n
quadruple rows wherever he passed, as English, French, and foreign
voices sang a benediction to Britain's King. History was made there.

That night Gen. French dined at the Ritz among a few friends. Even the
newspapers seemed not to know it, and those of us who had the good
chance to be there enjoyed him at leisure. He wore his field uniform of
khaki in strong contrast to the French Generals, who are always in
glittering gold, although he represents an empire and they a republic.
He is an admirable looking soldier, somewhat small of stature, firmly
knit, bronzed, white haired, blue eyed, calm. He spoke of their
responsibilities without exaggeration or amelioration. He did not make
light of the task before his soldiers, and his grave manner seemed a
prophecy of that terrible fight near Mons, above the French frontier,
which was so soon to take place and where English blood was freely
spilled for France's sake.

Another day that we shall be glad we saw when it is written into the
narrative history of this Summer by some future Mme. Sevigne, was when
the first German flag arrived. Before it came, two soldiers exhibited a
German frontier post in front of a cafe on the boulevard, which started
the excitement, but the reception of the flag by the Government and its
placement in the Invalides, where is Napoleon's tomb, was an hour of
dramatic tenseness.

The only music heard in Paris since the first day of August, the day of
mobilization, accompanied this flag to its resting place along with
those historic relics of former French victories. The procession went
over the Alexander Bridge, that superb structure dedicated in honor of
the Russian Czar, whose son is now fulfilling his pledge of friendship
to France. The flag was met at the Invalides by the old soldiers who
bore medals of the Franco-Prussian war. In the solemn inclosure, where
all stood at salute, the veterans stood with lances. The flag was
presented to an old sick soldier, who stumped forward on a wooden leg,
his breast covered with the medals of the Crimea and the Italian
campaign. He received it for France, and when it was placed over the
organ, the listening crowds that jammed the Place des Invalides heard
the singing of the "Marseillaise" by the cracked old voices first, then
by the sturdier younger voices, and so it joined in, this vast concourse
of solemn listeners.

France has gone into this war with the spirit of the Crusaders, but the
spirit of Fren