Madame Pratolungo makes a Voyage on Land A WELL-FED boy, with yellow Saxon hair; a little shabby green chaise; and a rough brown pony--these objects confronted me at the Lewes Station.

I said to the boy, "Are you Reverend Finch's servant ?" And the boy answered, "I be he." We drove through the town--a hilly town of desolate clean houses.

No living creatures visible behind the jealously-shut windows.

No living creatures entering or departing through the sad-colored closed doors.

No theater; no place of amusement except an empty town-hall, with a sad policeman meditating on its spruce white steps.