t the stalwart sons of England rushed on!--Down went
plume and cocked-hat, down went corporal and captain, down went grocer
and tailor, under the long staves of the indomitable English Footmen.
"A Jenkins! a Jenkins!" roared the Duke, planting a blow which broke the
aquiline nose of Major Arago, the celebrated astronomer. "St. George for
Mayfair!" shouted his followers, strewing the plain with carcasses. Not
a man of the Guard escaped; they fell like grass before the mower.

"They are gallant troops, those yellow-plushed Anglais," said the Duke
of Nemours, surveying them with his opera-glass. "'Tis a pity they will
all be cut up in half an hour. Concombre! take your dragoons, and do
it!" "Remember Waterloo, boys!" said Colonel Concombre, twirling his
moustache, and a thousand sabres flashed in the sun, and the gallant
hussars prepared to attack the Englishmen.

Jenkins, his gigantic form leaning on his staff, and surveying the havoc
of the field, was instantly aware of the enemy's manoeuvre. His people
were employed rifling the pockets of the National Guard, and had made a
tolerable booty, when the great Duke, taking a bell out of his pocket,
(it was used for signals in his battalion in place of fife or bugle,)
speedily called his scattered warriors together. "Take the muskets of
the Nationals," said he. They did so. "Form in square, and prepare to
receive cavalry!" By the time Concombre's regiment arrived, he found a
square of bristling bayonets with Britons behind them!

The Colonel did not care to attempt to break that tremendous body.
"Halt!" said he to his men.

"Fire!" screamed Jenkins, with eagle swiftness; but the guns of the
National Guard not being loaded, did not in consequence go off. The
hussars gave a jeer of derision, but nevertheless did not return to the
attack, and seeing some of the Legitimist cavalry at hand, prepared to
charge upon them.

The fate of those carpet warriors was soon decided. The Millefleur
regiment broke before Concombre's hussars instantaneously; the
Eau-de-Rose dragoons stuck spurs into their blood horses, and galloped
far out of reach of the opposing cavalry; the Eau-de-Cologne lancers
fainted to a man, and the regiment of Concombre, pursuing its course,
had actually reached the Prince and his aides-de-camp, when the
clergymen coming up formed gallantly round the oriflamme, and the
bassoons and serpents braying again, set up such a shout of canticles,
and anathemas, and excomm