se interest.

Another cross-bearer, behind whom came a gentleman carrying an
instrument like a bedroom candlestick.

His Grandeur Monseigneur Affre, Archbishop of Paris: he was in black and
white, his eyes were cast to the earth, his hands were together at right
angles from his chest: on his hands were black gloves, and on the black
gloves sparkled the sacred episcopal--what do I say?--archiepiscopal
ring. On his head was the mitre. It is unlike the godly coronet that
figures upon the coach-panels of our own Right Reverend Bench. The
Archbishop's mitre may be about a yard high: formed within probably of
consecrated pasteboard, it is without covered by a sort of watered silk
of white and silver. On the two peaks at the top of the mitre are two
very little spangled tassels, that frisk and twinkle about in a very
agreeable manner.

Monseigneur stood opposite to us for some time, when I had the
opportunity to note the above remarkable phenomena. He stood opposite me
for some time, keeping his eyes steadily on the ground, his hands before
him, a small clerical train following after. Why didn't they move? There
was the National Guard keeping on presenting arms, the little drummers
going on rub-dub-dub--rub-dub-dub--in the same steady, slow way, and the
Procession never moved an inch. There was evidently, to use an elegant
phrase, a hitch somewhere.

[Enter a fat priest who bustles up to the drum-major.]

Fat priest--"Taisez-vous."

Little drummer--Rub-dub-dub--rub-dub-dub--rub-dub-dub, &c.

Drum-major--"Qu'est-ce donc?"

Fat priest--"Taisez-vous, dis-je; ce n'est pas le corps. Il n'arrivera
pas--pour une heure."

The little drums were instantly hushed, the procession turned to the
right-about, and walked back to the altar again, the blown-out candle
that had been on the near side of us before was now on the off side,
the National Guards set down their muskets and began at their sandwiches
again. We had to wait an hour and a half at least before the great
procession arrived. The guns without went on booming all the while at
intervals, and as we heard each, the audience gave a kind of "ahahah!"
such as you hear when the rockets go up at Vauxhall.

At last the real Procession came.

Then the drums began to beat as formerly, the Nationals to get under
arms, the clergymen were sent for and went, and presently--yes, there
was the tall cross-bearer at the head of the procession, and they came
BACK!

They chanted some