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My dear Mother

The roof leaked; this paper has had a bath, likewise the floor, my stove, Robert and the coal scuttle. It rained torrents, as I sleep in the balcony my bed and I remained stationary. 

Bob is going to leave day after tomorrow. Going to London. 

We today visited Versailles, it seemed going with Bob to give me much more pleasure. Not because he was such agreeable company. For at times he was dreadfully irritated. Saying, "well, I'd hate to travel any where with you," "Catch me going again," &c.  At which I'd roar, and we would walk on be silent as a thick forest on a mid summers day, saying in a snappy way "What? No! Yes, &c.." I think he enjoyed himself a little. 

Now these frozen spells come on him for three reasons - 1st He is a little mulish (liable to kick), 2d He does not think I'm a good guide, 3 - No doubt has he that he knows it all. And when we travel together he is continually suggesting short cuts which leads us in to blind alleys or a circular course. As you know the gardens of Versailles are not equaled in beauty and design.  The sun was shining; on all sides we were surrounded by beauty. We walked thro' the galleries, now and then, I would suggest that such a picture was well done, or some done interesting in design and Robert would say, "You seem to think I am blind." "Come along." It got so we walked about two hundred feet apart. Reminded me of a game of run sheep run. When I would try to catch up he'd dive ahead. After lunch we again entered the garden this time together. 

We had a feast for our ears, and eyes, in fact even the odors of that garden, are artistically arranged. The great French