 
 We had to go on for the good reason that we 
 couldn't go back. 
 
 Finally we emerged in the open country — the 
 road had taken it into its head to become pas- 
 toral. It led us through fields of lovely grain — a 
 great many of them. At another time we might 
 have appreciated them — but there certainly was 
 a great deal of them. There were fields of grain 
 to the right of us, and fields of grain to the left 
 of us, fields of grain behind us, and apparently 
 an endless succession of fields of grain in front 
 of us. We became suddenly very grateful for the 
 long twilights of this region — for instinct told 
 us that if we kept running toward the sunset 
 light in the west long enough, we must ultimately 
 strike something in the shape of a road; for our 
 road had now become a mere farm track running 
 about through endless fields. There was not a 
 house in sight — nothing but waving grain; in 
 France there are no fences — nothing to show that 
 we were anywhere rather than some other where. 
 We seemed alone in unlimited space — a speck in 
 the midst of a universe of grain fields. 
 
 The light faded from the sky. It was of course 
 
 106 
 
A CROSS COUNTRY RUN. 
 
 utterly out of the question to turn back. The 
 danger of getting stalled in the attempt was too 
 great. Visions of accident to the Dragon pre- 
 sented unpleasing possibilities and some of us 
 began to get decidedly nervous — when we sud- 
 denly became aware of a strange radiance which 
 touched to gold the ripening grain at our side— 
 from some unknown distance a search-light had 
 flashed its brilliancy upon us ! 
 
 Anything more weird and mysterious can 
 hardly be imagined. One moment we were feel- 
 ing ourselves utterly alone and deserted in the 
 midst of a boundless prairie in the gathering 
 night; and the next, from somewhere in the re- 
 mote darkness — where we know not nor by 
 whom, we were bathed in unearthly light and 
 visible to the eyes of beings we could not see and 
 whose purposes we did not know. 
 
 Was that a row of trees in front? If so, it 
 must be a road ! The light flashes off, and then 
 travels slowly back to us. Apparently our 
 movements are interesting to those unseen and 
 unknown watchers. Can we signal to them the 
 danger of our plight? Would they understand? 
 At all events we must keep the Dragon in motion 
 The slightest stop might be fatal. Is that a 
 house? Alas, no! — only a haystack; but the 
 
 107 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 ground seems firmer under us, and perhaps we 
 are heading for a road, i^t last as we peer more 
 intently into the darkness ahead we see a succes- 
 sion of blacker shades. At last, thank goodness, 
 a road ! We don't much care where it leads, for 
 it must lead somewhere. And we all breathe a 
 deep sigh of relief as we pass a line of poplars 
 and find ourselves on a firm white roadway. 
 The searchlight flashes away and is gone. 
 
 We proceed to examine maps and consult sign 
 posts and question every night stroller we meet, 
 until we are back at last on our road and safely 
 driving in the direction of Beauvais. There we 
 arrive shortly after eleven o'clock, tired and only 
 too glad to spend the night in comfortable beds 
 rather than camping in the open air. 
 
 But we think for a cross country run we can 
 recommend the Green Dragon. Whether he 
 would follow the hounds over hedges and brooks 
 we are not quite sure; we will wait until we re- 
 turn to England before trying ; but we have quite 
 decided to climb either Mount Blanc or the Mat- 
 erhorn in the Dragon; we can't as yet decide 
 which. 
 
 But what was the meaning of that search- 
 light over those vast fields of grain? And who 
 were the unknown watchers? 
 
 108 
 
XI 
 CHURCHES AND CASTLES 
 
 Commercy, 
 
 Monday, July, 29, 1907. 
 
 It was not alone for the purpose of getting the 
 best run out of Paris that we went to Beauvais — 
 it was to see the great church there; for Beau- 
 vais' colossal fragment of a Cathedral is one of 
 the most impressive buildings in France. Start- 
 ing out boldly in the fifteenth century to build 
 the largest church in Christendom, the good peo- 
 ple of this little town got as far as the choir and 
 transepts, when faith or money or both gave out. 
 They boarded up the nave as best they might, 
 and there the magnificent structure stands, the 
 symbol of an ideal too lofty to be realized. There 
 is something pathetic in its unfinished immensity, 
 as it rises like a huge perpendicular cliff out of 
 the sea of small buildings about its base. I know 
 of no other structure that gives one quite such 
 an idea of soaring grandeur, both inside and out. 
 
 And the Cathedral is not Beauvais' only claim 
 upon the traveler's time. It has another inter- 
 esting church; and its streets and great square 
 are filled with quaint old houses. One longs to 
 stop and ramble about at leisure and get well 
 acquainted with its curious nooks and corners. 
 
 109 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 An early afternoon's run, with the accom- 
 paniment of a smart shower, took us through 
 smiling fertile country to Compiegne, where as 
 the Green Dragon needed a little extra attention 
 after the cross country run of the evening before 
 some of us had time to go through the Palace. 
 This royal residence was occasionally visited by 
 the old kings of France for the purpose of hunt- 
 ing and was the favorite dwelling place of Napo- 
 lean III. There is a great deal of handsome satin 
 hangings and furniture still there, and a great 
 many bad paintings. These palaces are on the 
 whole very dreary places. If they possess any 
 rooms at all suggestive of comfort and conveni- 
 ence, they are carefullj^ kept from the eyes of 
 visitors; and one walks on slippery waxed floors 
 from the blue antechamber of the queen to the 
 green work-room of tlie king, without seeing a 
 single spot where under any possible set of cir- 
 cumstances one can imagine oneself or anyone 
 else feeling at home. To be sure one can occupy 
 oneself by deciphering the many excellent moral 
 lessons which are writ large upon the walls for 
 those who have eyes to see; but vanitas vani- 
 iatum while doubtless very edifying, is a rather 
 mournful text after all,* upon a pleasant, sunny 
 afternoon. 
 
 But if the palaces are dreary the gardens are 
 usually bright and cheerful. While not as beau- 
 
 110 
 
CHURCHES AND CxVSTLES. 
 
 tiful as the English gardens, the aim of which is 
 to reproduce and perfect nature, there is yet a 
 great charm about these French gardens with 
 their long vistas through thick verdure ; their 
 formal groupings of gravel walks, white statues, 
 cool fountains and clipped alleys; with some- 
 times, as at Compiegne, an extended view of dis- 
 tant hills and forest. We sat in chairs, for 
 which we were called upon to pay the sum of 
 two cents apiece, and leaning back against a 
 balustrade and had a delightful dream in the 
 warm sun, (for the morning's shower had quick- 
 ly passed), until the Green Dragon was ready to 
 run on again. And a most delightful run it 
 was, of three-quarters of an hour through the 
 forest of Compiegne; until we turn abruptly 
 around a bend — then we see a little town nest- 
 ling in the valley, a little river winding through 
 it — and above river and town, dominating the 
 scene with a force and power like that of the 
 Cathedral of Beauvais — standing like the real- 
 ization of some poet's dream of the Middle Ages 
 — the great castle of Pierrefonds. 
 
 It was built in the beginning of the fifteenth 
 century by Louis, Duke of Orleans, the brother of 
 the crazy King Charles VI. It was a fortress 
 and palace in one; so strong that like Chateau 
 
 111 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 Gaillard or Coucy it was all but impregnable. 
 In later times, after it had become the policy of 
 the crown to weaken the great feudal lords, its 
 demolition was ordered by Cardinal Richelieu. 
 It was too expensive a job to carry out this order 
 thoroughly with such an enormous mass of 
 masonry, but the castle was partially destroyed 
 and rendered useless for purposes of warfare. 
 
 Later on the property reverted to the crown; 
 and it was proposed to reconstruct the castle 
 as a sample of what a complete mediaeval castle 
 looked like. This was ultimately carried out un- 
 der Napoleon III. by the great architect, VioUet 
 le Due, who gave many years' study to the 
 problem. 
 
 The result is what we see; a castle which is a 
 veritable vision of mediaeval times. It looks new 
 to be sure — the great fortress with its seven 
 huge towers has the appearance as if it was just 
 ready for the lord and his retainers to move in. 
 In fact one feels as if it would not be at all in- 
 congruous to have a company of steel-clad war- 
 riors come clattering around the castle and over 
 the drawbridge, with the Duke himself at the 
 head — perhaps to see if the carpenters have at 
 last finished the woodwork in the great hall, or 
 if the plumbers have yet put in the last of those 
 great lead pipes which carry the water off the 
 roof. 
 
 112 
 
CHURCHES AND CASTLES. 
 
 How delightful under such circumstances it 
 must have been to be a haughty Lord of the Mid- 
 dle Ages : " By my halidome, Master Carpenter, 
 an' ye be not finished with the woodeworke of 
 my Ladye's chamber within two dayes — nay I 
 will give thee but twenty-three hours and fifty- 
 nine minutes — I will have thee soundly whipped. 
 Fifty lashes per minute for all over tyme — and 
 ten lashes for pourhoire to boot — lazy knave 
 that thou art ! Or perchance I will e'en knocke 
 thy procrastinating pate from off thy bootless 
 bodye. See ! '' and with these words the Baron 
 turned upon his iron heel and left the trembling 
 caitiff to say an ave, and then hasten again to 
 his work with a righte goode wille. 
 
 Or even more gladsome would be a scene like 
 this : " Gadzooks/' quoth the Duke, kicking in 
 his rage the stool at his feet clean out of window ; 
 ^^ Gadzooks ! and also Odsbobs ! I will beare this 
 no longer. It is the third leake in the joints of 
 that gargoyle. Yanke me hither yon prevari- 
 cating plumber. Miserable wretch/' roared the 
 Duke as the village plumber was dragged before 
 him, '' know ye not that ye came to this castle 
 at mine owne expense neither to run up and 
 down stairs for exercise after each separate 
 toole, nor yet to flirte with ye scullery maide; 
 but to lay real pipes that water would run 
 thru? Look at that gargoyle — it has already 
 
 113 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 been repaired three separate and distincte tymes ; 
 and verily I believe tliat each tyme thou comest 
 thou pokest a new hole in it. Now thou shalt 
 have all the water that thy infernal leakes let 
 thru poured down they gaping gullet.'' At this 
 fearful sentence the miserable plumber gave a 
 ghastly shriek, and did fall in a swoon; but no 
 one felt pity-» for every man present had suffered 
 alike at the hands of the plumber. 
 
 Yes, it must have been pleasant at times to 
 have been a media3val baron! But this is a di- 
 gression. 
 
 After a night at the nice little Hotel des Bains 
 which lies at the foot of the hill, we were shown 
 through the great castle the next morning; and 
 after luncheon were again under way. Another 
 delightful ride through beautiful golden fields of 
 ripening grain, lovely green river meadows and 
 quaint little towns, brought us to the edge of a 
 hill, where looking across the valley we saw on 
 the opposite height the splendid donjon keep and 
 encircling towers of Ooucy le Chateau. 
 
 The little town nestles back of the castle and 
 is still surrounded by its massive walls and 
 gates. The Dragon carried us up the hill, under 
 the frowning archway, through the tortuous 
 streets, across the moat and into the outer wards 
 
 114 
 
CHUECHBS AND CASTLES. 
 
 of the castle itself. A trite but oft-recurring 
 thought again naturally suggested itself : What 
 would the old knights and ladies have thought 
 of such a party? How surprised the proud Sire 
 de Coucy — so proud that he took for his motto : 
 " I am no King ; neither Prince nor Count. I 
 am the Lord of Coucy;'' — how surprised he 
 would have been to have even dreamt of such a 
 modern intrusion into his walls. He wouldn't 
 have been so much surprised at a Green Dragon 
 scrambling up the hill spitting fire and smoke 
 and ringing at the castle gates — that he would 
 have been half prepared for; but the riders — 
 those curious new types of human beings with 
 their modern notions of Democracy and Equality 
 —these he would have wondered at. And then 
 follows always the equally trite thought; what 
 additional changes has the future in store for the 
 children of men? 
 
 We wandered over the ruins, ascending the 
 mighty donjon — a tower of such superb masonry, 
 with its walls twenty-four feet thick, that when 
 they tried to demolish it in the reign of Louis 
 XIV. by setting off a great charge of gunpowder 
 inside, it simply blew out five vaulted ceilings, five 
 floors and the roof, as if from the mouth of a 
 huge cannon; and the walls of the tower with 
 the exception of a slight crack were left intact. 
 
 115 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 J^nd there it stands today, an example of what 
 can be done in masonry when honest workman- 
 ship is united to intelligent design. 
 
 From Coucy we took our way to Reims (or 
 Rheims as the English spell it), across more 
 fields of waving grain, along more pleasant val- 
 leys, and up across more hills. The whole of this 
 section of France is an enormous elevated pla- 
 teau or table land, into which the rivers have cut 
 valleys of varying widths, and which at the top 
 is flat. After crossing one valley and ascending 
 again to the table land, we could see far off over 
 the lower levels toward the east to Loan on the 
 top of its hill, with the Cathedral towers form- 
 ing a landmark for miles around. Loan is set 
 on an isolated fragment of the great table land 
 which rises like an island out of the plain. We 
 ought to have turned aside, but our faces are 
 set towards Switzerland, and the Alps beckon 
 us on. Moreover, to the south of us as we fly 
 over the firm white roads, rise other and greater 
 cathedral towers; and soon we are entering 
 Reims where the Porta Martis, the old Roman 
 gateway, still stands, and find ourselves in front 
 of the Cathedral. 
 
 " The choir of Beauvais, the nave of Amiens, 
 the towers of Chartres, the facade of Reims,'^ — 
 these form the elements of a perfect cathedral, 
 
 116 
 
CHURCHES AND CASTLES. 
 
 according to a French saying. Alas ! the facade 
 of Reims is now undergoing restoration and is 
 hidden by an ugly mass of scaffolding, behind 
 which the beautiful old sculpture, exquisitely 
 colored by the centuries, and interesting because 
 it is the real thing, is being replaced by smug, 
 smooth and uninteresting modern work which is 
 not and never can be the real thing. Why do 
 they not cover the old carvings with some prepa- 
 ration to preserve them and prevent further de- 
 cay, but leaving them so far as possible as the 
 builders left them. They have suffered enough 
 from destruction without adding restoration. 
 Everywhere we go the demon of restoration pur- 
 sues us. We could not see the great tower of 
 Canterbury — they were restoring it; we could 
 not see the front of Rouen Cathedral — they were 
 restoring it; now we can't see the special glory 
 of Reims — they are restoring it. Thank Heaven, 
 they can't be restoring the Alps ! 
 
 However, there is another glory that Reims 
 possesses that we may enjoy— the wonderful 
 stained glass. The west windows, to be sure, 
 are darkened by the scaffolding outside; but as 
 we enter the church and look up at the clerestory 
 windows we see the sun glistening through such 
 wondrous combinations of ruby, emerald, sap- 
 phire, topaz and amethyst as the eastern story- 
 
 117 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 teller imagined in the windows of Aladdin's pal- 
 ace. We realize now the purpose the Gothic 
 architects had in mind when they built their 
 churches so as to get the greatest amount of win- 
 dow space. 
 
 The glass in the lower windows at Reims was 
 all smashed at the time of the Revolution, the 
 upper windows being saved by the difficulty of 
 getting at them; so there they still stand, the 
 very same pictured saints and prophets that 
 looked down upon Joan of Arc when she brought 
 her king here to be crowned. For it was at 
 Reims that all the kings of France came to be 
 crowned and to be consecrated with the sacred 
 oil which a dove once brought down to St. Rem! 
 when he baptized Clovis. The sacred oil had a 
 way of miraculously renewing itself; so that it 
 was always fresh and ready whenever there was 
 a coronation to be performed. 
 
 A curious superstition truly ! but not half so 
 strange as that other superstition which kept 
 men faithful and loyal and submissive to those 
 same kings of France, generation after genera- 
 tion. Look at those men as century after cen- 
 tury they succeeded one another to the crown, 
 — heavens, what a set! Fancy anyone bowing 
 down and thinking those miserable creatures 
 divinely appointed to rule. Among all the kings 
 of France for five hundred years you will find 
 
 118 
 
CHURCHES AND CASTLES. 
 
 but one good, clean, able man — Louis IX., the 
 Saint; and one good, able man who was not 
 clean, Henry IV. — Henry of Navarre. All the 
 rest are at the best stupid and worthless like poor 
 Louis XVI., who lost his head ; and at the worst 
 are unspeakable tyrants and blackguards like 
 Louis XI., whom readers of Quentin Durward 
 will remember. 
 
 And of the whole line none was more shift- 
 less, contemptible, weaker and more treacherous, 
 and that is saying a great deal, than the man in 
 whose service and for whose sake poor Joan of 
 Arc did her wondrous work. It is the maid of 
 Domremy whose figure we see in imagination 
 standing in the choir of Reims Cathedral, not 
 that of the miserable creature upon whose head 
 the crown rested for a brief span. His life was 
 for a day; hers is forever. He is remembered 
 now only as one of the most revolting figures in 
 all history, related as he was to one of the noblest 
 figures in all history. 
 
 A visit to Joan's birthplace is one of the rea- 
 sons for our coming to France ; so the next morn- 
 ing, after stopping a moment at the church of 
 8t. Remi to see the shrine of the saint and some 
 more glorious stained glass a century still earlier 
 than the windows of the Cathedral, we leave 
 Reims and lunch at Chalons-sur-Marne at an 
 
 119 
 
ADVENTURES OP A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 hotel named with an ingenuous irreverence truly 
 French, "The Holy Mother of God/' (La haute 
 Mere de Dieu ) . 
 
 A mile or two east of Chalons we find ourselves 
 passing a noted place of pilgrimage ; an exquisite 
 little church — Notre Dame de TEpine, or Our 
 Lady of the Thorn. A shepherd once found a 
 statue of the Virgin behind a thornbush; mira- 
 cles were performed ; a church grew up, and this 
 beautiful building was the result. There is no 
 time to describe it; there was but little time to 
 inspect it; we must hurry on to Commercy for 
 the night. Over hill and valley we fly through 
 the long summer afternoon; the broad white 
 Eoute Nationale unrolling itself before us mile 
 after mile — hour after hour. Again through end- 
 less fields of ripening grain; the road now bor- 
 dered with tall poplars, and now with uninter- 
 rupted views over the broad expanse of sun-lit 
 golden wheat. 
 
 Then we find ourselves in grateful shadow as 
 we plunge through the cool recesses of the forest 
 of Commercy, and reach this little village where 
 we find another nice inn and a good dinner, 
 ending with the little cakes for which the town 
 is famous — the Madelaines of Commercy. 
 
XII 
 
 THE JOAN OF ARC COUNTRY 
 
 Langenthal, 
 
 Wednesday, July 31, 1907. 
 
 Heavy showers in the night had washed all 
 aature clean and tempered the heat of the pre- 
 vious day when w^e started out from Commercy. 
 The clouds hung low at first ; but as the morning 
 wore on the sun shone through, and certainly the 
 valley of the Meuse is as lovely a pastoral land- 
 vscape as it ever shines upon. 
 
 It is interesting and curious how one seems to 
 understand better the careers of men and women 
 in history when one has gone to their places of 
 birth, and looked upon the scenes which sur- 
 rounded them in the impressionable years of 
 childhood. Especially is this true of Joan of 
 Arc. Perhaps because her life was one of such 
 single and definite purpose; or because through- 
 out her career — all her experiences of court and 
 camp, she remained alw^ays the simple peasant 
 girl of Domremy; or because in the records of 
 her trial, and second trial or vindication after 
 her death, we have one of the most complete 
 analyses of any person in history, and so come 
 closer to the influences which surrounded her ; or 
 
 121 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 it may be all three causes. But although we 
 know Joan of Arc so well in one sense; yet she 
 and her career must ever remain one of the 
 marvels of history. Let us recall the outlines. 
 
 England had been warring with France for 
 many years, the original cause being the utterly 
 absurd and ill-founded claim of King Edward 
 III. to the throne of France. The war has been 
 glorified in English history because of the vic- 
 tories of Crecy, Poictiers and Agincourt; never- 
 theless nature exacted her retribution. England 
 paid the penalty for the French wars in the 
 dreadful civil wars that followed — the Wars of 
 the Roses; (was ever such a hideous fact covered 
 with such an attractive name) ? 
 
 In France the Hundred Years' War, as it is 
 called in French history, was a period of such 
 utter misery that as one reads the accounts it 
 seems strange that enough people were left alive 
 to inhabit the country and afford material for the 
 ravages of war, of organized private pillage and 
 the epidemics of horrible disease. When the bat- 
 tle of Agincourt was lost there was no force left 
 in France to continue the struggle ; the King was 
 insane, the Queen was a corrupt woman of aban- 
 doned character, the Dauphin (the heir to the 
 crown) was in hiding, the Duke of Burgundy, 
 
 122 , 
 
THE JOAN OF ARC COUNTRY. 
 
 the greatest noble of Prance, had gone over to 
 the English side, — there was no spirit left in any 
 class to wage an organized resistance. The feud- 
 al system, moreover, by which each man owed al- 
 legiance to some other man, made it almost im- 
 possible for him to realize that there was a duty 
 which he owed to his country. There was really 
 no country — no nation of France for which the 
 sentiment we call patriotism was felt. If the 
 Duke of Burgundy chose to transfer his alle- 
 giance from the King of France to the King of 
 England, he expected as a matter of course that 
 all his lesser nobles and dependants would trans- 
 fer themselves along with him — a rather absurd 
 outcome of any system of human government, 
 when you come to think of it. 
 
 So poor France, torn by civil dissensions and 
 crushed by a foreign foe, w^as handed over to the 
 English King Henry V. by the treaty of Troyes. 
 It was agreed that poor old crazy Charles VI. 
 should bear the title of King for the rest of his 
 life and then King Henry should succeed; and in 
 the meantime Henry should govern as regent. 
 
 But we all know what happens to the best laid 
 plans of mice and men. The English King sud- 
 denly died in the prime of his youth, leaving a 
 baby son ; then a few weeks later the old French 
 King died, and the baby was crowned King 
 Henry VI. of England and France. 
 
 123 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 Minorities were always troublesome things in 
 those days; and had the heir to the French 
 throne been half a man he would have taken im- 
 mediate advantage of the situation. But dis- 
 couraged, and forsaken by all but a few adher- 
 ents, he was wasting his time in dissipation in 
 the little territory that was still left to him 
 south of the river Loire, conscious that with the 
 fall of Orleans, a loyal city beseiged by the En- 
 glish, even that little would be lost to him and 
 no course would be left but flight into Spain. 
 Then suddenly there came an event which might 
 well be termed miraculous. 
 
 In the central and eastern part of France, in 
 the lovely and quiet valley of the Meuse, lies the 
 little village of Domremy. On the borders of the 
 town in the year 1422 lived Jacques D'Arc and 
 his family. They were simple peasants of the 
 better class, owning a small house with animals 
 and fowls. It was a remote community owing 
 allegiance, unlike most places about it, directly 
 to the King of France. It had itself known little 
 of the horrors of the Hundred Years' War; but 
 of course even into that peaceful region had come 
 dreadful tales of the suffering and deeds of vio- 
 lence which were i)revalent throughout France; 
 and once the villagers had to fly for refuge to the 
 
 124 
 
THE JOAN OF ARC COUNTRY. 
 
 town of Neufchateau, while the village and its 
 flocks and herds were given over to the mercy of 
 the marauders. With the other houses that of 
 Jacques D'Arc suffered from fire. Among his chil- 
 dren was a daughter, Jeanne, (Joan or Jane is 
 the less musical English version of the name). 
 She was a girl of singular goodness and simple 
 sweetness of character ; but there had been noth- 
 ing else to distinguish her from the rest of the vil- 
 lage maidens. Suddenly she paralyzed with as- 
 tonishment her family and friends by telling them 
 that she must go at once to the aid of the King 
 as it was her mission to save France. 
 
 It seems that for some years past she had been 
 having occasional visions. She believed that St. 
 Michael, St. Catherine and St. Margaret had ap- 
 peared to her; and that heavenly voices had 
 warned her of work which God had ordained 
 that she should do. Her voices now told her that 
 the time had come and revealed to her the first 
 step. She was at this time seventeen years old. 
 
 Of course her father treated her as any man of 
 common sense would have done, and sternly for- 
 bade her to undertake any such ridiculous es- 
 capade. The King was many miles away at Chi- 
 non, south of the Loire ; the road to which place 
 lay straight through country held by the English, 
 and difficult for even a man-at-arms to pass — for 
 a young girl quite impossible; even if there was 
 
 125 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 anything a simple and ignorant peasant girl 
 conld do for the King after she got there. The 
 whole idea was manifestly preposterous. Joan 
 yielded for a time to her father; for she was a 
 good, obedient girl ; but her voices would not let 
 her rest, and persisting in her plan, she at length 
 persuaded her uncle Laxart to take her to Vau- 
 couleurs, a small town to the north of Domremy. 
 Here lived Eobert, Sire de Baudricourt, a rough 
 knight who was in charge of the castle which 
 dominated the town. Joan asked for an inter- 
 view with Baudricourt and was refused — ^he 
 thought she was crazy. She then took up her 
 residence with a respectable woman in the town, 
 telling everyone that she had been divinely ap- 
 pointed to help the King and to save France ; and 
 that Baudricourt was to send her with an escort 
 of men-at-arms to Chinon. 
 
 Now^ it happened that there was an ancient 
 prophecy that at some time France would be sav- 
 ed by a maiden. The people of Vaucouleurs be- 
 came interested. Everyone who talked with Joan 
 was impressed with her gentle sincerity, and her 
 absolute faith in the divine source of her mis- 
 sion. Finally two young knights volunteered for 
 her service. The talk spread and reached the 
 ears of Baudricourt. He at last became curious 
 and sent for Joan. Utterly skeptical at first, he 
 in the end surprised himself and everyone else 
 
 126 
 
THE JOAN OP ARC COUNTRY. 
 
 by agreeing to do what she asked. Her first mira- 
 cle was performed when, against his own judg- 
 ment, and in utter defiance of all common sense, 
 this rough and ready soldier agreed to do such 
 a preposterous thing — at the behest of this sim- 
 ple peasant girl who could neither read nor write. 
 Or rather the miracle was performed because 
 xShe did not ask him — she told him that he must 
 do it; with such evident belief and faith that at 
 last she forced him also to the belief that he really 
 was going to do it. It is a sample of her power 
 over all those with whom she came in contact. 
 
 So forth from Baudricourt's castle at Vau- 
 couleurs rode Joan the maid, clad for greater 
 safety in a man's suit of mail and attended by 
 a small retinue, straight through the enemy's 
 country. They traveled mostly by night and 
 through many difficulties and dangers, guided 
 always by her shrewd and masterly common 
 ^ense, united with a constant faith in divine 
 guidance. 
 
 It would take too long to tell the whole story, 
 liow at Chinon she recognized the King amid the 
 crowd of courtiers, when they tried to deceive 
 her by dressing up someone else as the King; 
 how she was examined as to her orthodoxy for 
 fear she might be a witch or leagued witli the 
 devil, and came triumphantly out of the ordeal, 
 
 127 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 her simple faith and shrewd common sense baf- 
 fling the clever and learned ecclesiastics who 
 tried to entrap her; how at length she was put 
 in charge of the King's forces to go to the relief 
 of Orleans; how she raised an army and led it 
 against the English who were compelled to aban- 
 don the seige ; how she won victory after victory, 
 in spite of sloth, jealonsy and treachery among 
 those whose business it was to aid her; how at 
 length she brought her King to Reims, and there 
 saw him crowned King of France — the signifi- 
 cance of the act being that until the Dauphin 
 liad been actually consecrated with the sacred 
 oil of St. Eemi he was not regarded as being le- 
 gitimately a King of France. 
 
 Then came the sad and tragic ending — ^her pa- 
 thetic plea to be allowed to return to Domremy 
 and her cows and sheep, asking nothing for her- 
 self ; her yielding to the King's entreaties to re- 
 main as general-in-chief ; the balking by the cow- 
 ardly and treacherous advisors of the King of her 
 plans to take Paris; her being taken prisoner 
 outside the walls of Oompiegene, the gates by ac- 
 cident or treachery being shut against her; her 
 surrender to the English by the Duke of Bur- 
 gundy, one of whose captains had captured her; 
 the dreadful ordeal of her imprisonment; her 
 trial for sorcery by Pierre Cauchon, Bishop of 
 Beauvais, and her final martyrdom at the stake 
 in Rouen. 
 
 128 
 
THE JOAN OF ARC COUNTRY. 
 
 Whatever way you look at it this career has 
 no parallel in history. Never before nor since 
 has there been a commander-in-chief of forces at 
 the age of seventeen. Never has there been such 
 complete attainment of a desired end by the mere 
 force of sublime faith in the power to attain — 
 faith which spread from her own person first to 
 those about her and then to every man in the 
 army, and even to the enemy. Time and time 
 again she would be told by every sensible person 
 that a thing was impossible only to prove by do- 
 ing it that it was possible. 
 
 Then there is that strange side to her charac- 
 ter — a kind of second sight. She at times knew 
 things that were going on in her absence by some 
 remarkable power of divination. She gave or- 
 ders to go to the altar of the church of St. Cath- 
 erine at Fierrebois and they would find a sword 
 which was intended for her. They came back 
 and reported that there was no such sword there ; 
 that no one knew anything about such a sword. 
 She commanded them to go again and look; and 
 digging in the earth behind the high altar they 
 found a sword with three fleur-de-lis stamped 
 upon the blade. This is only one of many such 
 strange incidents in her career. Her recognitioH 
 of the King at Ohinon, although she ha J never 
 seen him before, was another instance of this 
 weird gift. Once at Orleans she started up from 
 
 129 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 her sleep crying that an assault had been ordered 
 without consulting her — which w^as true. She 
 rushed out, jumped on horseback, and arrived 
 just in time to turn defeat into victory. Is it any 
 wonder that she was thought to be divinely in- 
 spired; and who will say that she was not? She 
 saved France. She is the very ideal of patriot- 
 ism — something which so far as I have read had 
 ^lardly been known before in the history of the 
 world. She was above all, unselfishness personi- 
 fied. When asked by the King after his corona- 
 tion to choose her reward she would demand 
 nothing for herself except the privilege to return 
 to her peasant's life; when further pressed to 
 name some substantial reward, the only boon she 
 would ask was that her beloved Domremy should 
 be forever relieved from taxation. The re- 
 quest was granted; and for over three hundred 
 years thereafter Domremy escaped that buMeii; 
 but the Revolution, which swept away so many 
 things, good and bad, swept away this with the 
 rest, and Domremy now has no exemption. The 
 one reward she asked of France is denied; al- 
 though they erect huge memorials and bad 
 statues by the dozen. 
 
 [Speaking of memorials and statues it is not 
 a little extraordinary, considering the interest 
 there has been in Joan of Arc through all the 
 centuries, how utterly feeble and inept are most 
 
 130 
 
THE JOAN OF ARC COUNTRY. 
 
 representations of her. In literature she has 
 never been worthily portrayed ; none of the 
 greatest musicians have found inspiration in her 
 story ; and when we come to painting and sculp- 
 ture it is far worse. 
 
 Of all the many statues that I have ever seen of 
 Joan of Arc only three are bearable ; the martial 
 little figure by Fremiet, who reins in her horse 
 and raises her banner aloft, in Paris where 
 the Rue des Pyramids runs into the Rue de 
 Rivoli ; the charming, simple little figure by the 
 Princess Marie of Orleans which stands in front 
 of the Hotel de Ville at Orleans ; and the one by 
 Dubois in front of the church of St. Augustin in 
 Paris, and again in front of the Cathedral of 
 Reims — the one riding forward with her sword 
 held out in her right hand and her sweetly plain 
 face irradiated as with a vision. All the rest, if 
 not simply leather and prunella, are disfigured 
 stone and worthless bronze. In a different cate- 
 gory are the two groups, one in marble in the 
 garden at Domremy, and the fine bronze in front 
 of the Memorial church. 
 
 Of all the pictures I know only one is bearable ; 
 the "Vision'' by Bastian Lepage in the Metropoli- 
 tan Museum in New York, a fine conception; but 
 the rest might all go on the rubbish heap with 
 small loss to the world. That is, all except the 
 
 131 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 lovely little volume by Boutet de Monvel. That 
 is a veritable gem, and should be owned by every 
 
 one interested in Joan of Are]. 
 
 Thinking of all these tilings we were carried 
 by the Green Dragon into Vaueouleurs that 
 cloudy morning and drew up at the church. 
 It is a building of much later date than Joan of 
 Arc — seventeenth century; but it is on the site 
 of the one which Joan attended while she was 
 waiting for Baudricourt to be convinced. It has 
 two modern stained glass windows to her mem- 
 ory ; one showing her riding forth from Vaucoul- 
 leurs, and the other the dreadful last scene at the 
 stake in Rouen. 
 
 From there we climbed the hill to the ruins of 
 the castle. There is not much left of it; but that 
 little is interesting. Here is the tiny little base- 
 ment chapel in which Joan spent the ^ast night 
 in prayer before setting out on her wondrous 
 mission; and there is the tower and the very 
 gateway whence she rode forth. It is quite evi- 
 dent that very few tourists come here; old houses 
 and sheds utilize the remains of the old towers; 
 weeds and nettles grow thick about the frag- 
 ments of wall; and we might have carried away 
 bodily many old bits of carved pillars and tra- 
 ceried stones that lay about, had we been so 
 
 132 
 
THE JOAN OF ARC COUNTRY. 
 
 minded. In the midst of the castle rnins they 
 have started to build a memorial in the shape of 
 a lofty tower; and the substructure and first 
 story are finished. It looks ugly enough to make 
 one wish they wouldn't. 
 
 Then we drove on down the lovely valley, with 
 tall poplars lining the course of the river; and 
 beyond the river and the meadows the long, quiet 
 lines of green hills. Soon we came to a quaint 
 little village, with nothing to distinguish it from 
 the others we had passed through ; but we knew 
 from our map that we had reached sacred ground 
 — it is Domremy — " Domremy la Pucelle " its 
 full title now — Domremy the Maid. At the far- 
 ther end — the south end of the village, perhaps 
 fifty or sixty feet back from the high road, in the 
 pleasant garden which pious hands have preserv- 
 ed about it, stands the little stone house — the 
 birthplace and residence of Joan of Arc until 
 she went forth to accomplish her mission. It is 
 of course the simplest of peasant houses. Over 
 the door is a tiny Gothic niche and a crude little 
 kneeling figure, which Louis XI., the son and 
 successor of Joan's king, Charles VII., caused to 
 be placed there. Inside are dark and bare rooms ; 
 the one living room and three small chambers, 
 one of them pointed out as Joan's. Upstairs is 
 a pathetically dull little museum. The Kevolu- 
 
 133 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 tion destroyed what few real relics of Joan ex- 
 isted — so they have here made a collection of 
 various prints, photographs and copies of paint- 
 ings, statues, engravings and other representa- 
 tions of Joan and various incidents in her life. 
 And if anyone wishes to realize how hopelessly 
 the general run of mankind can fail in catching 
 the spirit of the divine, where it is so plain, let 
 him come here and study these banal produc- 
 tions. We have here mincing Joans, pretty- 
 pretty Joans, conscious-saintly Joans, theatrical 
 Joans, fine lady Joans, corset-model Joans— 
 every variety one might say except the real Joan 
 — the plain country maid, guided by the divine 
 voices, and beautiful with the beauty of her sim- 
 ple goodness and glorious faith in her God and 
 her mission. 
 
 We enter our names in the visitors' book, 
 among those of many French, a few English, and 
 so very few Americans that they could almost 
 be counted on your fingers ; and then we return 
 to the sunlight which has now broken through 
 the clouds. So much in the world has changed, 
 yet here is the very house in which she lived, 
 there are the high road, the river, the meadows, 
 the woods and the everlasting hills — the very 
 scene that daily met the eyes of that wonderful 
 girl while she was preparing for her divinely 
 appointed task. From the front of the house 
 
 134 
 
THE JOAN OF ARC COUNTRY. 
 
 there is a good view up and down the valley and 
 along the hillside to the fine new memorial 
 church they are building. 
 
 The Dragon carries us up through the grain 
 fields and along the hillside to the new church. 
 It is on the site of the spot on the edge of the 
 woods where Joan saw her last vision at Dom- 
 remy — when the Saints appeared and her voices 
 commanded her to go and save France. A fine 
 group of sculpture stands at the front of the 
 church, Joan with St. Michael, St. Catherine and 
 St. Margaret. We go inside, but the church 
 is not yet finished. A nice little priest, very in- 
 genuous and confiding, shows us about. He 
 wishes us to see all there is and explains to us 
 carefully what it is to be like when finished. The 
 frescoes which had been prepared were not right, 
 and could not be accepted, he tells us. Why? 
 Well, they were neither religious enough nor 
 historical enough. When we tell him that we 
 are from America and wanted especially to 
 come over to see the birthplace of Joan of Arc, 
 he is much touched and interested; and takes 
 us out on the balcony to admire the lovely view. 
 After we have photographed the view and shown 
 the proper appreciation he is still more delighted. 
 Then we ask permission to make a slight dona- 
 tion toward the completion of the church and he 
 
 135 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 quite overflows with gratitude. He confides to 
 us that they are planning a grand festival in 
 memory of Joan of Are ; " but you know, Mon- 
 sieur, what a sad state of things is now in 
 France.'' Alas! Our knowledge of French is 
 not sufficient to enter into a discussion of Church 
 and State, even were it tactful to embark upon 
 it ; so we presently make our adieus. '' Wait a 
 moment/' says the little priest, " I will show you 
 something,'' and he hurries to his house, which 
 is a few steps down the road. He is evidently 
 greatly pleased at our interest, — another sign 
 that tourists are rare. Soon he emerges from the 
 house with an old black leather case in his hands 
 which he tenderly opens and shows us two small 
 ivory bas-reliefs, each about six inches square, — 
 two scenes from the life of Joan very delicately 
 and beautifully carved, and quite evidently old. 
 ^^ Is it not a treasure?" says the little priest 
 proudly. We agree that it is. " It is very old — it 
 belongs to her time," he continues. The ivory is 
 quite yellow from age, it is true, but judging by 
 the style of the carving we cannot agree with him 
 — it is quite evidently of a considerably later 
 date ; but it is not necessary to argue the point. 
 We congratulate him warmly on his treasure, and 
 with many expressions of thanks on both sides we 
 exchange pleasant farewells, and he returns with 
 the precious carvings to his house while the 
 Dragon carries us back to Domremy, where we 
 
 136 
 
THE JOAN OF ARC COUNTRY. 
 
 rejoin the high road, and turn south to Neufcha- 
 teau. It has been one of the most interesting of 
 the Green Dragon's experiences. 
 
 After lunching at Neufchateau we have an 
 afternoon's rapid run through a very interesting 
 country — ever increasing mountains and deeper 
 valleys. The villages here are quite diflferent 
 in character from those in northern and central 
 France. We observe — indeed we can't help ob- 
 serving — that it is the fashion to have one's 
 manure pile at the front door of the house rather 
 than in the back garden. We had read that this 
 was the usual Alsacian method of showing 
 wealth — but it is not a pretty nor a pleasant 
 method. 
 
 The French custom of having the main road 
 wind about through the town continues. In Eng- 
 land the roads in the country twist and turn, but 
 as a rule go straight through a town or village; 
 in France the roads are straight in the country, 
 but twist and turn through the towns. It is one 
 of the many entertaining differences between 
 the two countries. 
 
 We reach Montbeliard for the night — a pleas- 
 ant little town near the borders of France, with 
 a large garrison of soldiers living high up in an 
 old castle turned into barracks. Here we find 
 the usual good hotel, and have, as usual, a good 
 
 137 
 
ADVENTURES OP A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 dinner, for a really poor meal is rare in Prance. 
 At night we are asked to register our name» — 
 which is unusual ; but we are near the border of 
 Germany and spies are not unknown. 
 
 The next morning we are up in good season 
 only to find the rain pouring down as if it at last 
 meant business; but taking plenty of time in 
 our preparations for leaving, we are rewarded 
 with our usual good luck; the rain stops, the 
 clouds drift apart — and soon after we start the 
 sun shines gaily again. A short run brings us to 
 Delle, the last French town on the border; we 
 have our French customs receipt endorsed, we 
 pay the necessary Swiss duties, and have the 
 Green Dragon duly inspected and stamped, go 
 through the perfunctory customs examination, 
 they don't even take down the trunk behind- — 
 simply ask a few questions and take our word 
 that we have nothing dutiable) ; then we drive 
 on, take deep breaths of the mountain air, which 
 we already imagine tastes richer and sweeter 
 than that which we have been breathing— we are 
 in Switzerland. 
 
XIII 
 
 ENTERING SWITZERLAND 
 
 Axenfels, 
 
 Friday, August 2, 1907. 
 
 ^' I shan't advise any friend of mine to bring 
 his motor to Switzerland, ye know," said an 
 affable Englishman to us in the garage at Lu- 
 cerne ; " why, ye know you can go by railway to 
 every one of these bally pimples ! '' 
 
 To those unversed in the elegant diction of 
 the modern Briton, I would explain that " bally 
 pimples " referred to Pilatus and the other Swiss 
 mountains. Whether our worthy friend expected 
 to ascend the Rigi or the Matterhorn in his motor, 
 or whether he had merely thought Switzerland 
 was still an untouristed wilderness I do not 
 know. I merely record his touching and beauti- 
 fully phrased sense of disappointment. 
 
 As for us, notwithstanding our cross country 
 run en route to Beauvais, we had no idea of 
 climbing mountains in the Green Dragon, or even 
 of going over high passes — the valleys being quite 
 good enough for us. All we asked of the Dragon 
 was to get us there, and our own legs would do the 
 rest. In other words we came to Switzerland for 
 a mountain tramp — not to fly about with the 
 Green Dragon. 
 
 139 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 However, the Dragon has been of great service 
 in Switzerland, and most delightful the service 
 has been. Moreover a certain amount of moun- 
 tain climbing is necessary in order to get any- 
 where in Switzerland as we soon found out. 
 After passing the frontier and customs at Delle 
 we ran on to a little town called Porrentruy for 
 luncheon; and soon afterwards found ourselves 
 at the foot of the Jura — the range of mountains 
 which lies to the west of the Alps, and which must 
 be crossed in order to reach Lucerne. Our roads 
 were no longer the magnificent highways of 
 France ; although we should all wonder at their 
 excellence if we had them at home. The map 
 showed us various sharp turns and steep ascents ; 
 and there was some question in our minds as to 
 how the Green Dragon would like flying up such 
 roads with our heavy partj^ And certainly the 
 pass over which our road lay had a dubious 
 name — " Le Mont Terrible.'' 
 
 All doubts were soon solved, however. The 
 Dragon started upwards in splendid form; and 
 for seven miles, winding around the bends of the 
 mountains, it took us up, up, up with a steady, 
 easy pull which was a pleasure to witness. We 
 had hardly time to enjoy the views broadening be- 
 hind us ; or to catch glimpses through the moun- 
 tain gaps for miles and miles over the sunny val- 
 leys of France we had left. Up, up, up, around 
 sharp bends of which the map had forewarned us, 
 
 140 
 
ENTERING SWITZERLAND. 
 
 craning our necks to see if we were to meet any 
 other vehicle just around the corner — a sure case 
 of accident if we did. Up, up, up, until at the 
 summit of the pass we came to a halt, to let the 
 Dragon cool down and to look off over the fine 
 view in all directions. The road here ran along 
 a narrow hogs-back, with a steep descent of many 
 hundred feet on each side and high, green moun- 
 tains closing in the views to east and west. There 
 is no mistake — the Green Dragon can climb all 
 right. The descent on the other side is not al- 
 ways so easy, for brakes have a most uncom- 
 fortable habit of burning out. We found run- 
 ning on the compression was the safest and easi- 
 est method of descent, and so reached the foot of 
 the pass in good order. 
 
 For the rest of the afternoon we ran through 
 a wonderful succession of lovely valleys and wild, 
 picturesque gorges cutting through the succes- 
 sive heights between. Magnificent cliffs towered 
 above us; and in some places there was hardly 
 room for both river and road. The close of the 
 afternoon found us still some little distance from 
 Lucerne, so we put up for the night in Lan- 
 genthal — an attractive, clean little Swiss village, 
 with the houses dropped around in most pictu- 
 resque confusion. 
 
 141 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 The next day was August first; and thereby 
 hangs a tale. 
 
 We were all sleeping peaceably in the early 
 morning. One of the party at least had passed 
 a restless night; but had at last subsided into 
 sound repose. Suddenly a roar of brazen trum- 
 pets as if to wake the dead ! A mighty crash to 
 make walls rock and steeples fall asunder! I 
 vaguely wondered whether Pilatus had tumbled 
 over on top of us; or whether I had fallen into 
 Pandemonium ahead of time ; or whether it was 
 only Senator Grady talking to the New York 
 Senate. Then as my scattered senses gradually 
 collected I realized that a brass band was sere- 
 nading us from the square outside ; and that the 
 echo from the buildings over the way, and the 
 quietness of the early morn was increasing the 
 din about threefold. I looked at my watch as 
 well as I could for the noise — it was just five 
 fifteen a. m.. I crept to the chilly window and 
 saw the perpetrators of the outrage — there were 
 just fourteen of them ; and their audience besides 
 myself and other profane sleepers was composed 
 of five boys and a dog. 
 
 Could it be that this was a new or an old Swiss 
 custom of greeting distinguished strangers? 
 After the first sensation of helpless misery sub- 
 
 142 
 
ENTERING SWITZERLAND. 
 
 sided, the absurdity of the thing suddenly came 
 upon us, and we laughed until we cried, and some 
 of us nearly had hysterics. Four mortal pieces 
 did those vile trumpeters play, (and it was one 
 of the very worst bands ever heard) ; then 
 ^' silence, like a poultice, fell '' ; and we thanked 
 Heaven and turned over to go to sleep again. 
 Just as we were dozing off — Hark — Tumpety, 
 tumpety, tum, tum, tum, — on the wings of the 
 dawn comes a distant strain — a repetition of the 
 outrage at a little distance, and we are broad 
 awake again. It is comforting, however, to know 
 that we are not the only victims. 
 
 Four times that early morning did that ridicu- 
 lous band go through this programme in differ- 
 ent places of the town. Later we learned the 
 meaning of it. August first is the day upon 
 which Switzerland celebrates its independence — 
 their Fourth of July in fact. When we learned 
 this we forgave them their bad music ; and were 
 thankful we had not exploded gasoline under our 
 serenaders, as had been suggested. We are very 
 glad Switzerland is free; it is a nice, sensible, 
 well-governed little country ; and we hope it will 
 remain free — but the next time we arrive in 
 Switzerland on the first of August we shall wait 
 and cross the border after six a. m. 
 
 143 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 It was but a short morning's run to Lucerne 
 and there we saw the first snow peaks — that is 
 always exciting. To one who has never seen 
 them before it is indeed a most thrilling moment 
 — one of the supreme moments of life, — when one 
 looks high in the air, and there sees those dazzling 
 fields of eternal snow hanging in the heavens. 
 Even if you have seen it before, you have forgot- 
 ten how wondrously, impossibly beautiful it is. 
 And as you look, comes that stirring within you 
 of the call of the heights — that desire to climb — 
 to mount uj) and up — up to those wonderful 
 fields of ice and snow — up to where you can look 
 far down on the lakes and valleys and the teem- 
 ing cities of men — up among the summits where 
 you can feel that most wonderful thing in na- 
 ture — a perfect stillness. He who cannot feel 
 this Alpine tingle in his blood is greatly to be 
 pitied — like ^^ the man that hath no music in 
 himself and is not moved by concord of sweet 
 sounds.'' To have eyes and see not is as sad as to 
 have ears and hear not. He loses the best and 
 most sublime sensation that the world can give 
 him. 
 
 \p 
 
 Of course we go to see the Lion of Lucerne. 
 Everybody goes to see the Lion, and so we go to 
 see the Lion. Moreover the Lion is worth seeing. 
 It wears well. One does not tire of it, in spite of 
 
 144 
 
ENTERING SWITZERLAND. 
 
 the endless photographs and reproductions one 
 sees everywhere. Only a great work of art can 
 stand such a test successfully. As everyone 
 knows, the Lion is the work of the great Danish 
 sculptor Thorwaldsen, and is in memory of the 
 Swiss guards who were killed in the defence of 
 Louis XVI. in the French Revolution. It is, by 
 the way, an excellent illustration of the value to 
 a town of a genuine work of art. It has probably 
 brought to Lucerne a vast amount of fame and 
 money. They might have entrusted the monu- 
 ment to an inferior artist; and the result would 
 have been a stupid piece of sculpture like so 
 many monuments, and few would have gone 
 around the corner to see it after a few years; 
 instead of which they gave the commission to 
 the foremost sculptor of his time; he gave to 
 Lucerne a great work of art ; and in consequence 
 crowds of people from all ends of the earth flock 
 to Lucerne to look at the Lion, to buy models of 
 it and photographs of it, and to go home and tell 
 all their friends that whatever else they miss 
 seeing in Switzerland they must not miss going 
 to Lucerne and seeing that most impressive and 
 beautiful memorial. 
 
 The drive along the Lake of Lucerne, (or the 
 Lake of the Four Forest Cantons, to give it its 
 
 145 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 full title), is surely one of the loveliest in the 
 world. And no day could have been finer. 
 Clouds there were ; but only light, fleecy ones 
 that moved lazily over the faces of the higher 
 mountains — veiling their beauties only for the 
 moment. We certainly have been most fortunate 
 as to weather on our whole trip; and if we had 
 to name the most beautiful drive of all we have 
 had, surely this afternoon's would come first. 
 Every element of beauty enters in — lake, wooded 
 hills, lofty mountains, wonderful precipices, pic- 
 turesque villages, flowers and sunlight; a soft 
 mist gives a tender blue to the farther distances 
 and completes the glory of color. 
 
 But if the landscape is sublime in its beauty, 
 there is still one drawback for us — the roadway 
 is too narrow. When we meet a carriage there 
 is hardly room to pass; the road is thronged 
 with pedestrians who glare at us with scarcely 
 veiled hatred and contempt ; in passing a motor, 
 (there are other sinners in this Eden), we are so 
 jammed up against the wall that the Dragon 
 scrapes the w^hole side of his body. To tell the 
 truth this road is no place for motors, and they 
 ought to be forbidden, as they are in many other 
 places in Switzerland. 
 
 Arrived at Brunnen we look up at Axenfels — 
 our destination, and wonder whether it is safe 
 for the Green Dragon to attempt climbing the 
 
 146 
 
ENTERING SWITZERLAND. 
 
 mountain. It is well to reconnoitre. So the 
 Dragon remains below while some of us walk for 
 half an hour up the road, to investigate its curves 
 and grades. We decide that it is safe to try it; 
 so waving a white signal to come on, from the 
 last and heaviest curve, we abide the result. Be- 
 fore long we hear the sound of the Dragon whif- 
 fling through the woods; he swings into sight, 
 rounds successfully the narrow curve and goes 
 speeding up the last steep ascent. It is a stiff 
 climb, but the Dragon rises manfully — I sup- 
 pose we should say dragonf ully — to the occasion ; 
 and actually gaining power as he sweeps around 
 the last curve he deposits us, bag and baggage, at 
 the door of the nicest hotel in Switzerland. 
 
 In the evening, after a delicious dinner, as we 
 take our coffee on the terrace and stroll through 
 the beautiful gardens stretched along the top of 
 the cliffs, our eyes are attracted far down to the 
 little town of Brunnen, hundreds of feet below. 
 Every building is ablaze with light, and the lights 
 are reflected in the waters of the lake. The 
 strains of distant music are wafted up to us, and 
 are answered by our own capital band of Italian 
 musicians seated on the terrace. From the sum- 
 mit of the precipice directly across the lake, 
 where another large hotel is perched, comes a 
 shower of fireworks — beautiful rockets which 
 
 147 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 explode in air, letting fall a multi-colored rain of 
 fire down into the water far below. We answer 
 by rival showers and by lighting huge blazing 
 torches along the front of the terrace and 
 through the gardens. It is still the first of Au- 
 gust and we are celebrating Swiss Independence. 
 (We prefer to celebate it in the evening — other 
 things being equal). 
 
 It is a rare and beautiful sight. No wonder 
 those of our party who have never been here be- 
 fore, looking at the dark masses of the huge 
 mountains, at the dimly shimmering snow fields 
 of the Uri Eothstock high up in the sky, at Brun- 
 nen's glittering lights and the still waters of the 
 lake far below us, at the stars and shooting fires 
 above us, and listening to the captivating music 
 — no wonder they smile and with shining eyes 
 cry, " Why, this is fairyland ! '' "No,'' I reply, 
 " it's not fairyland ; it's better ; it's Switzer- 
 land." 
 
XIV 
 
 LEAVING SWITZERLAND 
 
 Chamounix, 
 
 Monday, August 19, 1907. 
 
 This is not a tale of mountain tramping, so 
 it is not necessary to tell of our stay at Axenf els ; 
 of our climb up the Frohnalpstock, — (it should 
 have been a walk, but after we stupidly lost our 
 way it became a climb, and a stiff climb at 
 that ) ; — nor of our disastrous day on the Nieder- 
 bauen (may its name be forever accursed!)- — 
 nor of our surrender to the heat and the horse- 
 flies, so that we tamely exchanged tramping for 
 loafing. Neither shall we allude to certain games 
 of tennis and wearers of pettic — but hush! it 
 would not be fair to tell too much — there are 
 others. 
 
 After a week or so we are ready to move on — 
 at least some of us are. So we tear ourselves away 
 from the charms and charmers of Axenf els; and 
 drive back to Lucerne; going this time to the 
 north of the Eigi, where we find a far less beau- 
 tiful, but wider and safer road than the one along 
 the lake. 
 
 149 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 The Green Dragon, like others of our party, 
 shows a remarkable disinclination to leave 
 places. The only serious trouble we have with 
 him is when we are starting away after giving 
 him a rest. It was so at Southampton; it was 
 so at Paris ; and now it is so at Lucerne. We are 
 ready to leave Lucerne ( after another look at the 
 Lion) immediately after luncheon; the Dragon 
 is not. It is necessary to start early in order to 
 get over the Brunig pass, which is only open to 
 motors between ten and four; that makes no 
 difference to the Dragon, who will start when he 
 gets ready and not before. 
 
 He does not get ready until too late in the 
 afternoon for the Brunig; so after some uncer- 
 tainty as to what is best to do, and some perplex- 
 ing problems of maps and distances, we drive 
 eastward a few miles, back along the road to 
 Langenthal, and then turn south toward Thun. 
 On the whole it is a pleasant outcome. The road 
 takes us through a district untraversed by the 
 tourist, in among ranges of lower mountains, 
 through scenes of quiet loveliness that prevent 
 our regretting the wonders of the Brunig. As we 
 near Thun we have an exciting race with a thun- 
 der storm. It is dark — in fact the evening fell 
 early and very black; we have had to find our 
 way by aid of our electric pocket lamp and the 
 occasional sign-posts, maps being of little use in 
 
 150 
 
LEAVING SWITZERLAND. 
 
 the dark. The heavy, ominous clouds have been 
 gathering all the afternoon, and now the light- 
 ning begins to reveal in sudden flashes the jagged 
 outlines of the distant mountains. As we turn 
 at last into the main road from Berne to Thun 
 the lightning grows fiercer, the growls of thun- 
 der heavier, and we begin to feel that last sudden 
 quiet, — that breathless suspense that precedes 
 the sudden whirls of wind and burst of rain. 
 Reckless of consequences, we speed along the 
 road, plunging into the thick blackness of a patch 
 of forest, dashing up the hill beyond, and making 
 a record run past the outskirts of the town, until 
 we reach the streets and slow up just as the 
 dusty whirlwinds of the storm come rushing 
 upon us. We make a final dash to the hotel and 
 are safely housed when the storm breaks. 
 
 The next morning we breakfast with the glo- 
 rious snow-fields of the Blumlislap fronting us 
 across the lake; and then have a most lovely 
 drive — perhaps even more beautiful than that 
 along the Axen strasse at Brunnen, by the north- 
 ern shore of the Lake of Thun to Interlaken. 
 
 Beautiful Interlaken ! Beautiful, but alas, 
 too well beloved of tourists! Here we are 
 in the social whirl, without question. The hotels 
 are full; the trains are hot and crowded; 
 
 151 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 swarms of hurried travelers are rushing to Mur- 
 ren, to Launterbrunnen, to Grindelwald, over 
 the Wengernalp, up the Jungfrau railway — here, 
 there, and everywhere. We are only too thank- 
 ful after a week in the neighborhood to regain 
 peace and quiet in the shelter of the Green 
 Dragon. 
 
 Here we must pause a moment while I hurl 
 an anathema against the mountain railways of 
 Switzerland. I know all their merits; I realize 
 their convenience in getting you quicklj^ and com- 
 fortably to where you want to go; I am aware 
 that they enable a great many people to visit 
 beautiful spots that they could not otherwise 
 reach ; I am alive to the inevitable " march of 
 progress''; all these things I admit, and also 
 the facts that they are extraordinarily well run 
 and doubtless bring much wealth to the pockets 
 of those who project them and the people of the 
 places they reach. Yet in spite of all this, I wish 
 they had never been born. From the first one up 
 the Kigi to the latest one up the Jungfrau they 
 are hateful things. I can see no advantages suf- 
 ficient to compensate for spoiling the old Switzer- 
 land — the Switzerland we knew and loved, how 
 many years ago? Call it thirty;— the Switzer- 
 land that has partly vanished and is passing to 
 
 152 
 
LEAVING SWITZERLAND. 
 
 give place to a new Switzerland — a Switzerland 
 planned and carried on, not alone for the tourist, 
 but for the cheap and rapid rusher. 
 
 Take Murren as an example. Here is the most 
 heavenly place I know on the earth's surface. 
 To reach it we used to drive leisurely from Inter- 
 laken up that wonderful valley to Lauterbrun- 
 nen ; ever coming nearer to the foot of the Jung- 
 frau, and with the dazzling cone of the Silber- 
 horn glistening ever more brightly against the 
 blue sky. Arrived at Lauterbrunnen, after we 
 had been to see the Staubbach falling like a 
 thin veil of silver mist from the precipice above, 
 we made our preparations for the climb to Mur- 
 ren — a good stiff three hours. When we arrived 
 there we realized that we were up in the world, 
 and felt well-nigh out of the world. Thousands of 
 feet below us at the foot of the cliff we were 
 perched on, lay the Lauterbrunnen valley; and 
 opposite us that range of peaks — the most su- 
 premely beautiful and wonderful sight we had 
 ever beheld — the Eiger, the Monch, the Jungfrau, 
 the Ebnefluh, the Breithorn, and the rest of the 
 " giants of the Bernese Oberland.'' Murren was 
 a village of a few scattered houses, of a few cha- 
 lets for the cattle, and one hotel for those trav- 
 elers who came for physical rest, for mountain 
 climbing, or to let the glory and majesty of this 
 wonderful place sink quietly into the very depths 
 
 153 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 of their being, and so gain new strength and 
 power to face the world and its battles again. 
 
 Nowadays you get into a crowded and stuffy 
 railroad train at Interlaken. You can't see any 
 views without craning your neck out of a win- 
 dow if you have the end seat; and if you haven't 
 you may as well take up a book for jou can't see 
 anything. Arrived at Lauterbrunnen you find 
 yourself at the foot of the most terrifying moun- 
 tain railroad! — one that has a car in which you 
 are hauled, along with other fellow-sufferers, 
 straight up the mountainside several thousand 
 feet by a wire cable which looks, as a friend re- 
 cently remarked to us, about as reliable as a pink 
 candy string ; and as you are hauled slowly and 
 jerkingly up, another car of sufferers is let slowly 
 and jerkingly down. Then at the top of this rail- 
 road a trolley takes you in another crowded car 
 to Murren. There you find the old hotel much en- 
 larged and swarming with people — (you are 
 lucky if you can get rooms at all ) ; you find oth- 
 er large hotels with ball-rooms, tennis courts and 
 afternoon teas — all the agreeable adjuncts of 
 '' the best society.'' You are expected to appear in 
 evening dress for dinner. In short, you might a« 
 well be at Newport or Bar Harbor and be done 
 with it. 
 
 154 
 
LEAVING SWITZERLAND. 
 
 Of course one does not object to dancing, nor 
 tennis, nor afternoon teas, nor evening dress, 
 even in Switzerland, — they are all good things 
 in the proper place and at the proper time; but 
 what folly to give up for these things the enjoy- 
 ment of what Switzerland alone can give you. 
 What a waste of time and money to come to 
 Switzerland only to do what you could do at 
 home just as well ! If you want to climb moun- 
 tains you can't be up all night dancing. If you 
 want to make a business of dancing and tennis, 
 why come to Switzerland? You see it is the 
 same question raised by Paris in another form — 
 a question of the real object of travel — a question 
 of what you come to Europe for. 
 
 For my part I don't think that it was at all 
 worth while to spoil the old Murren for the sake 
 of bringing people here quickly and comfortably ; 
 nobody ought to want to get to Murren quickly 
 and comfortably. The slowness and the toil of 
 the ascent were part of Murren — part of the 
 thing you came for. There is not at all the same 
 argument that there is for attaching town to 
 town by railroads for the purposes of trade. As 
 for the people that come now who otJierwise 
 couldn't, — the great majority of them would be 
 Just as well satisfied to get their dancing and 
 
 155 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 tennis somewhere else. There are only a few 
 who ought to come to Murren who would be cut 
 off if there were no railroad; and the gain of 
 these few is much more than counterbalanced by 
 the loss of what Murren was. 
 
 Only those who have experienced both sensa- 
 tions can realize the difference between the sat- 
 isfaction of a fine view gained by the hard labor 
 of a toilsome ascent, and the same view when 
 one is carried to it by a mountain railway. The 
 whole thing is so cheapened that it is like a dif- 
 ferent thing. Instead of the healthy glow of 
 physical exercise, of the feeling of a reward 
 gained by honest effort, of achieving something 
 you have striven and worked for — instead of 
 these pleasures it is a mere matter of sordid bar- 
 gain and sale. You buy your ticket, step with the 
 rest of the crowd into the car, and the engine does 
 the rest. You arrive at your destination cold and 
 glum; you — but enough of the subject, — it is not 
 pleasant, and it is not the Green Dragon. 
 
 I ought to add that Murren still remains, in 
 spite of the railway, one of the most heavenly 
 places in the world; and some folks find that 
 angelic beings are to be found even where tennis 
 and dancing are indulged in ! 
 
 From Interlaken to Ohamounix there were a 
 number of routes. We selected one and started, 
 
 156 
 
LEAVING SWITZERLAND. 
 
 as usual in fine weather. First to Thun where 
 we lunched and walked once more through the 
 picturesque streets; then to Bern, where we 
 amused ourselves for a few moments watching 
 the antics of the bears wiiich have been there — 
 they and their ancestors, for manj^ centuries; 
 then to Freiburg, another picturesque and in- 
 teresting place where we spent a night; then oia 
 the next day to BuUe. 
 
 Why do I pause at BuUe? Because we paused 
 there ; and decided to run out of our way for two 
 or three miles and visit Gruyeres. A little vol- 
 ume we had about Switzerland told us it was 
 worth a visit; and indeed it was. We found it 
 one of the most fascinating little places that 
 could be imagined; perched on top of a hill, 
 with its walls, towers and castle complete. After 
 ascending the steep old bridle path, and passing 
 through the gateway you felt suddenly trans- 
 ported back into the sixteenth century at least. 
 The quaintest of old houses line the street (there 
 is only one street), and one sees cut in the stone 
 over more than one doorway figures that show an 
 age of over three hundred years. 
 
 At one end of the hill, where is the steepest de- 
 scent to the valley below stands the castle of the 
 old Counts of Gruyeres. The family came to an 
 end in the seventeenth century; and the castle 
 was finally sold by the canton. It was purchased 
 
 157 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 by a Genevan, whose brother was something of 
 an artist, and had studied painting in Paris. It 
 has now passed into the hands of a wealthy watch 
 manufacturer, who makes it his summer home; 
 and who, like his predecessor, has taken pleas- 
 ure in making the castle a veritable treasure- 
 house of old furniture and local history. 
 
 *' Can one see the chateau?'' we asked of a 
 friendly peasant in the valley below, who gave 
 us permission to store the motor in a convenient 
 shed. He shrugged his shoulders. " I don't 
 know," he said ; " perhaps. It is easier for 
 strangers to see it than for the people about 
 here." With this encouragement when we 
 reached the castle we boldly rang at the 
 gate. The concierge looked dubious, and said 
 something about cards. We promptly took 
 out our calling cards — (in Europe an engraved 
 visiting card is a sure mark of proper social posi- 
 tion) — and handed them over. The concierge 
 carried them away, and presently returned with 
 the desired permission. 
 
 A more delightful residence could not be im- 
 agined. We were shown the parlor, a beautiful 
 room wainscoted to the ceiling where Corot and 
 other well known French artists have left valu- 
 able mementos of their visits by painting the 
 panels, (those of Corot are of course worth their 
 weight in gold) ; the dining room frescoed with 
 
 158 
 
LEAVING SWITZERLAND. 
 
 the history of Gruyeres; the bedrooms, with 
 the old four-posted beds; the torture chamber, 
 now a billiard room — a much better use as our 
 guide facetiously observed ; the guard room with 
 a big fire-place where they could roast a whole 
 ox; and the lovely little garden — it was all 
 charming. There was a quaint out-of-the-world 
 flavor about it all that was unmistakable — the 
 men in the streets touched their hats and bade 
 us good morning. It was quite evident that no 
 mountain raihvay had reached Gruyeres as yet ; 
 although a little narrow gauge line has got as 
 far as Bulle. May it end there for many years !^ 
 But this chapter makes itself too long. There 
 is no time to tell about the wonderful view^s over 
 the Lake of Geneva to the Dent du Midi ; of the 
 descent to Vevay; of the ride along the lake 
 »hore and the first sight of Mt. Blanc. Even the 
 wonderful road from Geneva up to Chamounix 
 must be omitted. And as we have now reached 
 Savoy, we are again in France, and Switzerland 
 lies behind us. 
 
 * It should be mentioned that Gruyeres gives the French name to what we 
 call after the German name, Swiss cheese. That we which had at luncheon 
 at Bulle was the most delicious ever tasted 
 
XV 
 
 BACK THEOUGH FRANCE 
 
 Paris, 
 Monday, August 26, 1907. 
 
 The road back! Yes — everything must come 
 to an end; even our adventures with the Green 
 Dragon. There seemed at one time to be no 
 valid reason why we should not keep on forever ; 
 motors have been making a run from Pekin to 
 Paris, why should not the Dragon take us from 
 Paris to Pekin? 
 
 Thus suggested thoughtless Pleasure ; but stern 
 Duty shook her head and gravely remarked: 
 " It's no use — you've had your share of fun — it's 
 time to go home and go to work." 
 
 So behold us one day with our guide high up 
 amid the rocks and snows of Savoj^, ten thousand 
 feet above the sea level; the Green Dragon repos- 
 ing at Chamounix, six tliousand feet below us; 
 witli an absolutely cloudless sky overhead, and 
 around us the peaks and glaciers at the back of 
 Mt. Blanc. As we sit eating our frugal lunch- 
 eon after a stiff climb of four steady hours, 
 from the Montainvert, and enjoying the same 
 glorious views that one of the party had seen 
 
 160 
 
BACK THROUGH FRANCE. 
 
 no less than twenty-nine j^ears ago, we say sor- 
 rowfully to one another : " This is onr last day — • 
 tomorrow we must start back." 
 
 And the next day we started back. We bade 
 a sorrowful farewell to Chamounix, most wonder- 
 ful of valleys, to Mt. Blanc, king of European 
 mountains, and to the Patisserie des Alpes — (no, 
 boys! that pretty girl who served tea won't be 
 there tw^enty-nine years from now!) — and the 
 Green Dragon turned his head toward home. 
 
 This time there was no delay in starting — the 
 Dragon evidently knows where his stall is, and is 
 in a hurry to get there. It is about five hundred 
 miles to Paris by way of Bourg, Bourges and 
 Chartres. Can we do it in three days to en- 
 able two of our party to catch their steamer? 
 " Perhaps we can if we don't stop to see too many 
 churches," remarks one irreverent voice. Well, 
 we can try, but there are a number of stops we 
 must make, and some churches we have come 
 abroad to see. 
 
 Stop first is Geneva where we are forced to 
 return for an errand or two, and where we lunch. 
 Then we drive on a few miles to the Swiss fron- 
 tier where we have the second stop — to get back 
 the Swiss customs duties which we paid at Delle. 
 Then onward again by the rocky defile of 
 L'Ecluse, where the Rhone has forced a pas- 
 
 161 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 8age through the Jura, to Bellegarde. Here is 
 8top the third — French customs; and the bag- 
 gage which has been forwarded there from Ge- 
 neva to be reshipped to Paris. Then onward, up 
 barren but picturesque valleys ; past towns, lakes 
 and ruined castles; suddenly out upon a wide- 
 spreading view of stern hills, rocky valleys and 
 picturesque villages — all lying far below us; and 
 down an impressive descent where the magnifi- 
 cent high-road — (oh, these wonderful French 
 roads again!) winds dow^n the face of the moun- 
 tain by a slow and even grade that never seems 
 to vary by an inch ; past Point de FAin with its 
 old castle of the Dukes of Savoy ; to the town of 
 Bourg — where we reach stop number four. 
 
 Here at Brou, a suburb of Bourg, is the church 
 celebrated in Matthew Arnold's poem, with its 
 three wonderful tombs, of Philibert II. of Savoy, 
 his wife and his mother. The church was saved 
 at the time of the Revolution by turning it into 
 a place for the storage of hay ; and the tombs, in 
 a very perfect state of preservation, are the most 
 beautiful in Europe. 
 
 It is a touching story — the charming young 
 bride, " from Vienna by the Danube,'' coming to 
 her handsome husband in the spring; in the au- 
 tumn the Duke brought in dead from a hunting 
 accident ; the sorrowing mother's recollection of 
 
 162 
 
BACK THROUGH FRANCE. 
 
 a former vow to build a church ; her death before 
 the work was well begun; the work continued 
 by the widowed wife and the erection of the 
 three tombs — tlie husband-son in the center of 
 the church with his hands turned toward his 
 mother, whose tomb is on the right, and his 
 face turned toward his wife on the left. All three 
 tombs, together with a large marble altar-piece, 
 are miracles of exquisite carving. There is not 
 its like elsewhere in the world. 
 
 We have made such good time that instead of 
 spending the night at Bourg we continue our 
 run and arrive at Macon, where we cross the 
 broad Somme by an old arched bridge and lodge 
 in a delightfully quaint old hotel with rooms that 
 open from galleries around a court yard. One of 
 our rooms has painted panels, and looks for all 
 the world like the old-fashioned, impossible the- 
 atrical parlor of the stage. When we go into or 
 out of the room we always feel as if we were 
 " entering center,'' or making our " exit left 
 upper entrance. '' 
 
 Macon is only a mile or two from the historic 
 ground where the Helvetii crossed the Somme in 
 their attempt to enter Gaul, and where Julius 
 Oaesar gave them a drubbing which sent them 
 scuttling back to Switzerland — as High school 
 students may perhaps remember. (All such are 
 
 163 
 
ADVENTURES OF A OBEEN DRAGON. 
 
 respectfully referred to Osesar's Gaelic War, 
 Book I. Ah, how well we remember that " awful 
 hard '' section, fourteenth was it not? — even after 
 the passage of these many years) . 
 
 On our first day^s run we made a great record ; 
 one hundred and fifty miles in spite of stops. 
 Could we equal it the second day? We made an 
 early start; and for the second time only in our 
 trip found ourselves in bad weather. We drove 
 through a mild shower of rain for some distance ; 
 but had come to good weather again before we 
 stopped to lunch at Moulins. As for the roads 
 we were on ; a winding, somewhat narrow road 
 of the " second class '^ the first part of the morn- 
 ing ; then we struck a Route Nationale and found 
 the best motor roads we had yet seen. Long, 
 straight stretches led for miles up hill and down, 
 through villages and forests, and over moors 
 where the lovely purple heather was blooming. 
 One stretch in the afternoon we found was seven 
 miles long; another we figured out to be four- 
 teen. It got to be really exciting as we reached 
 the top of each successive rise, to see whether we 
 were nearing the ultimate bend in the road. 
 Such roads would be wearisome in a carriage; 
 with the Dragon they were delightful. Otherwise 
 the scenery grew tamer, and as we neared 
 Bourges became quite flat and unattractive. 
 
 164 
 
BACK THROUGH FRANCE. 
 
 Bourges is an interesting town with two spe- 
 cial claims to one's attention — the House of 
 Jacques Coeur and the Cathedral. The first was 
 built by the treasurer of King Charles VII. — the 
 man who " financed/' as we should now say, the 
 war against the English ; and thus helped carry 
 out the work which Joan of Arc began. When 
 he became rich and had built this magnificent 
 house, his enemies got busy ; and with his usual 
 ingratitude the King disgraced him, his life being 
 saved only by the Pope's intercession. He died 
 in an expedition against the Turks. 
 
 The House of Jacques Coeur is the finest ex- 
 ample that remains of a Gothic city residence. 
 It is now turned into a Palais de Justice or Law 
 Courts; the great hall becoming the Court of 
 Appeal. That has been completely changed ; but 
 other rooms, the hall-ways, staircases and chapel, 
 the court-yard and exterior, remain in their origi- 
 nal condition and are most interesting. 
 
 The Cathedral, one of the finest in France, is 
 very curious in plan, as it has no transepts. The 
 glorious stained glass is impossible to describe — 
 except by saying that it is as fine as that in Reims 
 and there is considerably more of it — most of the 
 windows about the choir, both above and below, 
 being perfect. 
 
 165 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 If the roads into Bourges were fine, what shall 
 I say of our next day's run from Bourges to Char- 
 tres, and thence to Paris, nearly two hundred 
 miles? Here is the French road at its very 
 best. We fairly fly from town to town, from 
 city to city. The straight stretches are even 
 longer than the day before; on one, we never 
 alter a lever nor turn a wheel for twenty-flve 
 miles ! ! Eushing along at a steady, uniform 
 pace, as straight as the flight of an arrow, — mile 
 after mile, — it is one of the most exciting rung 
 of the summer — and, ah me ! it is the last day ! 
 We have to go home leaving so much of France 
 unexplored ! 
 
 We lunched at Orleans, where once more we 
 were on the track of Joan of Arc. We crossed 
 the bridge which was the central point of the 
 great seige, and which she finally captured from 
 the English. We also saw the house where she 
 lodged during her stay in the city, — ever since 
 cherished by the inhabitants of Orleans as a 
 sacred spot. 
 
 We have now seen a number of the places 
 specially connected with the Maid — Domremy, 
 where she was born ; Neuf chateau, where she and 
 her family fled from an English inroad; Vau- 
 couleurs, where she received help from Baudri- 
 
 166 
 
BACK THROUGH FRANCE. 
 
 court, and whence she started to the King at 
 Chinon; Orleans, where she won her first great 
 success; St. Pierre le Moutier, which she also 
 saved; Reims, Avhere she took her King to be 
 crowned; Compiegne, where she was taken pris- 
 oner; and Eouen, where she was burned. Like 
 the lady who breathed a sigh when she landed on 
 the dock in New York and remarked, '' Thank 
 heaven, I've got Europe off my mind ! '' so we feel 
 that we have done our duty this summer by Joan 
 of Arc. 
 
 From Orleans to Chartres the country gets flat- 
 ter and flatter. This is the great plain of La 
 Bauce, one of the granaries of France. The wheat 
 is all cut now and only the golden stubble re- 
 mains; and curious it is to look from the road 
 over mile after mile of fields without a fence, 
 tree, or landmark of any kind. But presently, 
 far off in the distance, we can distinguish two 
 tall spires — it is the Cathedral of Chartres, 
 eleven miles away. But eleven miles is a trifle 
 over such roads; and soon w^e are drawn up in 
 front of the glorious old church and find— -of 
 course! I thought so — one of the spires is being 
 restored. 
 
 Of all the cathedrals I know^ this is the one one 
 loves the best. In the first place it has suffered 
 less from restoration than most; then it is built 
 
 167 
 
ADVENTURES OP A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 in the style of Gothic architecture — not the most 
 perfect, perhaps, but surely the most noble; its 
 spires are of different periods, one of very early 
 Gothic, the other the latest — but both supremely 
 beautiful; it has two porches at the north and 
 south transepts which are among the finest things 
 in all pointed architecture; it has a great stone 
 screen about the choir, carved with scenes from 
 the life of the Madonna, that is rivalled only by 
 the one at Amiens; but above all it has its su- 
 perb thirteenth century glass — practically com- 
 plete. Bathed in the soft, subdued light from 
 these glorious windows, the noble proportions of 
 the great church have a chance to produce the 
 full effect that its builders intended. No one can 
 fully understand the Gothic cathedrals without 
 coming to Chartres. 
 
 One could cover reams of paper rhapsodizing 
 about this magnificent church and its wonderful 
 windows, but what is the use? Nobody can ever 
 feel the thrill of such things by reading about 
 them. Moreover, our own American poet, 
 Lowell, has spoken of Chartres once for all in 
 " The Cathedral.'^ 
 
 So let us away to Paris. Past the Chateau of 
 Maintenon, which gave its title to the woman who 
 dominated the last years of Louis XIV.; past 
 Rambouillet, where Francis I. used to hunt ; past 
 
 168 
 
BACK THROUGH FRANCE. 
 
 Versailles, where stands the big palace that help- 
 ed to bring on the Revolution; past St. Cloud, 
 where was once another palace, demolished by 
 Prussian guns in 1871 ; and so once more across 
 the river to the Wood of Boulogne and down the 
 Avenue of the Elysian Fields to the Place of Con- 
 cord, to Rivoli street, to Vendome Place, to 
 Daunou street and the Hotel of the Empirci. 
 Again we are in Paris. 
 
 We have made our five hundred miles in three 
 days, with ease and comfort over these wonder- 
 ful roads; but as we take our last dinner to- 
 gether and drink the health of the Green Dragon 
 we vainly wish that we had it all to do over again. 
 
XVI 
 
 THE DEAGON^S LAST RUN 
 
 S. S. Teutonic, 
 
 Thursday, September 5, 1907. 
 
 The rest is soon told. After a few days in 
 Paris, our party, now sadly reduced in numbers, 
 is once more ready to start. Passage taken ten 
 days earlier than planned and last errandfs 
 hastily done, it only remains to drive the Dragon 
 back to Southampton and our adventures are 
 over. Alas, the day ! 
 
 Once again we start late from Paris. Avoiding 
 Pontoise and the scene of our cross country run, 
 but losing our road twice and stopping to repair 
 a puncture — our sixth and last — once again we 
 reach Beauvais after nightfall. 
 
 Early the next morning (we think four o'clock 
 decidedly early), we are off for Boulogne. The 
 Green Dragon evidently does not like to get up 
 early — he makes queer noises — he limps, he 
 coughs, he grunts ; is it possible that now, at the 
 very last moment, he is going to misbehave, and 
 make us lose the boat. In the dim, early dawn 
 a friendly gendarme comes toward us — not to 
 arrest us for making unseemly noises, as we 
 feared at first, but to show official sympathy with 
 
 170 
 
THE DRAGON^S LAST RUN. 
 
 our struggles to get the Dragon moving properly. 
 Slowed down, he makes a fair start; move up 
 the lever and he apparently throws a fit. We are 
 due at Boulogne at ten for the twelve o'clock 
 boat to Folkstone; and the Shover begins to get 
 dangerously near the sw earing point, as the causq 
 of the trouble fails to reveal itself. After an 
 anxious delay the difficulty is suddenly and satis- 
 factorily solved. It is discovered that some 
 thoughtful person has partially closed a stop- 
 cock, thereby shutting off the supply of gasoline 
 for the Dragon's consumption. Thus we grow 
 wiser every day; we have learned our second 
 great lesson — not only must the Dragon have 
 proper nourishment, but it must be delivered at 
 the proper place where he can get it. Burdened 
 with such an amount of knowledge we begin to 
 feel almost like experts ! 
 
 But no time is to be lost. Boulogne at ten! 
 We are off and out of Beauvais one hour late, 
 and are soon rushing northwards at the rate of — 
 well! there is no speed limit in France. A moist 
 fog blinds our glasses and dampens our clothing 
 and our spirits; but on the other hand, there is 
 nothing to impede our progress — no cart or cattle 
 on the roads; no people stirring about the towns 
 and villages so early; and better still, no dogs, 
 no hens and no sheep. The fog gradually cleans 
 as we dash ahead — up hill, down hill and around 
 
 171 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 the liills — through villages and across rivers — 
 always over the firm, smooth, white roads. Thus 
 we make our last run in France. 
 
 We reach Boulogne an hour ahead of our 
 schedule, having even taken time to stop on our 
 way for a glimpse of the great church of St. Wul- 
 fram at Abbeville. In due time the French cus- 
 toms duties have been paid back, the Green 
 Dragon has been swung bodily by a gigantic 
 crane aboard the boat, and we are crossing the 
 channel on a pleasant, sunshiny day, with (thank 
 Heaven) smooth water. 
 
 Over night the Dragon rests at Folkstone ; and 
 the next day upon the arrival of our train from 
 London, where we have been doing some of our 
 final round of errands, we start for Rye, where it 
 has been decided to spend the night. But we find 
 the Rye hotel " full up,'' as the English say, and 
 so we run on to Hastings, which we find a typical 
 English seaside resort, with swarms of people 
 listening to the band on the esplanade, and a long 
 iron pier running out to sea. 
 
 Of course we want to see the battlefield of 
 Hastings, where was fought that fierce conflict 
 which altered more history than almost any other 
 ever waged ; so the next morning we turn inland 
 
 172 
 
THE DRAGON^S LAST RUN. 
 
 and mount the hill back of Hastings to begin our 
 last day's run. It always seems as though battles 
 have usually been named from places where they 
 were not fought. At any rate we find that the 
 Battle of Hastings did not occur at Hastings at 
 all, but at a place several miles inland called in 
 Saxon, Senlac — the field of blood. It is now 
 called Battle; and here we see the outside at 
 least of the famous Abbey founded by the con- 
 querer, and situated on the very hill where Har- 
 old's standard floated on that fateful day m 
 1066. As we drive slowly away we find ourselves 
 on the opposite hill, on the identical spot where 
 William the Norman stood, and whence he ad- 
 vanced to victory and the English crown. 
 
 Then by devious and charming roads — Eng- 
 land is as lovely as ever — we run on to Brighton, 
 with its hideous Pavilion designed by George IV ; 
 to Arundel, with its wonderful old castle; to 
 Chichester, with its Cathedral; and so on to 
 Southampton. The Green Dragon draws up in 
 front of the Southwestern Hotel ; yonder by the 
 White Star dock lies the Teutonic at anchor; 
 our adventures are over ! 
 
A FEW WOEDS BY WAY OF FINALE 
 
 ITEM. 
 
 Six tire punctures; not so bad in three thou- 
 sand miles — over eight weeks of travel ! 
 
 CASUALTIES. 
 
 (1.) One dog. English. Fat old fox-terrier. 
 Persisted, despite loud warnings, in remaining in 
 center of road, — apparently under the impression 
 that he was as ponderous as a cow, and that his 
 posterior formed an inpenetrable barrier to the 
 Dragon's advance. Emerged from the rear with 
 self-conceit and cut of his coat considerably 
 ruffled, but otherwise unharmed. 
 
 (2.) One dog. English. Mongrel or ^^ Yal- 
 ler '^ dog. N. G. The scribe refuseth to state 
 who was steering when the Dragon ran over — 
 no! When the dog stupidly insisted upon get- 
 ting under and staying under him. The reward 
 donated by the young Keeper of the Purse to the 
 owner was so large that an enormous increase in 
 that locality of dogs trained for motorcide may 
 be anticipated. 
 
 (3.) One hen. Swiss. The hens in Switzer- 
 land have not yet learned to run fast; those of 
 
 174 
 
FINALE. 
 
 the next generation (if any survive) will prob- 
 ably be much more alert. 
 
 (4.) One hen. French. The hens of France 
 are much better athletes than those of Switzer- 
 land. They have more practice. This hen lived 
 on a side road where hens are not much used to 
 exercise on a large scale; hence her hensiting 
 hend. 
 
 A SERIOUS WORD. 
 
 Joking aside: the danger to animals is one 
 great and serious draw^back to the pleasures of 
 motoring. It is very well to say that hens and 
 dogs should be kept at home; they have had the 
 run of the highways from time immemorial and 
 neither people nor hens can change their habits 
 all at once, at the bidding and for the pleasure of 
 a few motorists. If all motorists were careful 
 and reasonable the problem would be simple ; so 
 would it be if all other people were careful and 
 reasonable. 
 
 But worse than the danger to animals — for 
 this can be minimized with care in driving, is 
 the discomfort of the human beings. In the ex- 
 hilaration of the rapid flight you forget the hide- 
 ous trail of dust you are leaving behind you, 
 until you see the shrinking aside of the people 
 
 175 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 you meet — the genuine distress on the faces of 
 daintily dressed women, — the disgust, if not hat- 
 red, in the eyes of men — who in another instant 
 will be blinded and soiled and dishevelled by the 
 rush of dirt which follows close behind you. 
 Little boys call naughty words after you; little 
 girls make faces; until sometimes the pleasure 
 of the drive is spoiled if you are at all sensitive 
 to the good opinion of your fellowmen — and who 
 is not? On the other hand, when the children 
 wave their hands to you, and the peasant in his 
 blue blouse calls out a merry good morning, and 
 the women smile from the doorways — and in 
 places these things still happen, I am glad to 
 say — ^you feel correspondingly happy. It is with 
 motoring as with most other things, the innocent 
 suffer for the guilty; the selfish and unreason- 
 able hogs, ( I use the word advisedly ) , make it 
 hard for those who wish to be reasonable and 
 careful of the rights of others. Where motors are 
 frequent, there you are hated; where they are 
 rare, there you are welcomed. It is not an agree- 
 able thought. 
 
 At the best it is a selfish pleasure— this motor- 
 ing. Most pleasures are; but this seems to be- 
 stow on other people the maximum of discomfort. 
 There is no other sport that I can think of that 
 is so selfish. Railroads bring dirt and noise and 
 discomfort; but they are great public utilities. 
 
 176 
 
FINALE. 
 
 Tlie automobile is for the exclusive pleasure of 
 those seated within; but it brings with it dirt, 
 noise and discomfort just the same. 
 
 But if as a sport it is selfish, it is without ques- 
 tion the most delightful mode of travel. With 
 all the charms of the old stage-coach, it is far 
 more comfortable ; with all the comforts of a pri- 
 vate carriage, it is far more convenient; with aill 
 the conveniences of the railway it is far more 
 flexible. The motor has all the advantages of 
 railway, stage-coach and carriage combined. 
 
 In a motor there is no hurry in starting, no 
 confusion on arrival. You can leave when you 
 get ready and travel each day as long as you 
 like. You can rush madly across the country, 
 or you can stop to examine every little village, 
 visit every church and climb to every old castle, 
 You can pluck wild flowers along the banks and 
 hedges ; stop to admire the lovely view, or photo- 
 graph each charming bit of scenery. If you are 
 hungry you can eat, if tired of running you can 
 stop and rest, or if tired of resting you can hurry 
 on. You enter every place by the front gates, 
 instead of through the back yards. If you don't 
 like the looks of the town in which you have 
 planned to spend the night, or can't get rooms at 
 the hotel, you can fly on to the next place. There 
 is no scramble for seats ; no crowds, no pushing, 
 no heat, no cinders. You can run fast over un- 
 
 177 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 interesting country and slow up when there is 
 much to see. In short, you enjoy that most de- 
 lightful of sensations — freedom of action. 
 
 When motoring has ceased to be a " fad '' with 
 the idle rich who have taken it up merely as a 
 new form of excitement; when Ave have learned 
 enough self-restraint to be content to go slowly 
 and leisurely so as reallj^ to see the country; 
 when roads are built so hard that the surface 
 can- 1 be torn up and thrown in the faces of pas- 
 sers by; when they have invented a horn that is 
 not a direct incentive to profanity, and yet can 
 be heard loud enough to warn; when dogs and 
 hens are trained to run awaj^ from the motor in- 
 stead of under it ; then motoring will be simply 
 ideal. At present it's not ideal, but it is as near 
 it as most things human attain. 
 
 FAREWELL. 
 
 Gentle Readers of The Auburn Citizen! 
 Many of you have followed patiently this un- 
 worthy record of a most interesting trip. Its 
 writer is but too well aware of how hopelessly in- 
 adequate it is. It has been dull Avhen it sliould 
 have amused you ; it has been trite when it should 
 have had the charm of novelty ; it has been long 
 where it should have been short, and short where 
 
 m 178 
 
FINALE. 
 
 it should have been long. Yet the intention at 
 least has been sincere. The party in the Green 
 Dragon enjoyed a most interesting experience; 
 and some of that enjoyment we would fain have 
 shared with you. To take you all with us was 
 impossible — to show you the glorious green of the 
 English trees — to bow in reverence before the 
 mighty dead in Westminster Abbey — to live 
 again througii past ages in the St. Albans' pa- 
 geant — to fly before the coming of night over 
 Salisbury plain — to visit church or castle in the 
 " pleasant land of France '' — to worship once 
 more at the shrine of Venus in the Louvre at 
 Paris — to feel tlie spell of the holy Maid at Dom- 
 remy — to climb to the dizzy heights of eternal 
 snow at Murren or Chamounix — to rush at break- 
 neck speed over those long stretches of wonderful 
 white French roads — to watch the sunlight turn 
 to sparkling jewels through the painted windows 
 of Bourges or Chartres — Ave could not give you 
 these; but, if w^e have made any of you want to 
 know a little more about these places, if you are 
 led to seek the books of those Avho can really give 
 you pleasure by Avhat thej^ have written, if we 
 have prompted you to any new interest in this 
 wonderful world and its wonderful historv of the 
 past and wonderful sights of the present, then 
 these papers have more than served their purpose. 
 They have been scribbled at all sorts of odd mo- 
 
 179 
 
ADVENTURES OF A GREEN DRAGON. 
 
 ments, and in all sorts of odd places — seated by 
 the roadside while tires were mended, in crowded 
 hotels, in silent places of the mountains, in the 
 stuffy cabin of a steamer. But wherever they 
 were written they have been surrounded by pleas- 
 ant thoughts of the kind voices and familiar 
 faces of the friends before whose eyes the printed 
 page might come. And to those friends I give a 
 parting wish : '' May you each some day travel 
 through Europe with a pleasant party in a Green 
 Dragon of your own.'' 
 
 T. M. O. 
 
W 9 5 
 

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