sailors' dinner, and we went into one of their dining rooms, where
there were about three hundred seated at an excellent meal, plain,
but wholesome and plentiful. A very pleasant sight it was; they were
chatting, telling good old stories, and laughing merrily, and
evidently enjoying themselves highly. There were, at that time, more
than seven hundred of these veterans in the building. Those who
chose carried their dinners to their rooms.

The place for the sailors' sleeping rooms was a long hall, with
small rooms on one side and large windows on the other. The rooms
were just large enough for a bed, a bureau, a little table, and, I
think, two chairs. There were shelves around the room, except on the
side that looked into the Hall, where was the door and a window. On
these shelves were ranged little keepsakes, books and various
articles of taste, often beautiful shells; there were hanging up
around the rooms profiles of friends, perhaps the dearest that this
life can give us. I could not help thinking that many a touching
story might be told by those silent but eloquent memorials. We were
much amused with looking at a card put in one of the windows of
these little comfortable state rooms, on which was written these
words: "Anti-poke-your-nose-into-other-folks'-business Society. 5000
Pounds reward annually to any one who will really mind his own
business; with the prospect of an increase of 100 Pounds, if he
shall abstain from poking his nose into other folks' business." We
returned to London in a steamer.

Now you must suppose you are walking with me in Paris, on a bright
Sunday morning in spring. We will go first to the Place Vendome. It
is an oblong square with the corners cut off. The buildings are all
of the same beautiful cream-colored stone, and of the same style of