Olla Podrida | Page 3

children clapped their little hands, and cried out for Bruges
and cheap peaches.
It was further submitted that it was convenient--you might go the whole
of the way by water--and Bruges was immediately under consideration.
"If you go to Bruges, you will find it very dull," observed another; "but
you'll meet Mrs Trollope there--now Brussels is very little farther, and
is a delightful place;" and Brussels was also referred to the committee.
"You won't like Brussels--there is such a mixture, and house-rent is

dear. Now I should recommend Spa for the summer--it is a most
beautiful spot--and excellent company." And Spa was added to the list.
Then after a day or two came an Anti-Teutonic, who railed against
Germany--and Germans--German towns, German travelling, and
German French, which was detestable--German cookery, which was
nothing but grease. "You may imagine," said he, "and so have many
more, that Germany is more pleasant and less expensive than France;
but they have been disappointed, and so will you be. Now, for a quiet
place, I should recommend Saint Omer--only thirty miles from
Calais--so convenient--and very pretty."
Saint Omer--humph--very quiet and retired--and no politics--and Saint
Omer was occasionally canvassed.
"Saint Omer!" said another who called the next day, "you'll die of ennui.
Go to Boulogne--it is delightful--you may be there as retired or as gay
as you please."
Boulogne to be taken into consideration many inquiries made and all
very satisfactory--good sands and excellent jackasses for the children.
"My dear friend, Boulogne is something like the King's Bench--at least
most of the people only go there in preference. Every body will
suppose that you've levanted. Pray don't go to Boulogne."
"Why don't you go by Southampton to Havre--there you'll have quiet
and amusement--beautiful country about Honfleur--scenery up the
Seine splendid; and then you can go up to Rouen by water, if you
intend to go on to Paris."
Havre and Honfleur submitted to the committee.
But then came Dieppe, and Brest, and the environs of Paris, Versailles,
Saint Germain, Passy, and other recommendations, in which every one
particular place was proved incontestably to be more particularly suited
to us than any other, and the committee sat for three weeks, at the end
of which, upon examining the matured opinions of the last seven days,

I found them to have fluctuated as follows:--
Monday morning, Manheim. Evening, Spa.
Tuesday morning, Bruges. Evening Brussels.
Wednesday morning, Saint Omer. Evening, Boulogne.
Thursday morning, Havre. Evening Honfleur.
Friday morning, Dieppe. Evening, Passy.
Saturday morning, Versailles. Evening, Saint Germain.
Sunday morning, Spa. Evening, Brussels.
The fact was, that there was a trifling difference of opinion in the
committee--the great object appeared to be, and the great difficulty at
the same time, to find a place which would suit all parties, that is to say,
a place where there were no politics, plenty of gaiety, and cheap
peaches.
CHAPTER THREE.
Paddle, paddle--splash, splash--bump, thump, bump. What a leveller is
sea-sickness--almost as great a radical as death. All grades, all respect,
all consideration are lost. The master may summon John to his
assistance, but John will see his master hanged before he'll go to him;
he has taken possession of his master's great coat, and he intends to
keep it--he don't care for warning.
The nurses no longer look after the infant or the children, they may
tumble overboard--even the fond yearnings of the mother at last yield
to the overwhelming sensation, and it it were not for the mercenary or
kind-hearted assistance of those who have become habituated to the
motion of a vessel, there is no saying how tragical might be the
commencement of many a party of pleasure to the Continent.

"O lauk, Mary, do just hold this child," says the upper nurse to her
assistant; "I do feel such a sinking in my stomach."
"Carn't indeed, nurse, I've such a rising."
Away hurried both the women at once to the side of the vessel, leaning
over and groaning heavily. As for the children, they would soon have
been past caring for, had it not been for my protecting arms.
Decorum and modesty, next to maternal tenderness, the strongest
feelings in woman, fall before the dire prostratiou of this malady. A
young lady will recline unwittingly in the arms of a perfect stranger,
and the bride of three months, deserted by her husband, will offer no
resistance to the uncouth seaman, who, in his kindness, would loosen
the laces that confine her heaving bosom.
As for politeness, even the ancien regime of the noblesse of France put
it in their pockets as if there were a general chaos--self is the only
feeling; not but that I have seen occasional traits of good-will towards
others. I once witnessed a young lady smelling to a bottle of Eau de
Cologne, as if her existence