We Were Now Left Alone In Our Glory,
And Felt Assured Of What We Had More Than Suspected Before, Namely,
That We Had Got Into The Wrong Boat.
We then, though rather too
late, inquired the cause of the extraordinary disproportion of the
passengers, and were told that the Etoile was the favourite boat
going down the river, while the Dorade had it hollow in going up.
We now began to consider the circumstances of the case, and the
chances of our not arriving time enough at the place of debarkation
to get on to Paris by the rail-road that night. Agreeing that the
detention would not be of the least consequence, that we should enjoy
having the whole boat to ourselves, and the slow method of travelling,
which would enable us the better to contemplate the beauties of the
river, we made up our minds to a day of great enjoyment. The weather
was fine, a cool breeze allaying the heat of the sun, which shone upon
us occasionally through clouds too high to afford any apprehension of
rain.
The boat was very elegantly fitted up below, the ladies' cabin, in
particular, being splendidly furnished. Above, the choice of seats
proved very acceptable, since, in consequence of a new-fangled
apparatus, we had four chimnies, whence sparks escaped in a constant
shower, threatening destruction to any garment that might be exposed
to them. Seated, therefore, at the prow, beyond the reach of this
fiery shower, after partaking of an excellent breakfast, there being
a first-rate restaurateur on board, we began to converse with a very
intelligent boatman, who amused us with the legends of the river and
accounts of the different places which we passed.
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