But there is yet another reason why the Dover and Calais route is the best of all ways to the Continent, and that is on account of the excellent déjeuner—still, as I believe, unequalled at any port or at any station in Europe—served to the many poor hungry and thirsty travellers quickly, hotly, and as comfortably as the confounded bustling circumstances of travel will permit. Why the railway company which takes us to Paris cannot give us three quarters of an hour for our very necessary toilette (after the sea passage) and our food, and then do the journey in double quick time, or in the same time as now for the matter of that (for what does it matter to the accomplished traveller who "does know where he are" and where he will be, and has pre-ordered everything wisely and well?), and so get up to Paris in time for a little late supper and an early bed?
For those who value their digestions, and who love good food and drink, even when they have but a short time for refreshment, there is but one route to Paris from London, and that is viâ Calais, i.e. viâ the buffet. Only, cher messieurs les directeurs de la ligne du Nord, cannot you possibly manage to extend our luncheon-time at Calais to just three quarters of an hour, instead of giving us only a beggarly twenty-five minutes at best, and do the thing well while you are about it? As to the Boulogne route, well, one goes to Boulogne to stay, and so the buffet, en passant, is of small importance.
May this reach the eyes and touch the hearts of all in authority, for it is a cri du cour from
An Inconstant Traveller.
TO ATALANTA.
Ah, Atalanta! timely wise,
When the disdain within your eyes
That wondrous vision daunted,
The golden apples, they whose spell