s; little plates of tin and iron rolled into sugar-loaves;
crushed brace-buckles; crooked nails and wads of metal wire;--anything,
indeed, that in their extremity they could lay their hands on, and ram
into the muzzle of a gun! These things inflicted fearful gashes, and, in
many cases, a mere flesh-wound turned out a death-stroke. Few that got
hurt in our own troop lived to tell the tale."

A few more days and the whole royal cavalcade was scattered like chaff
before the wind, and Charles the Tenth a fugitive on his way to England;
a few more days and the wily Louis Philippe was taking the oath to a new
constitution, and our friend, Panpan, lay carefully packed, brass button
and all, in the Hotel-Dieu. The brass button was difficult to find, and
when found the ugly fissure it had made grew gangrened, and would not
heal; and thus it happened that many a bed became vacant, and got filled,
and was vacant again, as their occupants either walked out, or were borne
out, of the hospital gates, before Panpan was declared convalescent, and
finally dismissed from the Hotel-Dieu as "cured."

The proud trooper was, however, an altered man; his health and spirits
were gone; the whole corps of which he had so often boasted was broken up
and dispersed; his means of livelihood were at an end, and, what was
worse, he knew of no other in the exercise of which he could gain his
daily bread. There were very many such helpless, tradeless men pacing
the streets of Paris, when the fever of the revolution was cooled down,
and ordinary business ways began to take their course. Nor was it those
alone who were uninstructed in any useful occupation, but there were also
the turbulent, dissatisfied spirits; builders of barricades, and leaders
of club-sections, whom the late excitement, and their temporary elevation
above their fellow workmen, had left restless and ambitious, and whose
awakened energies, if not directed to some useful and congenial
employment, would infallibly lead to mischief.

Panpan chuckled over the fate which awaited some of these ardent youths:
"Ces gaillards la!" he said, "had become too proud and troublesome to be
left long in the streets of Paris; they would have fomented another
revolution; so Louis Philippe, under pretence of rewarding his brave
'soldats laboureurs,' whom he was ready to shake by the hand in the
public streets in the first flush of success, enrolled them in the army,
and sent them to the commanding o