Poppa said as we steamed out of Paris that night that the Presidency itself would not induce him to reside there, and I think he meant it.

I don't know whether the omnibus _numeros_ and the _correspondances_ where you change, or the men sitting staring on the side walks drinking things for hours at a time, or getting no vegetables to speak of with his joint, annoyed him most, but he was very decided in his views.

Momma and I were not quite so certain; we had a guilty sense of ingratitude when we thought of the creations in the van; but the cobblestones biassed momma a good deal, who hoped she should get some sleep in Italy.

I had breakfasted that morning in the most amusing way with Dicky Dod at a _cafe_ in the Champs Elysees--poppa and momma had an engagement with Mr.
and Mrs.Malt and couldn't come--and in the leniency of the recollection I said something favourable about the Arc de Triomphe at sunset; but I gathered from the Senator's remarks that, while the sunset was fine enough, he didn't see the propriety in using it that way as a background for Napoleon Bonaparte, so to speak.
"Result is," said the Senator, "the intelligent foreigner's got pretty nearly to go out of the town to see a sunset without having to think about Aboukir and Alexandria.

But that's Paris all over.