of persons had inspected them where they lay in a coal-shed. We

were becoming lions in Landrecies, who had been only pedlars the
night before in Pont.

And now, when we left the CAFE, we were pursued and overtaken at
the hotel door by no less a person than the JUGE DE PAIX: a

functionary, as far as I can make out, of the character of a Scots
Sheriff-Substitute. He gave us his card and invited us to sup with

him on the spot, very neatly, very gracefully, as Frenchmen can do
these things. It was for the credit of Landrecies, said he; and

although we knew very well how little credit we could do the place,
we must have been churlish fellows to refuse an invitation so

politely introduced.
The house of the Judge was close by; it was a well-appointed

bachelor's establishment, with a curious collection of old brass
warming-pans upon the walls. Some of these were most elaborately

carved. It seemed a picturesque idea for a collector. You could
not help thinking how many night-caps had wagged over these

warming-pans in past generations; what jests may have been made,
and kisses taken, while they were in service; and how often they

had been uselessly paraded in the bed of death. If they could only
speak, at what absurd, indecorous, and tragical scenes had they not

been present!
The wine was excellent. When we made the Judge our compliments

upon a bottle, 'I do not give it you as my worst,' said he. I
wonder when Englishmen will learn these hospitable graces. They

are worth learning; they set off life, and make ordinary moments
ornamental.

There were two other Landrecienses present. One was the collector
of something or other, I forget what; the other, we were told, was

the principal notary of the place. So it happened that we all five
more or less followed the law. At this rate, the talk was pretty

certain to become technical. The CIGARETTE expounded the Poor Laws
very magisterially. And a little later I found myself laying down

the Scots Law of Illegitimacy, of which I am glad to say I know
nothing. The collector and the notary, who were both married men,

accused the Judge, who was a bachelor, of having started the
subject. He deprecated the charge, with a conscious, pleased air,

just like all the men I have ever seen, be they French or English.
How strange that we should all, in our unguarded moments, rather

like to be thought a bit of a rogue with the women!
As the evening went on, the wine grew more to my taste; the spirits

proved better than the wine; the company was genial. This was the
highest water mark of popular favour on the whole cruise. After

all, being in a Judge's house, was there not something semi-
official in the tribute? And so, remembering what a great country

France is, we did full justice to our entertainment. Landrecies
had been a long while asleep before we returned to the hotel; and

the sentries on the ramparts were already looking for daybreak.
SAMBRE AND OISE CANAL

CANAL BOATS
NEXT day we made a late start in the rain. The Judge politely

escorted us to the end of the lock under an umbrella. We had now
brought ourselves to a pitch of humility in the matter of weather,

not often attained except in the Scottish Highlands. A rag of blue
sky or a glimpse of sunshine set our hearts singing; and when the

rain was not heavy, we counted the day almost fair.
Long lines of barges lay one after another along the canal; many of

them looking mightyspruce and shipshape in their jerkin of
Archangel tar picked out with white and green. Some carried gay

iron railings, and quite a parterre of flower-pots. Children
played on the decks, as heedless of the rain as if they had been

brought up on Loch Carron side; men fished over the gunwale, some
of them under umbrellas; women did their washing; and every barge

boasted its mongrel cur by way of watch-dog. Each one barked
furiously at the canoes, runningalongside until he had got to the

end of his own ship, and so passing on the word to the dog aboard
the next. We must have seen something like a hundred of these

embarkations in the course of that day's paddle, ranged one after
another like the houses in a street; and from not one of them were

we disappointed of this accompaniment. It was like visiting a
menagerie, the CIGARETTE remarked.

These little cities by the canal side had a very odd effect upon
the mind. They seemed, with their flower-pots and smoking

chimneys, their washings and dinners, a rooted piece of nature in
the scene; and yet if only the canal below were to open, one junk

after another would hoist sail or harness horses and swim away into
all parts of France; and the impromptu hamlet would separate, house

by house, to the four winds. The children who played together to-
day by the Sambre and Oise Canal, each at his own father's

threshold, when and where might they next meet?
For some time past the subject of barges had occupied a great deal

of our talk, and we had projected an old age on the canals of
Europe. It was to be the most leisurely of progresses, now on a

swift river at the tail of a steam-boat, now waiting horses for
days together on some inconsiderable junction. We should be seen

pottering on deck in all the dignity of years, our white beards
falling into our laps. We were ever to be busied among paint-pots;

so that there should be no white fresher, and no green more emerald
than ours, in all the navy of the canals. There should be books in

the cabin, and tobacco-jars, and some old Burgundy as red as a
November sunset and as odorous as a violet in April. There should

be a flageolet, whence the CIGARETTE, with cunning touch, should
draw melting music under the stars; or perhaps, laying that aside,

upraise his voice - somewhat thinner than of yore, and with here
and there a quaver, or call it a natural grace-note - in rich and

solemn psalmody.
All this, simmering in my mind, set me wishing to go aboard one of

these ideal houses of lounging. I had plenty to choose from, as I
coasted one after another, and the dogs bayed at me for a vagrant.

At last I saw a nice old man and his wife looking at me with some
interest, so I gave them good-day and pulled up alongside. I began

with a remark upon their dog, which had somewhat the look of a
pointer; thence I slid into a compliment on Madame's flowers, and

thence into a word in praise of their way of life.
If you ventured on such an experiment in England you would get a

slap in the face at once. The life would be shown to be a vile
one, not without a side shot at your better fortune. Now, what I

like so much in France is the clear unflinching recognition by
everybody of his own luck. They all know on which side their bread

is buttered, and take a pleasure in showing it to others, which is
surely the better part of religion. And they scorn to make a poor

mouth over their poverty, which I take to be the better part of
manliness. I have heard a woman in quite a better position at

home, with a good bit of money in hand, refer to her own child with
a horrid whine as 'a poor man's child.' I would not say such a

thing to the Duke of Westminster. And the French are full of this
spirit of independence. Perhaps it is the result of republican

institutions, as they call them. Much more likely it is because
there are so few people really poor, that the whiners are not

enough to keep each other in countenance.
The people on the barge were delighted to hear that I admired their

state. They understood perfectly well, they told me, how Monsieur
envied them. Without doubt Monsieur was rich; and in that case he

might make a canal boat as pretty as a villa - JOLI COMME UN
CHATEAU. And with that they invited me on board their own water

villa. They apologised for their cabin; they had not been rich
enough to make it as it ought to be.