bitterness, that he had been made
to pay for part of all this glorious architecture.

The Cirques Napoleon and de l'Imperatrice--the Republic had not had time
to change their names--had become a kind of left-luggage office for
these human cargoes, taken thither at their arrival, which happened
generally during the night. In the morning they were transferred to
their permanent encampments, and their military education was proceeded
with at once. I am afraid I am not competent to judge of the merits of
the method adopted, but I was by no means powerfully impressed with the
knowledge displayed by the instructors.

The gardens of the Tuileries had been closed to the public, who had to
be satisfied with admiring the ordnance and long rows of horses parked
there from a distance. Did the latter lend enchantment to the view?
Apparently, for they were never tired of gazing with ecstasy on the
mitrailleuses. The gunners in charge treated the foremost of the gazers
now and then to a lecture on artillery practice, through the railings of
the gates. In whatsoever else they had lost faith, those murderous
engines of war evidently still commanded their confidence.

The frightful din that marked the first weeks of the war had ceased, but
Paris did by no means look crestfallen. The gas burned brightly still,
the cafes were full of people, the restaurants had all their tables
occupied; for we were not "invested" yet, and the idea of scarcity, let
alone of famine, though a much-discussed contingency, was not a staring,
stubborn fact. "It will never become one," said and thought many, "and
all that talk about doling out rations already is so much nonsense." The
papers waxed positively comic on the subject. They also waxed comic over
the telegrams of the King of Prussia to his Consort; but they left off
harping on that string, for very shame' sake.

One thing was certain from the beginning of the siege--whatever else
might fail, there was enough wine and to spare to cheer the hearts of
men who professed to do and dare more than men. Though the best part of
my life had been spent in Paris, I had, curiously enough, never seen the
wine and spirit depots at Bercy; in fact, I was profoundly ignorant of
that, as well as of other matters connected with the food-supply of
Paris. So I wrote to a member of the firm which had supplied me for many
years with wine and spirits, and he took me thither.

I should think that the "entrepot-general," as i