of doing nothing but gossip
till one or two in the morning at cafes.

General Trochu, that complete letter-writer, to-day replies to General
Ducrot, telling him that his proclamation respecting his evasion from
Pont-a-Mousson is most satisfactory.

The military events of this week have been unimportant. The forts have
continued silent, and reconnaissances have been made here and there. The
faubourgs, too, have been quiet. Everything is being done to make the
siege weigh as little upon the population as possible. Thus, for
instance, few lamps are lit in the streets, but the shops and cafes are
still a blaze of light; they close, however, early. Here is rather a
good story; I can vouch for its truth. The Government recently visited
the Tuileries. They were received by the governor, whom they found
established in a suite of apartments. He showed them over the palace,
and then offered them luncheon. They then incidentally asked him who had
nominated him to the post he so ably filled. "Myself," he replied; "just
by the same authority as you nominated yourselves, and no less." There
was heavy firing all through the night in the direction of Vannes.

M. Mottu, the mayor of the 11th arrondissement, who had entered into a
campaign against crucifixes, has been removed. The Government were
"interviewed" last night by the chiefs of thirty battalions of Gardes
Nationales of the 11th arrondissement on the subject. The deputation was
assured that M. Mottu would be reinstated in his mairie if he would
promise to moderate his zeal.

_October 20th._

"The clients of M. Poiret are informed that they can only have one plate
of meat," was the terrible writing which stared me on the wall, when I
went to dine at my favourite bouillon--and, good heavens, what a portion
it was! Not enough for the dinner of a fine lady who has previously
gorged herself at a private luncheon. If meat is, as we are told, so
plentiful that it will last for five weeks more, the mode in which it is
distributed is radically bad. While at a large popular restaurant, where
hundreds of the middle classes dine, each person only gets enough cat or
horse to whet his appetite for more; in the expensive cafes on the
Boulevards, feasts worthy of Lucullus are still served to those who are
ready to part with their money with the proverbial readiness of fools.
Far more practical, my worthy Republicans, would it be to establish
"liberte, egalite, fraternite" in the cook sh