Every now and then there would be a great clatter of
trotting-horses and jingling sabres, when an escort of dragoons would
pass, escorting some foreign prince to the Elysee to pay his formal
visit to the marshal. Everybody looked gay--French people so dearly love
a show--and it was amusing to see the interest every one took in the
steady stream of people, from the fashionable woman driving to the Bois
in her victoria to the workmen, who would stand in groups on the corners
of the streets--some of them occasionally with a child on their
shoulders. Frenchmen of all classes are good to children. On a Sunday or
fete day, when whole families are coming in from a day at the Bois, one
often sees a young husband wheeling a baby-carriage, or carrying a baby
in his arms to let the poor mother have a rest. It was curious at the
end of the exposition to see how quickly everything was removed (many
things had been sold); and in a few days the Champ de Mars took again
the same aspect it had at the beginning of the month of May--heavy carts
and camions everywhere, oceans of mud, lines of black holes where trees
and poles had been planted, and the same groups of small shivering
Southerners, all huddled together, wrapped in wonderful cloaks and
blankets, quite paralysed with cold.
Pages:
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195