Friday, July 12

Friday, July 12
    A restless night! At Dieppe our windows - our rooms all joined, a fine location- looked upon the sea. Here, at Rouen they looked upon the Seine, busy with small steam boats that perhaps did service for the many factories south of the river in the newer city. Little that would call for steamboats was to be discovered in the older part of the city, that back of the Hotel. Apart from a few streets, everything inclined to the miserable and squalid, - though the people seemed happy enough. (45) But the ships - their whistles kept us awake, miserably helpless to stop their racket, fretted to no purpose.
    At nine thirty we had managed to hurry the waiters sufficiently to have our breakfast over with. Every meal seemed to them to be a state occasion.
    But no coach! Then a telephone message came to Mr. S from the stable, to the effect that the best of the 4 horses of the previous day, a restless energetic wheeler, doing more than his share of the work with one leader loafing, had been made ill by the heat, and was scarcely fit for resuming the trip. So a council was held. It was decided to journey to Paris by rail and to return on Saturday to go on with the coaching trip. Accordingly, we had four hours to spend in old Rouen. We then "did" thoroughly the scenes we had visited the evening before, especially loitering in the donjon - all left of a once strongly fortified chateau- where Joan D'a spent the days just before her death.
    Hot, sizzling hot! Well we weren't driving. So we wandered little.  Lunch, restful (46) ease at the little tables on the wide pavement in front of the hotel – a sure sign of the continent, and then train to Paris. The heat left us disinclined to give too close care to the valley of the Seine, - with many crossings over the tortuous river. But as we neared Paris, we roused ourselves.
    Getting through the yards was almighty deliberate. Then a confusion at the station, Mr. S. having called 2 taxis, + the porter a third, making one too many. We tried to dismiss one of them, but he would have none of it. Called, he would be chosen! A policeman intervened. An excited throng. The two boy S's and I were not involved, so our chauffeur drove us to the Meurice. Soon the others followed, and we learned that Mr. S. paid the boisterous third 75 c (15 cents) for having made him lose his place in the starting line.
    After washing off the dust, Mr. S, C. + I strolled through the public gardens of the Tuilleries, and around the ancient palaces and Louvre, with a distant view of La Place de La Concorde. L' Arc de  Triomphe, and the Eiffel Tower. Surely a happy introduction (47) to this beautiful city.  Then back along the Rue de Rivoli, fronting the Tuilleries, all the street being uniform in architectural design.
    After dinner, four of us rambled out along the streets, up past the Opera, finally stopping for the sake of C. + F. at a moving picture show. Then home along other streets, and to bed while the music from the roof garden floated through our windows to charm us to rest.