THEN AND NOW
Before the Holidays (an Anticipation)
Really nothing so pleasant as packing. Such fun to see how many things you can get into a portmanteau. Won't take any books as the "Continong" will be enough for amusement.
Capital carriages to Dover. Everything first-rate. Civil guards. Time-table not a dead letter. Splendid boats, smooth sea, and a first-rate buffet at Calais.
Dear Paris! Just the place for the inside of a week. Boulevards full of novelties. Theatres in full swing. Evenings outside the cafés perfect happiness. Splendid!
En route. Swiss scenery, as ever, lovely. Mountains glorious, passes, lakes. Delightful. Nothing can compare with a jaunt through the land of Tell.
Italy—dear old Italy. Oh, the blue sky and the tables d'hôte! What more glorious than the ruins of Rome? What more precious than the pictures of Florence? What more restful than the gondolas of Venice?
And the people even! The French the pink of politeness. The Swiss homely and kindly. The Italians inheriting the nobility of the Cæsars.
And all this to take the place of hard work. Well, it is to come. Bless everybody!
After the Holidays (a Retrospect)
What can be worse than packing? And after all the trouble of shoving things in anywhere, you find you have left half your belongings behind! And of course the books you half read during your weary travels are stopped at the Custom House.
Beastly journey from Paris to Calais, and as for the crossing afterwards—well, as long as I live I shall never forget it!
Dear Paris! Emphatically "dear," with the accent on the expense. Glad to be out of it. Boulevards deserted. Theatres playing "relâche." Cafés deathtraps in the service of the influenza.
En route! Who cares for Switzerland—always the same! Eternal mountains—yet coming up promising year after year! Sloppy passes, misty views. Beastly monotonous. The Cantons played out.
Italy! Who says Italy? Blue sky not equal to Wandsworth. Rome unhealthy. Art treasures at Florence not equal to collection in South Kensington. Mosquitoes at Venice.
And the people! Cheeky French, swindling Swiss, and dirty Italians!
And yet this is all to be supplemented by the same hard work. In the collar again. Oh! hang everybody!
