of times, but it never seemed before as if it were a real thing. Isn't
it beautiful! I think I could spend a whole day looking at it."

Patty's love of the beautiful was intuitive and all embracing. She knew
little of architecture or sculpture technically, but the sublime majesty
and imposing grandeur of the noble arch impressed her, as it does all
true beauty lovers.

"The continuation of the Champs Elysees beyond the arch," went on Mr.
Farrington, "changes its name and becomes the Avenue de la Grand Armee.
But we will not continue along that way at present, but take the next
avenue to the left, which is the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne."

"Why, I thought that was a forest," said Patty; "is it a street?"

"It's an avenue," replied Mr. Farrington, "and it leads to the forest,
or rather park, which is called the Bois de Boulogne. We can take only a
short drive into the park, but you may see a few of the beautiful
chateaus, which are the homes of the wealthy or aristocratic French
people. You will not meet many equipages at this hour in the morning,
but late in the afternoon there is a continuous stream of fine turnouts
of all sorts. There are many, many places of interest in the Bois, but
as we have all winter in which to visit them, we will content ourselves
to-day with a brief visit."

"It begins to look," said Patty, "as if even a whole winter would be all
too short to see the beauties and glories of this wonderful Paris."

"Indeed, it would be too short to see everything of interest, but I can
assure you, my child, that with an automobile and some idea of