I had scarcely left Zurich when I was obliged to stop at Baden to have
the carriage M. Ote had got me mended. I might have started again at
eleven, but on hearing that a young Polish lady on her way to Our Lady of
Einseidel was to dine at the common table, I decided to wait; but I had
my trouble for nothing, as she turned out to be quite unworthy of the
delay.

After dinner, while my horses were being put in, the host's daughter, a
pretty girl enough, came into the room and made me waltz with her; it
chanced to be a Sunday. All at once her father came in, and the girl
fled.

"Sir," said the rascal, "you are condemned to pay a fine of one louis."

"Why?"

"For having danced on a holy day."

"Get out; I won't pay."

"You will pay, though," said he, shewing me a great parchment covered
with writing I did not understand.

"I will appeal."

"To whom, sir?"

"To the judge of the place."