The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1890-05-16
taking the back seat, end sat smiling be

taking the back seat, end sat smiling be-
nignly on the happy lovers.
The coachman turned round and shouted
to them as he ratified his horse over the
broad space in front of the Theatre Francois.
The pavement before the cafes was crowded
with the usual loungers, smoking, talking,
drinking; only the talk and the laughter
was louder than usual, the crowd was denser,
the air was full of electricity.
"a victoryw shouted the driver, looking
round at his fare, and cracking his whip
ferociously; "a great victory! MacMahon
has made mincemeat of those Prussian
dogsw
IA victory, and on our w~edding-dayW ex-
claimed Kathleen joyously; and then the
sweet sensitive face clouded suddenly, and
she said, ''There can be no victory without
soldiers slain. Many hearts of wives and
mothers will be mourning to-day amidst all
this j%oyousness. OGaston, how thankful l
ought to be that you were past the age for
service!
True, dearest, I am better off here than
with the Moblots; but If the National Guard
were called out I should have to shoulder
my musket."
But not to leave Paris" said Kathleen,
nesting closer to him; and there can be no
fighting in Paris"
Heaven forbid! No, love; one or tya
victories, and Prussia will give us whatevt
terms we ask. What can a herd Of HUM
and Vandals do against the fine flowers Of
our army, the heroes of Magenta and So.
ferino, the graybeards of Alma and Al
giers"
They drove along the Rue Vivienne. The
narrow street was all in conmotiOn; people
at the shop-doors, people ut the upper win
dows; a Babel of voices, a shrill uproar of
laughter and exclamation. But in the Place
de la Bourse, and on the boulevard beyond,
the excitement eliminated. 1t was the feve;
of EPSON when the Derby has just been
won-the stir and tumult of Doncaster at
the browning moment of the Leger; and yet
a deeper and stronger fever, for this had
the awfulness of life and death.
Victory, yes; but where? Which of the
armies was it-MacMalon's or Bazaine'sp
Or was it the two armies which had crushed
the Prussian forces between them-which
had met and joined, like two living walls,
deadly, invincible, squeezing out the life of
the enemy?
Every one was asking questions, every
one answering, stating, counter-stating,
denying; but in this tumult of statement
and counter-statement there was adiftlculty
in arriving at any positive fact, except tho
one all-inspiring facs that there had been a
tremendous victory on the French side.
Flags were flying at all the windows-f1ags
produced as if by enchantment; and here
came an open carriage slowly through the
mob-the carriage of a famous opera-singer.
In an instant it was stopped, surrounded by
stood up in her carriage at the entreaty-
nav almost fha cpvnmoni-nf tho rI,hlic tN
sing the "Marseillaise."
The glorious finely-trained voice rolled
out the soul-stirring words, the notes rising
bird-like and clear in the summer air, float
ing up to the summer sky; and then fifty
thousand voices, the deep rough tones OF an
excited populace, burst forth in the chorus,
like human thunder. Impossible to resist
the magnetism OF that passionate patriotism.
The eyes of strong men grew dim, women
sobbed Historically. France, la belle France
she had been in peril perhaps; yes, strong
though she was, there was never war with
out peril; but she was ~safe-safe, trium-
plant, glorious, with her foot upon the
enemy's neck. Alas, to think how the Gallo
cock crew and tapped his wings during that
one wild hour!
The brldal-party pushed their way into
the Restaurant Champeaux. Under the
| glass roof, in the covered flower-garden,
there was such a mob that it was very diff
| cult to get a small table in a corner, and a
waiter who would cease from hurrying to
and fro to take an order from the new
corners. Every one was celebrating the vic
tory with good cheer OF some kind. Cham
payne corks were flying, plates Gathering,
spoons and forks jingling, and everywhere
rose the same din of voices.
Durand and Mortemar contrived, by
strenuous exertions, to secure a bottle Of
champagne and another of bordeaux, q
poulct grds and a Ch~ateaubriand, some
fruit, cheese, salads and the wedding party
breakfasted merrily amidstthe din, squeezed
together in their corner, stifingly hot under
the burning glass roof and in the crowded
a~tmosnhere. But who would not be happy
on a weudlng-day, ana IN the nour or VIC
tory? They sat at the little table for more
than an hour, nearly half of which time had
been wasted in waiting; and when they
went out again it seemed to Durand's keen
eye as il n change had come over the spirit
of the crowd outside. There were only
about half the people, and faces were graver
some faces of business men looking even
perplexed and troubled; voices less loud
no more hats thrown into the air, no more
laughter.
The rest of the bridal-party were too much
absorbed In each other to note this change
in the public temper. The carriages were
waiting to take them to the Buttes Chau-
mont, where it had been decided to spend
the afternoon. They were to 60 back to q
dinner, which Madame Schubert and Rose
had planned between them, in Madame
Schubert's apartment, which was spacious
and splendid i'll the eyes of the dwellers in
Git lie Ceur. Duiand aud Mortemar had
wished to give a dinner at some popular
restaurant-au Moulin Rouge, for instance
but the women had set their faces agains
such extravaganza. Rose argued that it wa.
a sin TO squandcr money on eating ant
drinking. She had heard that at such place.
a %nanoleon was charged for a single dish, {
franc for a pear or a peach; yes, whcl
peaches were to be had for three or foul
sous at the street-corners. So Maman Schu
bert and Rose had held grave consultations
and had gone marketing together or the
eve of the wedding; and now, while the,
we're driving merrily towards the Place d.
la Bastille, the dnube q III PrOUencdLe wa.
simmering slowly on the little charcoa
stove in la Schubert's tiny kitchen. The
petits .fours from the confectioner's in tn,
Rae du BAG were ready in the doll's-houst
larder, and the dinner-table was out with it
fruit and flowers and golden-crnstcd loaye.
OF finest bread, and bottles of ~innocent
Medoc, ready for the feast.
The excitement of the good news pcrvadet
Paris. The Rue ST. Antoine, the Place d,
la Bastille, were alive with idlers. The,
drove by the long dreary Rue de la Roquette
past the prison-walls, away to Menilmcn
tant and Belleville, where the honest harm
less working population, the blue blouse
and white muslin caps, were all astir in the
sunshine-a seething crowd. There was
kind of fair or the Boulevard, Saturday ant
Sunday fair-swings and roundabouts, and
a juggler or two-all merry in the whit.
August dust, under the hot blue sky.
They drove through narrow old streets OF
the top Of the hill-dusty, crowded, un
wholesome, wretched dwellings "a truculen
rabble, blue blouses, white night caps, every
where; queer little wine-shops, queer littl'
eating-houses, an intolerable odor Of pctt
blcuc and dbstnttc suisse, a tumult o
harsh voices-and so TO the wonderful gar
dens. the green valleys and Alpine crags
the blue lakes ana Swiss summer-house
and Grecian temples Of the old, old Quarrie
that have heen Inodei into a plaosnre-Urnuui