Jim stopped a fellow this morning and asked him, "Ou est la chemin pour Luxembourg ?" The fellow took off his hat and was awfully civil, and said, "Par ici, messieurs," and took us a walk of about three miles, and landed us at a railway station.

He thought we wanted to go to Luxembourg in Germany, or wherever it is--fare about three cool sovs.
The fellow hung about us most of the rest of the day, expecting a tip.
Likely idea that, after the game he'd had with us! We couldn't shake him off till we bolted into one of the swimming baths on the river.
That smoked him out.

Most of these chaps draw the line at a tub.

Would you believe it?
at our inn, they never seem to have heard of soap in their lives, and we got quite tired of saying "savon" before we found some in a shop.

Jim thinks they use it all up for soup.