The exterior of the train is perfectly air-smoothed and to cut passenger steps up to recessed doors would never do; when the deep doors are shut, therefore, the steps fold up ingeniously on the inside of them to create a level floor in the corridor of the coach.

Before him lay extended the brown body of a donkey, whose broken lariot and fixed eye told the tale. I thought for a moment that its hoof was moving; but before a word had passed, all was still.[…] / “Messieurs, it was not my fault. I told them at Weggis the animal was too small; but they forced him on me, saying that he was a convenient size. My legs touched ground. They said I should escape a fall. The donkey was hungry and emulous. I had no guide to restrain him; but I did not urge him. He weakened as he warmed. He drank of the cold rills. He brayed aloud. He passed the châlet with a snort;—he snorted out his breath. Ah, Messieurs! it is all over with him and me. How shall I get down to-morrow with a gout and no donkey? This air is sharpening it into rheumatism,” swore he with a German oath, as, resting on one leg, he / “Steadfastly gazed on the face of the dead, / And bitterly thought of the morrow.” / “Rank equicide!” growled the Scot. “Puir mewel!” / By this time, the entire procession was gathered round the deceased.

His own flesh, however, which he lost by famine, shall be restored to him by Him who can recover even what has evaporated.

I apologize for appearing to sneer. Of course I'm anxious for all people who have an interest in wine to have their interest taken seriously. The last thing wine needs is more snobism.