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drained and badly cultivated, with many peat bogs and dwarf willows bordering the watercourses. There were many villages built of light-coloured stone, but apparently not one brisk, thriving town. The whole way wooden fences instead of beautiful live hedges, women digging trenches and working in the peat bogs, and the railroad left in the rough, unfinished style of America, without the excuse of an immense young country. At the Custom-house in Paris, where they search the trunks for butter and cheese, I parted from my travelling companions and launched boldly into the sea of Paris. It looked very odd as I drove along; the streets so narrow, with such odd, old-fashioned houses, all built of this light-coloured stone, which has no sort of expression. They charged extravagantly at the hotel where I passed the night, so I determined at once to procure lodgings, and set off early next morning to hunt up Mr. Doherty, who I knew through Dr. Wilkinson would tell me the right quarter for medical doings.

I started off with a map in my hand and hope in my heart, and reached Mr. Doherty's house very early, I suppose, for Parisian hours, for the gentleman was in bed when my letters were handed in; and soon after a short sleepy-looking man made his appearance, with a horrid coarse beard, a blue and red woollen dressing-gown, and green baize trousers hanging about his ankles. I had some difficulty in making him comprehend that I was not Anna. At last, however, with the help of letters and my explanations, all became clear. I found him very pleasant; he breakfasted, dressed, &c., while I talked to his brother Thomas, who is a beautiful artist. Mr. D. went with me to some places he knew of. At last we found a little room with bedroom attached in a central situation and at a moderate rent. The hostess was a very pleasant-looking woman, with her own room close by, the