We were all obliged to laugh at the Doctor's wit; and having taken leave of the polite old gentleman, we were seated in our carriages again for a drive through the woods of Boulogne.
In the midst of these wild and truly beautiful grounds the Indians and all got down for a stroll. The native wildness of the forests and jungle seemed in a moment to inspire them with their wild feelings, which had, many of them, long slumbered whilst mingling amidst the crowds of civilization, and away they leapt and bounded among the trees in their wild and wonted amusements. Their shrill yells and the war-whoop were soon lost in the distant thickets which they penetrated, and an hour at least elapsed before they could all be gathered together and prepared to return. Their frightful yells had started up all the rabbits that were unburrowed in the forests; and whilst hundreds were bounding about, and many taking to the open fields for escape, they encompassed one, and with their united screams had scared it to death. This they assured us was the case, as they brought it in by the legs, without the mark of any weapon upon it.
Few scenes in Paris, if any, had pleased them more than this, and in their subsequent drives they repeatedly paid their visits to the "woods of Boulogne."
On their return home poor Jim lay down, complaining very much of lameness from his hard ride on Franconi's horse, which he knew would prevent him from dancing for some days, as he was getting very stiff, and afraid he would not be well enough to go and see the "Industrious Fleas" (as they were called), where he and the Doctor and Jeffrey had arranged to go with Daniel and several young American acquaintance, who had decided it to be one of the choicest little sights then to be seen in Paris, and which from all accounts is an exhibition of female nudities in living groups, ringing all the changes on attitude and action for the amusement of the lookers-on. There was a great deal of amusing conversation about this very popular exhibition, but in this poor Jim and the Doctor reluctantly submitted to disappointment when Mr. Melody very properly objected to their going to see it.
Jim had laid himself on his back at this time, and, not feeling in the best of humour, began in a tirade of abuse of the Frenchwomen, of whom he and the Doctor had seen more perhaps on the previous evening in the _Jardin Mabille_ in the Champs Elysées, and the _masquerade_ in the _Grand Opera House_, than they had seen since they entered Paris.