[54]
CHAP. XVII.
Crack, crack—crack, crack—crack, crack—so this is Paris! quoth I (continuing in the same mood)—and this is Paris!—humph!—Paris! cried I, repeating the name the third time———
The first, the finest, the most brilliant———
—The streets however are nasty;
But it looks, I suppose, better than it smells—crack, crack—crack, crack—What a fuss thou makest!—as is it concern'd the good people to be inform'd, That a man with pale face,and
