They rode directly to the principal hotel, a large, roomy, comfortable-looking place, and immediately after supper proceeded to their room for the night.
Before retiring, Johnny looked out from between the crimson window curtains, to see what he could of the city; but little was visible. Opposite the window was a little two-story house, with queer stagings about the chimneys. He called Eric to look at them, saying he guessed the chimneys were being rebuilt.
“No, Johnny,” said Eric. “You will find those stagings upon almost every house here. They are erected by the house-owners for the especial accommodation of storks that build in the chimneys and are the street scavengers of Strasbourg.”
“Are they?” said Johnny, sleepily; “well, let’s go to bed.” They were both very tired and sleepy boys, and prepared for a good night’s rest.
“I think I shall sleep well,” Johnny remarked.
“And I’m sure I shall,” said Eric. “I’ve travelled nearly six hundred miles since night before last.”
But they were destined to disappointment, for from the large, open fireplace in the room there issued, all night long, a continuous wailing, moaning, rustling sound, caused by the wind; added to which were the dismal groanings of the old storks and piping of the young ones.
It seemed to Eric that he had but just fallen asleep, when Johnny was shaking him and hallooing in his ear.
“Eric! Eric! it’s a splendid morning! Get up quick. I want to go out and see the sights. Hurry up!”