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    Around the World in Eighty Days
    Around the World in Eighty Days
    Around the World in Eighty Days
    Ebook262 pages5 hours

    Around the World in Eighty Days

    By Jules Verne

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    In Jules Verne's Around the World in 80 Days, Phileas Fogg, a solitary British gentleman of the Victorian era wagers that he can circumnavigate the globe in under 80 days. With his french manservant, Passepartout, Fogg embarks on a great adventure taking him through Egypt, India, the South Pacific, San Francisco and the Great Plains of the United States. But will he succeed and collect on his bets? One of the best-loved works by the French adventure and science-fiction writer Jules Verne.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDreamscape Media
    Release dateSep 20, 2016
    ISBN9781974999835
    Author

    Jules Verne

    Victor Marie Hugo (1802–1885) was a French poet, novelist, and dramatist of the Romantic movement and is considered one of the greatest French writers. Hugo’s best-known works are the novels Les Misérables, 1862, and The Hunchbak of Notre-Dame, 1831, both of which have had several adaptations for stage and screen.

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    Reviews for Around the World in Eighty Days

    4/5

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    • 4/5
      A fast-paced adventure dripped with cliches and humor - I listened to the audio read by Jim Dale and it was a lovely way to spend an afternoon.
    • 3/5
      I have no idea if I’ve read this before – I don’t think so, but it’s hard to tell since I’ve seen versions of the films enough times over the decades to know the story. Except, well, they’re not the story. I don’t think any of the movies I’ve seen – I can think of two, off the top of my head, one starring David Niven and the other Steve Coogan – are at all faithful to the book. Yes, Phineas Fogg accepts a challenge to travel around the world in eighty days. Yes, he thinks he’s failed, only to discover that by travelling east he has gained a day. Yes, he has adventures along the way, and even rescues a young woman who becomes his wife at the end of the book. But in the novel, he meets her in India, when he rescues her from suttee. And I don’t recall a Scotland Yard detective on Fogg’s trail for much of his travels – he believes Fogg stole £50,000 shortly before leaving London. And the final section, in which a desperate Fogg, Passepartout, Fix and Aouda race across the USA to catch a ship to Liverpool… the big set-piece is driving a train over a damaged bridge at high speed so the bridge doesn’t collapse under it. Much of the prose is larded with geography lessons, and while Verne’s didactism is one of the more charming aspects of his novels, here it seems overdone. True, I’m coming at the book more than a century later, as a member of a society considerably better-informed about world geography, and a highly-educated member of that society with an interest in other countries… So much of the exposition was superfluous as far as I was concerned. Further, Fogg’s characterisation as unemotional and po-faced hardly made him a sympathetic protagonist. Perhaps Verne intended this so the reader would indeed think Fogg was the bank robber, but it only made him feel like he had zero depth. Unfortunately, I’m not convinced, from what I remember, that the film adaptations are especially superior. The book is, I suspect, the best version of the story. Which is a bit of a shame.
    • 3/5
      Interesting story from a historical perspective. Definitely not something that could be written today.
    • 3/5
      Finally read this - I think I read it before, many many years ago, but the only thing I remember was the end, not any of their travels. It's mildly interesting, but not much to it - actually, the most interesting part is that the "hero" is not the POV character. We get scenes from Passepartout, a few from Fix, a few from Aouda - but Phileas Fogg is seen only from the outside. The closest we come to knowing what's going on with him is a few scenes where the author "watches" him, recounting what he's doing, and speculating on what he's thinking and feeling - and we never get any idea why he'd make the bet in the first place. A very odd twist. But overall, it reads like the world's longest shaggy dog story - chapter after chapter after chapter just to say "and he didn't know he'd lost a day!" Of course, in reality, he would have noticed the day change as soon as the liner landed in America and he was taking a train. And given they missed the liner from the East Coast by less than a day...the whole last section with burning the ship may have been utterly unnecessary. It's an amusing story, I'm glad I've finally read it, and I see no need to ever read it again.
    • 4/5
      My most recent installment book was Around the World in Eighty Days by Jules Verne which was originally published in 1873 and I think it has definitely aged well. The story is told in a simple straightforward style, and the various global adventures move the story along at a rapid pace. The plot is a little silly yet the book comes together nicely and before too long the reader finds himself involved in the story and rooting for the participants. The characters are distinct and well developed from the routine-obsessed, uptight yet cool main character who travels around the world based on a bet from some of the gentlemen at his club, to the sympathetic French manservant who is loyal, smart and a very good gymnast. Even the lesser developed characters of Aouda, the Indian lady, to Fix, the stalking policeman, are colourful and add to the story. Around the World in Eighty Days is light, fun and makes for great escape reading. A little dated, to be sure, but overall a very good read.
    • 3/5
      Ok boring at points
    • 4/5
      London, 1872Huset, Saville Row nr 7, Burlington Gardens, beboes af Phileas Fogg, esq. En excentrisk, men elskværdig og rig engelsk gentleman med en vældig kapabel og gesvindt fransk tjener Jean med tilnavnet Passepartout. Tjeneren er et nyt bekendtskab for den anden oktober om morgenen afskedigede han sin tjener, James Forster, fordi denne havde bragt ham barbervand, der holdt 80 Gr. Fahrenheit i stedet for 90. Passepartout er på sin side begejstret for at tjene en rolig og systematisk herre som Fogg. Der kommer dog hurtigt noget på tværs.Fogg er medlem af Reformklubben i London og da han er meget vidende om geografi og rejser, roder han sig ud i et væddemål om at rejse Jorden rundt på 80 dage. Anledningen til væddemålet er en diskussion om en gentleman, der har nappet £55000 fra banken og gjort både dem og sig selv usynlig.Fogg holder £20000 på at Jorden er blevet så meget mindre i vor tid at man både i teori og praksis kan nå turen på 80 dage. Fem af vennerne fra Reformklubben: Stuart, Fallentin, Sullivan, Flanagan og Ralph holder tilsvarende hver £4000 imod.Efter at have spillet sit parti kort færdigt, tager Fogg hjem og fortæller Passepartout at de skal på en rejse Jorden rundt og afrejser om 10 minutter mod Dover og Calais. Passepartout pakker som befalet en vadsæk og er klar til tiden. Han har altid sit familieur på sig og insisterer på at det viser tiden rigtigt uanset at tidszonerne skifter under rejsen. Desværre har han også erindringen om at have glemt at slukke gassen i sit kammer, inden han gik ud af døren.En meget nidkær men fantasiløs opdagelsesbetjent, Fix, har sat sig i hovedet at Fogg er identisk med banktyven og rejser efter i håb om at kunne arrestere ham. Rejsen går Fix imod. De kommer omkring Brindisi, Suez, Bombay, Calcutta, Singapore, Honkong, Yokohama, St. Francisco, Newyork, Liverpool, og London, og hver gang er Fix ikke lige i stand til at slå en klo i Fogg. Han gør sig gode venner med Passepartout på vejen til Indien.En del af vejen i Indien er de nødt til at tilbagelægge på en dertil dyrt indkøbt elefant, men undervejs redder de Mrs. Aouda fra enkebrændingens bål.I Calcutta står Fix klar med en anklage, men Fogg stiller £2000 som kaution og tager videre. Fix følger efter og Passepartout får en ide om at Fix er udsendt af Reformklubben for at checke at alt går rigtigt til. I Hongkong toner Fix dog rent flag ved at fortælle Passepartout at han er politiagent, men han drikker ham også under bordet og giver ham lidt opium at ryge oveni!Fogg, Mrs. Aouda og stakkels Passepartout bliver agterudsejlet, men Fogg får fat i en (for lille) båd og stikker til Japan i den. En tyfon hjælper Tangadére på vej mod Shanghai. Imens har Passepartout faktisk skaffet sig om bord i Carnatic, men uden Fogg. Passepartout tager job som fransk klovn, men løber af pladsen, da Fogg dukker op. Via Shanghai har Fogg indhentet damperen til Yokohama og her genforenes han med Passepartout.Yokohama - San Francisco sker med hjuldamperen "General Grant". Fix og Passepartout slutter våbenhvile, for Fix er nu interesseret i at få Fogg tilbage på engelsk jord og vil gerne lette vejen. De tager tog fra San Francisco til New York og når lige over en faldefærdig jernbanebro i bedste stumfilmsstil.En duel mellem en amerikaner, Oberst Proctor og Fogg bliver afbrudt af et indianerangreb. Passepartout er dagens helt og redder alle, men bliver selv taget til fange. Han bliver befriet og via en gang issejllads indhenter de igen forsinkelsen. En Jerndamper "Henrietta" bliver hyret til turen til England og så går turen ellers mod Liverpool efter et lille raskt mytteri ombord. I Liverpool arresterer Fix hr. Phineas Fogg og får ham smidt i fængsel.Det er lidt trist, da man i mellemtiden har afsløret en hr. James Strard som Banktyven. Fogg giver Fix en omgang bank og forsøger at nå til London i tide, men forgæves. Imidlertid finder han og Mrs. Aouda ud af at de vil giftes og undervejs i arrangementet af dette, viser det sig at de har regnet en dag for sent.Alt ender i lykke og gammen.Herlig historie.
    • 5/5
      So much fun! Phileas Fogg has definitely become one of my favorite characters of fiction ever, and Jules Verne proves to be far more interesting than I expected. I will definitely be looking into his other Voyages Extraordinaires.
    • 3/5
      Verne's tale of a 19th century Englishman's travels around the world is most notable for its depiction of local cultures now far gone. Often quaint, sometimes humorous and occasionally a bit too dated for the modern reader. Hardly a great work, but still a fun read.
    • 4/5
      I read this classic without actually knowing anything about it other than title and author. The adventure aspect was more or less what I expected, but the humor was quite unexpected, and much appreciated. Passepartout, and to a lesser degree Detective Fix, provide a constant stream of humor throughout the novel.Phileas Fogg has made a bet with the members of his "gentleman's club" that he can circumnavigate the world and be back in the club within 80 days. Setting off with his newly hired valet, Passepartout, he is followed by Detective Fix, who is certain that Mr Fogg has robbed the bank of England and is seeking escape.This is not a classic in the sense of having any profound themes, symbolism or hidden meanings. It is a light, humorous, fun adventure story, well told.(Minor spoiler note: Look at the many cover art options available in Library Thing. Many of them feature balloons... one of the few modes of transport never mentioned in the book at all! The cover that best illustrates the book is actually the Apple Classics children's version for Scholastic.)
    • 4/5
      As I recall this book was a lot of fun! Oddly enough I have yet to see either of the movies, but the original Mike Todd one is "in my queue." Because of my lack of interest in "hard science fiction" it's the only Jules Verne book I've read, but it appears he was a good storyteller based on that.
    • 5/5
      I love Jules Verne. He's a ton of fun to read. The adventure stuff is fun, of course, but he also creates awesome characters. Nemo's probably his best-known, but the supremely phlegmatic Phineas Fogg of this book is nearly as memorable. His complete disinterest in exploring the places he passes through is sortof anathema to me, but maybe that's what makes him so fascinating; when I think of traveling around the world, it's with the purpose of seeing it, whereas he sees the entire thing simply as a series of obstacles to be overcome. It's remarkable in its pointlessness; at the end of the trip he has gained no money and experienced little of the cultures he's passed through. He made the trip solely to prove he could do it. (Sure, there's that one gain he seems pleased by at the end, but he hardly planned for that, so it has to be removed as a motive.)

      The only thing I remembered about this story was that the climax involves a hot air balloon, which turns out not to be true. So that was a surprise.

      ps phlegmatic is my new word. This book taught it to me. I'm gonna use it all the time. Sweet.
    • 1/5
      My high hopes for “Around the World in Eighty Days” were dashed in eight chapters or so.Having seen a film of this as a child, I expected a similar amount of fun and adventure, but instead I endured a tedious plot and unappealing characters.
    • 4/5
      Essentially light-hearted tale about a trip taken on a wager. The translation conveyed or possibly enhanced the humour.
    • 3/5
      Jim Dale (narrator of the Harry Potter series) really helped bring to life this classic adventure novel. Admittedly, I've never read the book or seen any of the movie adaptations, so I didn't know what to expect. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that there was no hot air balloon scene?! The most iconic book covers and images have always portrayed Phileas Fogg in a hot air balloon traveling around the world but, spoiler alert, that is not one of the methods used for transportation. While at his gentleman's club Fogg takes a bet that he can go round the world in 80 days. A precise, mathematical, and intelligent man, Fogg has no doubt that it can be done so he bets his life savings. Armed with only a small travel sack and his trusty French manservant, the two of them depart on the biggest adventure of their lives. Exotic adventures await them in China, India, Hong Kong, crossing the oceans, and America. Can Fogg really pull it off? And why is there a British man tailing him on this journey? A fun read for all ages. Admittedly, a little outdated in terms of racism and stereotypes of other religions and cultures, but it must be remembered that Jules Verne was viewing the world the British lens of imperialism at the time.
    • 4/5
      Loved the audio for this - read by the wonderful Jim Dale. Such a great classic tale!
    • 4/5
      A literary standard if you want to judge a book by its enjoyment level as opposed to its "literary quality."
    • 4/5
      I read the Project Gutenberg version of this, in the end: I don't know who translated it, but the translation was really quite nice. I enjoyed this book more than I expected to. For all that he bribes his way around the world, really, Phileas Fogg has some interesting adventures, including saving a lovely young woman and commandeering a ship. I thought the characters were all quite fun. There are stereotypes and so on, and it's very very biased toward all things English, seemingly, but knowing about that in advance, I could ignore it.

      I loved the end a lot more than I expected to. I thought it was clever, and I enjoyed seeing a softer side of Phileas Fogg (one that I had, of course, been suspecting for a while).
    • 4/5
      Wonderful narrator and includes some music from the movie. There is 7 hours and 53 minutes of listening. Phileas Fogg is the main character who wages a bet with his friends from his club that he could go around the world in 80 days. The bet was a considerable fortune and considering the time period of the 1870's, it would be an almost impossible feat. Mr. Fogg, with his attention to precise detail had quiet confidence that he would be able to be back at his club at 8:45 pm in exactly 80 days. Along the way, a Scotland Yard policeman Mr. Fix, decides Mr. Fogg is in reality a thief and decides it is his duty to follow Mr. Fog and arrest him if he can. Is Phileas Fogg a thief? His character shows great courage and so the reader is left to find out if wealthy Mr. Fogg is a thief and if he will win his bet.Much better than the movie!!!!!!!
    • 3/5
      It's Jules Verne. It's not fabulous - but it's not bad either. It was a fairly easy read. Nothing to rave about.
    • 4/5
      For Christmas, I ordered an mp3 player that was pre-loaded with 100 works of classic literature in an audio format. Each work is in the public domain and is read by amateurs, so the quality of the presentation is hit or miss. This was the second novel I’ve completed (the first being A Tale of Two Cities) and like the first, the reader, though not excellent, did not detract from the experience.Around the World in 80 Days follows the adventures of English gentleman Phileas Fogg and his man servant Passepartout as they attempt to circumnavigate the globe within 80 days, Fogg having wagered a large sum of money with his club friends that he could do so. The story is set in the late 19th century, involving transportation by steamer, sailing ship, railroad (and elephant), across the Indian and North American sub-continent as well as the Mediterranean Sea, Suez Canal, South China Sea and the Indian, Pacific, Atlantic Oceans. As you can imagine, Fogg’s itinerary is planned to the minute and permits no lost time of any sort if the bet is to be won. Clearly, world travel in the 19th century promises no such trouble free experience.Written by Jules Verne, I enjoyed the book, but became a little bit fatigued with the succession of last minute escapes, the contrivances of Detective Fix and the unlikely events that always kept Fogg just barely “alive” to win his bet, though the ending was good and believable (though I had already figured it out). Not a bad audio book to listen to as you drive down the road.
    • 5/5
      I read this book awhile ago so this review is not going to go into to much detail about what I liked and what I didn't like. However there is nothing about this book that I remember disliking.

      I loved it. I stayed up all night reading it- it helped that I have never seen any of the movies or met anyone else that has read this book (OK I don't actually know if that is true I guess some of my teachers had probably read this book but I haven't spoken about this book with anyone else who read it.) and, because of that, I had no idea what was going to happen in the end or even during the book. I thought it was all very entertaining- it was one of the first classics I read without being told to.

      When I finished it I said to myself, "Wow that was a good book." I love reading but that doesn't happen often for me (I can only think of two other books that have had that effect on me).

      I recommend this book to everyone but especially people who like adventure stories or classics.
    • 4/5
      Nook
      4 stars
      A wager to make a trip around the world in just 80 days starting from London. The journey takes advantage of several types of transportation. The author describes the people and the land but also math, science and new discoveries and inventions. It was fun to read this book written in the late 1800s. A very good adventure story and even a love story.
    • 4/5
      Great fun to read, although the cover is incorrect (showing camels). Interesting to note because the Barnes and Noble book jackets talks about the "wrongness" of the balloon in the Fifties film version. Fast paced, full of action, and why did I not read it years ago!
    • 4/5
      Having first read Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne, this one started out rather disappointing. Deciding to push through the rough beginning of the book, it proved to be gathering momentum. About halfway through, the book becomes less about character development and travel, and more about adventure. It was at this point which I started to enjoy the read, and found it very difficult to put down for the remainder. Though it started out slow, it had quite an unexpected and exciting finish, earning it my four stars. I would recommend this book.
    • 4/5
      A wonderful adventure story. This story, much like many of Verne's others, captures the imagination and lets the reader simply enjoy a good story. Every story might have a little something to teach us, or a little bit of a moral, but the adventures of Phileas Fogg are, to me, nothing more than a darn good story. It reminds me of a time when I could read for pleasure without having to expect a conspiracy, or to discover some hidden truth. Verne tells a story that often includes all the latest in technological advances, as was his style, but he seems to have no other desire but to entertain. It is often hard to read a "classic" due to the tendancy for a "classic" to be rather dated. Thie piece by Verne, though perhaps dated just a bit, is a classic for the best reason: it entertains!
    • 4/5
      I'd listen to almost anything read by Jim Dale. His soothing voice and amazing ability to portray characters makes it a joy.As to the text, Verne's classic tale is somewhat dated and very different from what we've come to expect based on modern film versions. Indeed, despite the cover art, I was surprised to learn the Fogg never travels in a hot air balloon. As an audiobook, this is a gem.
    • 3/5
      excelent book to read i also wish to travel around the world but not only in eighty days
    • 4/5
      I wanted to like this book more than I did. I was going to give it a rating of two and a half stars halfway through the book, but two thirds of the way through, the excitement was turned up a notch. The story meanders along for a while with peaks and troughs; some phases exciting but some rather dull. It then starts to really pick up and I found myself turning the pages faster and faster as Verne built up the tension in the story. There are some really nice ideas in Jules Verne's work, but he isn't consistent in his storytelling as he tends to get bogged down with small and sometimes insignificant details. A Journey To The Centre Of The Earth is by far his best novel.
    • 5/5
      I read this book for the first as a read-aloud to my son when he was about 12. We were rivetted, on the edge of our seats. Excitement and humour, a must read.

    Book preview

    Around the World in Eighty Days - Jules Verne

    CHAPTER I

    IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG AND PASSEPARTOUT ACCEPT EACH OTHER, THE ONE AS MASTER, THE OTHER AS MAN

    Mr. Phileas Fogg lived, in 1872, at No. 7, Saville Row, Burlington Gardens, the house in which Sheridan died in 1814. He was one of the most noticeable members of the Reform Club, though he seemed always to avoid attracting attention; an enigmatical personage, about whom little was known, except that he was a polished man of the world. People said that he resembled Byron—at least that his head was Byronic; but he was a bearded, tranquil Byron, who might live on a thousand years without growing old.

    Certainly an Englishman, it was more doubtful whether Phileas Fogg was a Londoner. He was never seen on 'Change, nor at the Bank, nor in the counting-rooms of the City; no ships ever came into London docks of which he was the owner; he had no public employment; he had never been entered at any of the Inns of Court, either at the Temple, or Lincoln's Inn, or Gray's Inn; nor had his voice ever resounded in the Court of Chancery, or in the Exchequer, or the Queen's Bench, or the Ecclesiastical Courts. He certainly was not a manufacturer; nor was he a merchant or a gentleman farmer. His name was strange to the scientific and learned societies, and he never was known to take part in the sage deliberations of the Royal Institution or the London Institution, the Artisan's Association, or the Institution of Arts and Sciences. He belonged, in fact, to none of the numerous societies which swarm in the English capital, from the Harmonic to that of the Entomologists, founded mainly for the purpose of abolishing pernicious insects.

    Phileas Fogg was a member of the Reform, and that was all.

    The way in which he got admission to this exclusive club was simple enough.

    He was recommended by the Barings, with whom he had an open credit. His cheques were regularly paid at sight from his account current, which was always flush.

    Was Phileas Fogg rich? Undoubtedly. But those who knew him best could not imagine how he had made his fortune, and Mr. Fogg was the last person to whom to apply for the information. He was not lavish, nor, on the contrary, avaricious; for, whenever he knew that money was needed for a noble, useful, or benevolent purpose, he supplied it quietly and sometimes anonymously. He was, in short, the least communicative of men. He talked very little, and seemed all the more mysterious for his taciturn manner. His daily habits were quite open to observation; but whatever he did was so exactly the same thing that he had always done before, that the wits of the curious were fairly puzzled.

    Had he travelled? It was likely, for no one seemed to know the world more familiarly; there was no spot so secluded that he did not appear to have an intimate acquaintance with it. He often corrected, with a few clear words, the thousand conjectures advanced by members of the club as to lost and unheard-of travellers, pointing out the true probabilities, and seeming as if gifted with a sort of second sight, so often did events justify his predictions. He must have travelled everywhere, at least in the spirit.

    It was at least certain that Phileas Fogg had not absented himself from London for many years. Those who were honoured by a better acquaintance with him than the rest, declared that nobody could pretend to have ever seen him anywhere else. His sole pastimes were reading the papers and playing whist. He often won at this game, which, as a silent one, harmonised with his nature; but his winnings never went into his purse, being reserved as a fund for his charities. Mr. Fogg played, not to win, but for the sake of playing. The game was in his eyes a contest, a struggle with a difficulty, yet a motionless, unwearying struggle, congenial to his tastes.

    Phileas Fogg was not known to have either wife or children, which may happen to the most honest people; either relatives or near friends, which is certainly more unusual. He lived alone in his house in Saville Row, whither none penetrated. A single domestic sufficed to serve him. He breakfasted and dined at the club, at hours mathematically fixed, in the same room, at the same table, never taking his meals with other members, much less bringing a guest with him; and went home at exactly midnight, only to retire at once to bed. He never used the cosy chambers which the Reform provides for its favoured members. He passed ten hours out of the twenty-four in Saville Row, either in sleeping or making his toilet. When he chose to take a walk it was with a regular step in the entrance hall with its mosaic flooring, or in the circular gallery with its dome supported by twenty red porphyry Ionic columns, and illumined by blue painted windows. When he breakfasted or dined all the resources of the club—its kitchens and pantries, its buttery and dairy—aided to crowd his table with their most succulent stores; he was served by the gravest waiters, in dress coats, and shoes with swan-skin soles, who proffered the viands in special porcelain, and on the finest linen; club decanters, of a lost mould, contained his sherry, his port, and his cinnamon-spiced claret; while his beverages were refreshingly cooled with ice, brought at great cost from the American lakes.

    If to live in this style is to be eccentric, it must be confessed that there is something good in eccentricity.

    The mansion in Saville Row, though not sumptuous, was exceedingly comfortable. The habits of its occupant were such as to demand but little from the sole domestic, but Phileas Fogg required him to be almost superhumanly prompt and regular. On this very 2nd of October he had dismissed James Forster, because that luckless youth had brought him shaving-water at eighty-four degrees Fahrenheit instead of eighty-six; and he was awaiting his successor, who was due at the house between eleven and half-past.

    Phileas Fogg was seated squarely in his armchair, his feet close together like those of a grenadier on parade, his hands resting on his knees, his body straight, his head erect; he was steadily watching a complicated clock which indicated the hours, the minutes, the seconds, the days, the months, and the years. At exactly half-past eleven Mr. Fogg would, according to his daily habit, quit Saville Row, and repair to the Reform.

    A rap at this moment sounded on the door of the cosy apartment where Phileas Fogg was seated, and James Forster, the dismissed servant, appeared.

    The new servant, said he.

    A young man of thirty advanced and bowed.

    You are a Frenchman, I believe, asked Phileas Fogg, and your name is John?

    Jean, if monsieur pleases, replied the newcomer, Jean Passepartout, a surname which has clung to me because I have a natural aptness for going out of one business into another. I believe I'm honest, monsieur, but, to be outspoken, I've had several trades. I've been an itinerant singer, a circus-rider, when I used to vault like Leotard, and dance on a rope like Blondin. Then I got to be a professor of gymnastics, so as to make better use of my talents; and then I was a sergeant fireman at Paris, and assisted at many a big fire. But I quitted France five years ago, and, wishing to taste the sweets of domestic life, took service as a valet here in England. Finding myself out of place, and hearing that Monsieur Phileas Fogg was the most exact and settled gentleman in the United Kingdom, I have come to monsieur in the hope of living with him a tranquil life, and forgetting even the name of Passepartout.

    Passepartout suits me, responded Mr. Fogg. You are well recommended to me; I hear a good report of you. You know my conditions?

    Yes, monsieur.

    Good! What time is it?

    Twenty-two minutes after eleven, returned Passepartout, drawing an enormous silver watch from the depths of his pocket.

    You are too slow, said Mr. Fogg.

    Pardon me, monsieur, it is impossible—

    You are four minutes too slow. No matter; it's enough to mention the error. Now from this moment, twenty-nine minutes after eleven, a.m., this Wednesday, 2nd October, you are in my service.

    Phileas Fogg got up, took his hat in his left hand, put it on his head with an automatic motion, and went off without a word.

    Passepartout heard the street door shut once; it was his new master going out. He heard it shut again; it was his predecessor, James Forster, departing in his turn. Passepartout remained alone in the house in Saville Row.

    CHAPTER II

    IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT IS CONVINCED THAT HE HAS AT LAST FOUND HIS IDEAL

    Faith, muttered Passepartout, somewhat flurried, I've seen people at Madame Tussaud's as lively as my new master!

    Madame Tussaud's people, let it be said, are of wax, and are much visited in London; speech is all that is wanting to make them human.

    During his brief interview with Mr. Fogg, Passepartout had been carefully observing him. He appeared to be a man about forty years of age, with fine, handsome features, and a tall, well-shaped figure; his hair and whiskers were light, his forehead compact and unwrinkled, his face rather pale, his teeth magnificent. His countenance possessed in the highest degree what physiognomists call repose in action, a quality of those who act rather than talk. Calm and phlegmatic, with a clear eye, Mr. Fogg seemed a perfect type of that English composure which Angelica Kauffmann has so skilfully represented on canvas. Seen in the various phases of his daily life, he gave the idea of being perfectly well-balanced, as exactly regulated as a Leroy chronometer. Phileas Fogg was, indeed, exactitude personified, and this was betrayed even in the expression of his very hands and feet; for in men, as well as in animals, the limbs themselves are expressive of the passions.

    He was so exact that he was never in a hurry, was always ready, and was economical alike of his steps and his motions. He never took one step too many, and always went to his destination by the shortest cut; he made no superfluous gestures, and was never seen to be moved or agitated. He was the most deliberate person in the world, yet always reached his destination at the exact moment.

    He lived alone, and, so to speak, outside of every social relation; and as he knew that in this world account must be taken of friction, and that friction retards, he never rubbed against anybody.

    As for Passepartout, he was a true Parisian of Paris. Since he had abandoned his own country for England, taking service as a valet, he had in vain searched for a master after his own heart. Passepartout was by no means one of those pert dunces depicted by Moliere with a bold gaze and a nose held high in the air; he was an honest fellow, with a pleasant face, lips a trifle protruding, soft-mannered and serviceable, with a good round head, such as one likes to see on the shoulders of a friend. His eyes were blue, his complexion rubicund, his figure almost portly and well-built, his body muscular, and his physical powers fully developed by the exercises of his younger days. His brown hair was somewhat tumbled; for, while the ancient sculptors are said to have known eighteen methods of arranging Minerva's tresses, Passepartout was familiar with but one of dressing his own: three strokes of a large-tooth comb completed his toilet.

    It would be rash to predict how Passepartout's lively nature would agree with Mr. Fogg. It was impossible to tell whether the new servant would turn out as absolutely methodical as his master required; experience alone could solve the question. Passepartout had been a sort of vagrant in his early years, and now yearned for repose; but so far he had failed to find it, though he had already served in ten English houses. But he could not take root in any of these; with chagrin, he found his masters invariably whimsical and irregular, constantly running about the country, or on the look-out for adventure. His last master, young Lord Longferry, Member of Parliament, after passing his nights in the Haymarket taverns, was too often brought home in the morning on policemen's shoulders. Passepartout, desirous of respecting the gentleman whom he served, ventured a mild remonstrance on such conduct; which, being ill-received, he took his leave. Hearing that Mr. Phileas Fogg was looking for a servant, and that his life was one of unbroken regularity, that he neither travelled nor stayed from home overnight, he felt sure that this would be the place he was after. He presented himself, and was accepted, as has been seen.

    At half-past eleven, then, Passepartout found himself alone in the house in Saville Row. He began its inspection without delay, scouring it from cellar to garret. So clean, well-arranged, solemn a mansion pleased him; it seemed to him like a snail's shell, lighted and warmed by gas, which sufficed for both these purposes. When Passepartout reached the second story he recognised at once the room which he was to inhabit, and he was well satisfied with it. Electric bells and speaking-tubes afforded communication with the lower stories; while on the mantel stood an electric clock, precisely like that in Mr. Fogg's bedchamber, both beating the same second at the same instant. That's good, that'll do, said Passepartout to himself.

    He suddenly observed, hung over the clock, a card which, upon inspection, proved to be a programme of the daily routine of the house. It comprised all that was required of the servant, from eight in the morning, exactly at which hour Phileas Fogg rose, till half-past eleven, when he left the house for the Reform Club—all the details of service, the tea and toast at twenty-three minutes past eight, the shaving-water at thirty-seven minutes past nine, and the toilet at twenty minutes before ten. Everything was regulated and foreseen that was to be done from half-past eleven a.m. till midnight, the hour at which the methodical gentleman retired.

    Mr. Fogg's wardrobe was amply supplied and in the best taste. Each pair of trousers, coat, and vest bore a number, indicating the time of year and season at which they were in turn to be laid out for wearing; and the same system was applied to the master's shoes. In short, the house in Saville Row, which must have been a very temple of disorder and unrest under the illustrious but dissipated Sheridan, was cosiness, comfort, and method idealised. There was no study, nor were there books, which would have been quite useless to Mr. Fogg; for at the Reform two libraries, one of general literature and the other of law and politics, were at his service. A moderate-sized safe stood in his bedroom, constructed so as to defy fire as well as burglars; but Passepartout found neither arms nor hunting weapons anywhere; everything betrayed the most tranquil and peaceable habits.

    Having scrutinised the house from top to bottom, he rubbed his hands, a broad smile overspread his features, and he said joyfully, This is just what I wanted! Ah, we shall get on together, Mr. Fogg and I! What a domestic and regular gentleman! A real machine; well, I don't mind serving a machine.

    CHAPTER III

    IN WHICH A CONVERSATION TAKES PLACE WHICH SEEMS LIKELY TO COST PHILEAS FOGG DEAR

    Phileas Fogg, having shut the door of his house at half-past eleven, and having put his right foot before his left five hundred and seventy-five times, and his left foot before his right five hundred and seventy-six times, reached the Reform Club, an imposing edifice in Pall Mall, which could not have cost less than three millions. He repaired at once to the dining-room, the nine windows of which open upon a tasteful garden, where the trees were already gilded with an autumn colouring; and took his place at the habitual table, the cover of which had already been laid for him. His breakfast consisted of a side-dish, a broiled fish with Reading sauce, a scarlet slice of roast beef garnished with mushrooms, a rhubarb and gooseberry tart, and a morsel of Cheshire cheese, the whole being washed down with several cups of tea, for which the Reform is famous. He rose at thirteen minutes to one, and directed his steps towards the large hall, a sumptuous apartment adorned with lavishly-framed paintings. A flunkey handed him an uncut Times, which he proceeded to cut with a skill which betrayed familiarity with this delicate operation. The perusal of this paper absorbed Phileas Fogg until a quarter before four, whilst the Standard, his next task, occupied him till the dinner hour. Dinner passed as breakfast had done, and Mr. Fogg re-appeared in the reading-room and sat down to the Pall Mall at twenty minutes before six. Half an hour later several members of the Reform came in and drew up to the fireplace, where a coal fire was steadily burning. They were Mr. Fogg's usual partners at whist: Andrew Stuart, an engineer; John Sullivan and Samuel Fallentin, bankers; Thomas Flanagan, a brewer; and Gauthier Ralph, one of the Directors of the Bank of England—all rich and highly respectable personages, even in a club which comprises the princes of English trade and finance.

    Well, Ralph, said Thomas Flanagan, what about that robbery?

    Oh, replied Stuart, the Bank will lose the money.

    On the contrary, broke in Ralph, I hope we may put our hands on the robber. Skilful detectives have been sent to all the principal ports of America and the Continent, and he'll be a clever fellow if he slips through their fingers.

    But have you got the robber's description? asked Stuart.

    In the first place, he is no robber at all, returned Ralph, positively.

    What! a fellow who makes off with fifty-five thousand pounds, no robber?

    No.

    Perhaps he's a manufacturer, then.

    The Daily Telegraph says that he is a gentleman.

    It was Phileas Fogg, whose head now emerged from behind his newspapers, who made this remark. He bowed to his friends, and entered into the conversation. The affair which formed its subject, and which was town talk, had occurred three days before at the Bank of England. A package of banknotes, to the value of fifty-five thousand pounds, had been taken from the principal cashier's table, that functionary being at the moment engaged in registering the receipt of three shillings and sixpence. Of course, he could not have his eyes everywhere. Let it be observed that the Bank of England reposes a touching confidence in the honesty of the public. There are neither guards nor gratings to protect its treasures; gold, silver, banknotes are freely exposed, at the mercy

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