DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.61635#0083
[ 79 ]
line view of disreputably
shabby back doors,
women appearing and
disappearing as they
emptied their pails and
pots, and of battered
windows from which
hung the family ward-
robes. It was then, I
believe, we pronounced
Amiens the French
Venice—an original idea
which most likely occurs
to every tourist fortunate
enough to find his way to
the banks of the Somme.
Indeed I have since read
that in the good old days,
before a straight street
had been dreamed of
by city officials, the town
was known as Little
Venice.
Delightful as were the
scenes by the river in
the late afternoon, they
were even more so in
the early morning, when,
from
line view of disreputably
shabby back doors,
women appearing and
disappearing as they
emptied their pails and
pots, and of battered
windows from which
hung the family ward-
robes. It was then, I
believe, we pronounced
Amiens the French
Venice—an original idea
which most likely occurs
to every tourist fortunate
enough to find his way to
the banks of the Somme.
Indeed I have since read
that in the good old days,
before a straight street
had been dreamed of
by city officials, the town
was known as Little
Venice.
Delightful as were the
scenes by the river in
the late afternoon, they
were even more so in
the early morning, when,
from