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10

become tiresome, I should think.------ Getting back to the starting point about 1 o'clock, I went into the Madeline, and inadvertently attended somebody's wedding. The priest preached for nearly half an hour at the pair, seated before him in the chancel. While the glorious organ played I noticed people getting out their purses, so I did too. (There were plenty like me, not guests, in the back of the church.) Along came a little flower girl attended by a boy in Eton jacket, taking up a collection in a tiny flower-trimmed basket. I gave a franc. A minute later came a bridesmaid (or a girl dressed like one) and an escort, passing another basket. I was so flabbergas ed [[word cut off: flabbergasted]] I couldn't get my purse out in time. Then came a third pair. I thought if it was a habit I might as well quit, anyway. But there were only the three pairs. People seemed to give a small coin to each--at least I saw coins with holes in, and these are centimes, 5 and 10. At the head of this procession of collectors marched a man in red velvet and gold trimmings, with a big gold stick and a Napoleonic gold-trimmed [[underlined]] hat on his head! [[/underlined]] The girls and their escorts look [[looked?]] as if they were going through the figures of a fancy dance. I hope I can see the Madeline when nothing is going on, when I come back. The staginess of that performance did not fit that beautiful place.
---------Nobody understands my French. I say it so carefully, and am met with a blank stare. I don't try it until English has failed. This afternoon, before train time, I saw an inviting little bakery [[image: pencil drawing in left margin of a head with specific hairstyle]] with little tables and some short-skirted girls with 3-lobed heads so like Washington or New York I thought they must speak English. None did, but one understood "cafe." "Cafe au lait?" I said "Oui, cafe au lait y pain." She looked bewildered. I tried pang, pan, and every shade in between, but she only stared, so I went over and pointed to some rolls and held up two fingers. Thus I got my supper (1 franc, 50 centimes, less than 15 cents.) Mark Twain was right, ^[[the French do not understand their own language.-- I filled up on]]