He wandered into the wood and said good morning to two men who, as they told him, were "falling a tree." He gathered flowers, white violets, the star flower, offered tobacco for their pipes, which they accepted, and asked them what flower was this. "We call them Quaker ladies." He went away wondering what poet had so named them. In the town he bought two rolls and ate them as he walked, like the great Benjamin. About nine o'clock, returning to the hotel, he threw the flowers in his mother's lap as he kissed her. He saw to her breakfast, chatted hopefully, and when, about noon, she insisted on going with him to seek for lodgings, he was pleased at her revived strength. The landlord regretted that they must leave, and gave addresses near by. Unluckily, none suited their wants or their sense of need for rigid economy; and, moreover, the vicomtesse was more difficult to please than the young man thought quite reasonable. They were pausing, perplexed, near the southwest corner of Chestnut and Fifth streets when, having passed two gentlemen standing at the door of a brick building known as the Philosophical Society, De Courval said, "I will go back and ask where to apply for information." He had been struck with the unusual height of one of the speakers, and with the animation of his face as he spoke, and had caught as he went by a phrase or two; for the stouter man spoke in a loud, strident voice, as if at a town meeting. "I hope, Citizen, you liked the last 'Gazette.' It is time to give men their true labels. Adams is a monarchist and Hamilton is an aristocrat."
The taller man, a long, lean figure, returned in a more refined voice: "Yes, yes; it is, I fear, only too true. I hope, Citizen, to live to see the end of the titles they love, even Mr.; for who is the master of a freeman?"
"How droll is that, maman!" said De Courval, half catching this singular interchange of sentiment.
"Why, René? What is droll?"
"Oh, nothing." He turned back, and addressing the taller man said: "Pardon me, sir, but we are strangers in search of some reasonable lodging-house. May I ask where we could go to find some one to direct us?"
The gentleman appealed to took off his hat, bowing to the woman, and then, answering the son, said, "My friend, Citizen Freneau, may know." The citizen had small interest in the matter. The taller man, suddenly struck by the woman's grave and moveless face and the patient dignity of her bearing, began to take an interest in this stranded couple, considering them with his clear hazel eyes. As he stood uncovered, he said: "Tell them, Freneau! Your paper must have notices—advertisements. Where shall they inquire?"
Freneau did not know, but quick to note his companion's interest, said presently: "Oh, yes, they might learn at the library. They keep there a list of lodging-houses."
"That will do," said the lean man. Madame, understanding that they were to be helped by this somber-looking gentleman, said, "Je vous remercie, messieurs."
"My mother thanks you, sir."
Then there was of a sudden cordiality. Most of the few French known to Freneau were Republicans and shared his extreme opinions. The greater emigration from the islands and of the beggared nobles was not as yet what it was to become.