d smiling, as of revellers on a holiday
of peace. Among these defenders of their country, at the door of
a crowded cafe, stands Frederic Lemercier, superb in the costume,
bran-new, of a National Guard,--his dog Fox tranquilly reposing on its
haunches, with eyes fixed upon its fellow-dog philosophically musing on
the edge of Punch's show, whose master is engaged in the conquest of the
Bismarck fiend.

"Lemercier," cried the Vicomte de Breze, approaching the cafe, "I
scarcely recognise you in that martial guise. You look magnifique--the
galons become you. Peste! an officer already?"

"The National Guards and Mobiles are permitted to choose their own
officers, as you are aware. I have been elected, but to subaltern grade,
by the warlike patriots of my department. Enguerrand de Vandemar is
elected a captain of the Mobiles in his, and Victor de Mauleon is
appointed to the command of a battalion of the National Guards. But I
soar above jealousy at such a moment,--

"'Rome a choisi mon bras; je n'examine rien.'"

"You have no right to be jealous. De Mauldon has had experience and won
distinction in actual service, and from all I hear is doing wonders with
his men--has got them not only to keep but to love drill. I heard no
less an authority than General V---- say that if all the officers of the
National Guard were like De Mauleon, that body would give an example of
discipline to the line."

"I say nothing as to the promotion of a real soldier like the
Vicomte--but a Parisian dandy like Euguerrand de Vande--"

"You forget that Enguerrand received a military education--an advantage
denied to you."

"What does that matter? Who cares for education nowadays? Besides, have
I not been training ever since the 4th of September, to say nothing of
the hard work on the ramparts?"

"Parlez moi de cela it is indeed hard work on the ramparts. Infandum
dolorem quorum pars magna fui. Take the day duty. What with rising at
seven o'clock, and being drilled between a middle-aged and corpulent
grocer on one side and a meagre beardless barber's apprentice on the
other; what with going to the bastions at eleven, and seeing half one's
companions drunk before twelve; what with trying to keep their fists
off one's face when one politely asks them not to call one's general a
traitor or a poltroon,--the work of the ramparts would be insupportable,
if I did not take a pack of cards with me, and enjoy a quiet rubber
with three other heroe