orrect last proofs of the French edition of _Les
Chatiments_ which will appear on Tuesday. Dr. Emile Allix brought me
a Prussian cannon-ball which he had picked up behind a barricade, near
Montrouge, where it had just killed two horses. The cannon-ball weighs
25 pounds. Georges, in playing with it, pinched his fingers under it,
which made him cry a good deal.

To-day is the anniversary of Jena!

October 16.--There is no more butter. There is no more cheese. Very
little milk is left, and eggs are nearly all gone.

The report that my name has been given to the Boulevard Haussmann is
confirmed. I have not been to see it for myself.

October 17.--To-morrow a postal balloon named the "Victor Hugo" is to be
sent up in the Place de la Concorde. I am sending a letter to London by
this balloon.

October 18.--I have paid a visit to Les Feuillantines. The house and
garden of my boyhood have disappeared.

A street now passes over the site.

October 19.--Louis Blanc came to dine with me. He brought a declaration
by ex-Representatives for me to sign. I said that I would not sign it
unless it were drawn up in a different manner.

October 20.--Visit from the Gens de Lettres committee. To-day the first
postage stamps of the Republic of 1870 were put in circulation.

_Les Chatiments_ (French edition) appeared in Paris this morning.

The papers announce that the balloon "Victor Hugo" descended in Belgium.
It is the first postal balloon to cross the frontier.

October 21.-They say that Alexandre Dumas died on October 13 at the home
of his son at Havre. He was a large-hearted man of great talent. His
death grieves me greatly.

Louis Blanc and Brives came to speak to me again about the Declaration
of Representatives. My opinion is that it would be better to postpone
it.

Nothing is more charming than the sounding of the reveille in Paris. It
is dawn. One hears first, nearby, a roll of drums, followed by the blast
of a bugle, exquisite melody, winged and warlike. Then all is still.
In twenty seconds the drums roll again, then the bugle rings out, but
further off. Then silence once more. An instant later, further off
still, the same song of bugle and drum falls more faintly but still
distinctly upon the ear. Then after a pause the roll and blast are
repeated, very far away. Then they are heard again, at the extremity of
the horizon, but indistinctly and like an echo. Day breaks and the shout
"To arms!" i