taxis, each one driven by a sapper with another
sapper in the footman's place, while one or two officers sit calmly
behind, trying to smoke cigarettes in spite of the wind.

There are persistent rumors throughout Paris of battles "near Metz" or
"on the borders of Luxembourg," of "two hundred and thirty thousand
French troops already in Alsace," "ten thousand French killed at
Belfort," or "forty thousand German prisoners taken."

The papers already announce a series of German depredations across the
border into the ten kilometer strip of country between it and the
French armies. It is reported that German foragers are infesting this
strip, carrying off everything of value. Yesterday morning the papers
printed the first "war story," which recounts how a patrol of Uhlans
penetrating some ten kilometers into French territory were halted by a
French sentinel, a soldier nineteen years old. The German in command,
thinking the sentinel was alone, shot him through the head and was
himself in turn immediately shot dead by the boy's comrades, who had
been hidden near by in an improvised guard-house. The papers also
announced that the president of the League of French Patriots in
Alsace had been arrested and shot. These stories and others like them,
coupled with the official report of the violation of Luxembourg and of
the sending of a German ultimatum to Belgium, have intensely excited
the French.

Until yesterday the people of Paris have been forbearing with such
German subjects as are in the city. When these stories began to
circulate certain elements of the population took prompt and drastic
action against the German-owned shops of the city. During the day many
such shops have been wrecked. The milk trust of Paris which sells "le
Bon Lait Maggi" is popularly supposed to be owned by German capital.
Its shops are in every quarter of the city, one might almost say on
every street. They have today been the first objects of attack. One of
these shops is in the Rue ----, not far from my apartment. I saw it
wrecked this afternoon. There was no excitement, no hurry, no
shouting. A crowd collected, apparently without concerted action, but
as if by common impulse. There was no prearrangement or system about
it and no "French" excitement. Most of the raiders were women. There
was some jesting, and some dry wit, but mostly it was serious
business.

The work of wrecking was carried forward painstakingly and thoroughly.
The iron screen