The Project Gutenberg eBook ofAbroad

The Project Gutenberg eBook ofAbroadThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: AbroadIllustrator: Thomas CraneEllen Elizabeth HoughtonRelease date: November 12, 2007 [eBook #23460]Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Mark C. Orton, Emmy and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from images generously made available by TheInternet Archive/American Libraries.)*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ABROAD ***

This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

Title: AbroadIllustrator: Thomas CraneEllen Elizabeth HoughtonRelease date: November 12, 2007 [eBook #23460]Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Mark C. Orton, Emmy and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from images generously made available by TheInternet Archive/American Libraries.)

Title: Abroad

Illustrator: Thomas CraneEllen Elizabeth Houghton

Illustrator: Thomas Crane

Ellen Elizabeth Houghton

Release date: November 12, 2007 [eBook #23460]

Language: English

Credits: Produced by Mark C. Orton, Emmy and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from images generously made available by TheInternet Archive/American Libraries.)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ABROAD ***

ABROADInitials

BON VOYAGELast year, Dear Friends, we met "At Home,"And now "Abroad" we mean to roam:With all who choose to spare the timeWe'll wander to a neighbouring clime.Nor need you leave your own fireside,For with fair Fancy for our guide,Our winged thoughts, in swallow-flight,Shall cross the Channel smooth and bright:And in despite of wind or weather,We'll make our little tour together.Now on our Pictures you shall look:—To you we dedicate our Book.

PackingTitle page

Emblem

CONTENTSPAGE"Bon Voyage"3London: "Packing"—Frontispiece"The Departure—Title-pageOn the Way8Folkestone: Going on Board9Crossing the Channel10Boulogne: The Buffet12"The Hotel13"The Quay14"The First Morning in France15Rouen: "Good-night"16"Church of St. Ouen17"Blind Pierre19"Rue de l'Epicerie20"The Crèche21"The Schoolroom22"School Drill23Caen: The Arrival24"The Hotel25"The Hotel Kitchen26"The Washerwomen27"The Knife-grinder28

PAGE"Bon Voyage"3London: "Packing"—Frontispiece"The Departure—Title-pageOn the Way8Folkestone: Going on Board9Crossing the Channel10Boulogne: The Buffet12"The Hotel13"The Quay14"The First Morning in France15Rouen: "Good-night"16"Church of St. Ouen17"Blind Pierre19"Rue de l'Epicerie20"The Crèche21"The Schoolroom22"School Drill23Caen: The Arrival24"The Hotel25"The Hotel Kitchen26"The Washerwomen27"The Knife-grinder28

PAGE"Chocolate and Milk29"The Lacemakers31En Route—A Railway Crossing32"A Railway Station33Paris: The Gardens of the Palais Royale34"On the Boulevard35"The Tuileries Gardens36"Punch and Judy37"Musée de Cluny38"Staircase of Henry II.39"The Man in Armour40"The "Zoo"41"The Pony Tramway42"The Swans43"A Flower Stall44"A Day at Versailles45"La Fontaine des Innocents47"The Markets49"The Luxembourg Gardens51"The Merry-go-round52The Night Journey to Calais53Calais: The Water-Gate54Dover: Homeward Bound55"Bon Retour"56THE VERSES ARE BY VARIOUS WRITERS

THE VERSES ARE BY VARIOUS WRITERS

My readers, would you like to goabroad, for just an hour or so,With little friends of different ages? Look at them in these pictured pages—Brothers and sisters you can see,—all children of one family.Their father, too, you here will find, and good Miss Earle, their teacher kind.Three years ago their Mother died, and ever since has Father triedTo give his children in the Spring some tour, or treat, or pleasant thing.Said he, last Easter, "I propose, for Nellie, Dennis, Mabel, Rose,A trip abroad—to go with me to Paris and through Normandy."Then all exclaimed, "Oh! glorious!"—"But may not Bertie go with us?—"Said Rose—"We can't leavehimat home." Then Father said he too should come.Turn to the Frontispiece and see the children packing busily.The next page shows them in the station at Charing Cross. Their great elationIs written plainly on their faces.—Bell rings—"Time's up—Come, take your places!"* * * * *The "Folkestone Express" sped on like a dream,And there lay the steamer fast getting up steam.

Then at the Folkestone harbour, down they goNellie, Miss Earle, and Bertie too appear,Across the gangway to the boat below;Whilst Dennis, with the rugs, brings up the rear.Mabel and Rose just crossing you can see,May looks behind her with an anxious air,Each holding her new doll most carefully.Lest Father, at the last, should not be there.

Folkstone Harbor

Our children once on board, all safe and sound,But while the turmoil loud and louder grows,Watch with delight the busy scene around."I'm glad the wind blows gently," whispers Rose.The noisy steam-pipe blows and blows away,—And as the steamer swiftly leaves the quay,"Now this is just the noise we like," they say.Mabel and Dennis almost dance with glee.

The sea is calm, and clear the sky—only a few clouds scudding by:The Passengers look bright, and say, "Are we not lucky in the day!"The Mate stands in the wheelhouse there, and turns the wheel with watchful care:Steering to-day is work enough; what must it be when weather's rough?Look at him in his sheltered place—hehasn't got a merry face—'Tis not such fun forhim, you know, he goes so often to and fro.Nellie and Father, looking back, glance at the vessel's lengthening track—"How far," says Nellie, "we have come! good-bye, good-bye, dear English home!"Dennis and Rose and Mabel, walking upon the deck, are gaily talking—Says Mabel, "No one must forget to call my new doll 'Antoinette';Travelling in France, 'twould be a shame for her to have an English name."Says Dennis, "Call her what you will, so you be English 'Mabel' still."Says Rose, to Dennis drawing nigher, "I think the wind is getting higher;""If a gale blows, do you suppose, we shall be wrecked?" asks little Rose.

Crossing the Channel

On Board

Top decoration cupscoffee potWhile chatting with Dennis, Rose lost all her fear;And the swift Albert Victor came safe to the pierAt Boulogne, where they landed, and there was the trainIn waiting to take up the travellers again.But to travel so quickly was not their intent:On a little refreshment our party was bent.Here they are at the Buffet—for dinner they wait—And the tallgarçon, André, attends them in state.coffee potAt the BuffetAt a separate table sits Monsieur Legros,And behind him his poodle, Fidèle, you must know,Who can dance, he's so clever, and stand and on his head,Or upon his nose balance a morsel of bread.Mabel takes up some sugar to coax him, whilst NellCalls him to her—Fidèle understands very well—"Why! he must have learnt English, he knows what we say,"Mabel cries, "See!—he begs in the cleverest way."plates

While chatting with Dennis, Rose lost all her fear;And the swift Albert Victor came safe to the pierAt Boulogne, where they landed, and there was the trainIn waiting to take up the travellers again.But to travel so quickly was not their intent:On a little refreshment our party was bent.Here they are at the Buffet—for dinner they wait—And the tallgarçon, André, attends them in state.

At a separate table sits Monsieur Legros,And behind him his poodle, Fidèle, you must know,Who can dance, he's so clever, and stand and on his head,Or upon his nose balance a morsel of bread.Mabel takes up some sugar to coax him, whilst NellCalls him to her—Fidèle understands very well—"Why! he must have learnt English, he knows what we say,"Mabel cries, "See!—he begs in the cleverest way."

Then to the Hotel on the quay they all went;To remain till the morrow they all were content:After so much fatigue Father thought it was best,For the children were weary and needed the rest.Pictured here is the room in that very Hotel,Where so cosily rested Rose, Mabel, and Nell.clock and candle

In the hotel room

Mabel dreamed of the morrow—of buying French toys:Rose remembered the steam-pipe, and dreamed of its noise.Nellie's dreams were of home, but she woke from her tranceFull of joy, just to think they werereallyin France.Very early next morning, you see them all threeLooking out from their window that faces the sea.

The Ships

Here they see a pretty sight,Sunny sky and landscape bright:Fishing-boats move up and down,With their sails all red and brown.Some to land are drawing near,O'er the water still and clear,Full of fish as they can be,Caught last night in open sea.On the pavement down below,Fishwives hurry to and fro,Calling out their fish to sell—"What a noisy lot," says Nell,"What a clap—clap—clap—they makeWith their shoes each step they take.Wooden shoes, I do declare,And oh! what funny caps they wear!"After breakfast all went outTo view the streets, and walk aboutThe ancient city-walls, so strong,Where waved the English flag for long.Toy shops too they went to see,Spread with toys so temptingly:Dolls of every kind were there,With eyes that shut and real hair—And, in a brightly-coloured row,Doll-fisherfolk like these below.Prices marked, as if to say,"Come and buy us, quick, to-day!"One for Mabel, one for Rose,Twofor Bertie I suppose,Father bought.—Then all once moreSet off travelling as before.

The People

To Rouen next they went, that very day,Dennis bought chocolate to make a feast—And heard strange places called out by the way,They hadthreedinners in the train, at least.Where bells kept tinkling while the train delayed:At Rouen here they are at last, though late—At Amiens ten minutes quite they stayed.The bedroom clock there shows 'tis after eight!

At the fire

Mabel looks tired—she lies back in her chairBeside the wood fire burning brightly there.Rose says—"Good-night!"—to Bertie fast asleep,While her own eyes can scarcely open keep.Next morning, through the quaint old streets of RouenThey went to see the old church of Saint Ouen,With eager feet, and chatting as they walked,About the ancient Town, together talked.

ChurchSt OuenSaid Dennis, first,"This city boldBelonged to usIn days of old."Said Nellie, "HerePrince Arthur wept—By cruel JohnA prisoner kept.Here Joan of ArcWas tried and burned,When fickle fateAgainst her turned."Said Rose, "Oh dear!It makes me sadTo think what troublePeople hadWho lived once inThis very town,Where we walk gailyUp and down."

The beggar at the door

Now they have come into the entrance wideOf great St. Ouen's Church; see, side by side,Dennis and Nellie going on before:The others watch yon beggar at the door—Poor blind Pierre; he always waits just so,Listening for those who come and those who go.He tells his beads, and hopes all day that someMay think of him, 'mongst those who chance to come.Though he can't see, he is so quick to hear,He knows a long, long time ere one draws near,And shakes the coppers in his well-worn tin—"Click, click," it goes—see, Bertie's gift drops in.'Tis hisonesou that Bertie gives away—It might have bought him sweets this very day.When through St. Ouen's Church they'd been at last,Along its aisles and down its transept passed,They went to the Cathedral, there to seeThe tomb of Rolf, first Duke of Normandy.But Mabel said, "Why should weEnglishcareAbout that Rolf they say was buried there?"Then she ran on, not waiting for reply—My little reader, canyoutell her why?

RouenRue de L'EpicerieThe Cathedral was cold,With its dim solemn aisles,But outside our friends foundThe sun waiting, with smiles,To show them their way,So hither they cameAlong an old streetWith a hard French name.And still walking onward,Through streets we can't see,At length reached the CrècheOf "Sœur Rosalie"—Where poor women's childrenAre kept all day through,Amused, taught, and tended,And all for onesou.horse

Children are happy with "Sister" all day,Mothers can't nurse them—they work far away.Good Sister Rosalie, she is so kind,E'en when they're troublesome, she doesn't mind.Here in the first room the Babies we see, sitting atdejeunerround Rosalie.

In the Nursery

Dodo is crying, he can't find his spoon—some one will find it and comfort him soon.Over yon cradle bends kind Sister Claire,Dear little Mimi is waking up there.Sister Félicité, sweetly sings she,"Up again, down again,Bébé, to me."

The school-room of theCrècheis wide,The children sit there, side by side,While "Sister" hears their lessons through,And when there's no more work to doThey all get up, and form a ring,And as they stand, together sing.Now hand in hand, tramp, tramp they go,Now in a line march to and fro,For with the rattle in her handThe "Sister" makes them understandWhen to advance and when draw back—Click-clack it goes, click-clack, click-clack.On Stéphanie now turn your eyes,She's only five, but she's so wise—She knows the alphabet all through,And, more than that, can teach it too.Just now, she moves her wand to J,And tells the children what to say.But 'tis no use to tell Ninette,For she is but abébéyet.

With Sister

ARRIVAL AT CAEN.

Through Rouen when our friends had been,Next up the staircase see them go,And all its famous places seen,Withfemme de chambrethe way to show.They travelled on, old Caen to see,Father and Dennis, standing there,Another town in Normandy.Are asking for the bill of fare.Arrived at Caen, the travellers hereMonsieur leMaître, who rubs his handsBefore the chief Hotel appear,And says, "What areMonsieur'scommands?"Miss Earle, Rose, Bertie you descry—With scrape and bow, again you see—The rest are coming by-and-by.The most polite of men is he.Monsieur leMaître, with scrape and bow,Stands ready to receive them now,And Madame with her blandest air,And their alertCommissionaire.

Arrival at Caen

Up the Stairs

MenuNow that dinner is ordered, we'll just take a peepAt the cooks in the kitchen—just see! what a heapOf plates are provided, and copper pans too;—They'll soon make a dinner for me and for you.French cookery's famous for flavouring rare,But ofgarlicI think they've enough and to spare.DishesKitchenMenuDishesIf we ask how their wonderful dishes are made,I'm afraid they won't tell us the tricks of the trade.Do they make them, I wonder, of frogs and of snails?Or are these, after all, only travellers' tales?The names are all down on the "Menu," no doubt,But the worst of it is that we can't make them out.

Now that dinner is ordered, we'll just take a peepAt the cooks in the kitchen—just see! what a heapOf plates are provided, and copper pans too;—They'll soon make a dinner for me and for you.French cookery's famous for flavouring rare,But ofgarlicI think they've enough and to spare.

If we ask how their wonderful dishes are made,I'm afraid they won't tell us the tricks of the trade.Do they make them, I wonder, of frogs and of snails?Or are these, after all, only travellers' tales?The names are all down on the "Menu," no doubt,But the worst of it is that we can't make them out.

The WasherwomenWashing in the riverHere the childrenCame next morn,Walking byThe river Orne;Near the poplarsOn the green,Where the WasherwivesAre seen.Here they lookedAt old Nannette,Wringing outThe garments wet;Saw how Eugénie,Her daughter,Soaked them firstIn running water;Watched the washersSoaping, scrubbing,With their malletsRubbing, drubbing—Working hardWith all their might,Till the clothesWere clean and white.Towel

"L'homme qui passe," in France they callThe man who thrivesTHEBy grinding knives—Who never stays at home at all,KNIFE-GRINDERBut always must be moving on.OF CAEN.He's glad to findSome knives to grind,But when they're finished he'll be gone.With dog behind to turn the wheel,He grinds the knifeFor farmer's wife,And pauses now the edge to feel:The dog behind him hears the soundOf cheerful chatOn this and that,And fears no knife is being ground.The man makes jokes with careless smile,He doesn't mindThe dog behind,But goes on talking all the while.

Knife-sharpener

CHOCOLATE AND MILK.Little Lili, whose age isn't three years quite,Went one day with Mamma for a long country walk,Keeping up, all the time, such a chatter and talkOf the trees, and the flowers, and the cows, brown and white.Soon she asked for some cake, and some chocolate too,For this was her favourite lunch every day—"Dear child," said Mamma, "let me see—I dare sayChocolat a toute heure

Chocolate cowsLait Fraichment trait"If I ask that nice milkmaid, and say it's for you,Some sweet milk we can get from her pretty white cow.""I would rather have chocolate," Lili averred.Then Mamma said, "Dear Lili, please don't be absurd;My darling, you cannot have chocolate now:You know we can't get it so far from the town.—Come and stroke the white cow,—see, her coat's soft as silk.""But, Mamma," Lili said, "if theWhitecow gives milk,Then chocolate surely must come from theBrown."

"If I ask that nice milkmaid, and say it's for you,Some sweet milk we can get from her pretty white cow.""I would rather have chocolate," Lili averred.Then Mamma said, "Dear Lili, please don't be absurd;My darling, you cannot have chocolate now:You know we can't get it so far from the town.—Come and stroke the white cow,—see, her coat's soft as silk.""But, Mamma," Lili said, "if theWhitecow gives milk,Then chocolate surely must come from theBrown."

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