ve lost their fat, rosy cheeks. But let even a local
success crown our arms, let the _communique_ bring a little bit of real
news, tell of fresh laurels won, let even the faintest ray of hope for
the great final triumph pierce this veil of anxiety--and every heart
beat quickens, the smiles burst forth; lips tremble with emotion.
These people know the price, and the privilege of being French, the
glory of belonging to that holy nation.

V

When after a lengthy search our friends finally discover our Parisian
residence, one of the first questions they put is, "Why on earth is
your street so narrow?"

The reason is very simple. Merely because la rue Geoffrey L'Asnier was
built before carriages were invented, the man who gave it its name
having doubtless dwelt there during the fourteenth or fifteenth
century, as one could easily infer after inspecting the choir of our
parish church. But last Good Friday, the Germans in trying out their
super-cannon, bombarded St. Gervais. The roof caved in, killing and
wounding many innocent persons, and completely destroying that choir.

Elsewhere a panic might have ensued, but residents of our quarter are
not so easily disturbed. The older persons distinctly recall the
burning of the Hotel de Ville and the Archbishop's Palace in 1870. And
did they not witness the battles in the streets, all the horrors of the
Commune, after having experienced the agonies and privations of the
Siege? I have no doubt that among them there are persons who were
actually reduced to eating rats, and I feel quite certain that many a
man used his gun to advantage from between the shutters of his own
front window.

Their fathers had seen the barricades of 1848 and 1830, their
grandfathers before them the Reign of Terror--and so on one might
continue as far back as the Norman invasion.

The little cafe on the rue du Pont Louis-Philippe serves as meeting
place for all the prophets and strategists of the quarter, who have no
words sufficient to express their disdain for the Kaiser's heavy
artillery.

"It's all bluff, they think they can frighten us! Why, I, Madame, I
who am speaking to you--I saw the Hotel de Ville, the Theatre des
Nations, the grain elevators, all in flames and all at once, the whole
city seemed to be ablaze. Well, do you think that prevented the
Parisians from fishing in the Seine, or made this cafe shut its doors?
There was a barricade at either end of this street--the blin