He placed my cage carefully in a safe corner, and then he stood, watch in hand, while other birds were put in the boat. There were thirty in all. At length the aëronaut took his place; we all cried out au revoir and bon voyage to our plumy friends. I saw To-To's head laid on one side, as if he was examining the situation, and I kissed my hand to him; and, foolish as it may appear to some, prayed for his safety. Then M. Godard having given the signal, our shouts of bon voyage were renewed and joined to those of 'Vive la France!' and with a bound the great machine sprang up out of our sight and was lost in the darkness of the winter evening's sky. What an evening that was in Paris! The Boulevards contained a mass of once more rejoicing citizens; crowds rushed to the barriers, for news of a splendid victory on the banks of the Marne had come in! General Ducrot had repulsed the Prussians; Paris was on the eve of deliverance; France again resumed her normal position of 'the Victorious;' Paris was once more herself. What glorious news we brought back to the little house of Saint-Marcel, with what thankful hearts we retired to rest!

Two days afterwards To-To arrived and perched on a branch of the white acacia, conveying a tiny letter, addressed to our governor, coming from the city of Tours. What a fine voyage To-To had made!

B

CHAPTER XXV.

OUR FRIENDS IN THE FRONT.

UT on our return home we had found an order for 'Citizen Hubert Verfier' to go back to his duty on the ramparts; the

surgeons having notified his wound to be quite healed, and that he was fit for some service. Alas! hundreds and thousands of our brave men were either dead or hors de combat, so that none could be spared who could fire a gun or dig a trench.

Cerise and my father went with my twenty-five francs to the Halles beyond the river for our marketing next morning, and mother and I rose early to get Hubert's things all ready. Our Breton was not in good spirits; the spirits of all our militaires had been fast declining; they had lost confidence in their officers; they had heard of the surrender of Metz; of the hitherto unsuccessful attempts of the Breton

General Kératry, and of Aurelle de Paladines and the army of the Loire, to bring relief to Paris. Everything had been disheartening, and we French require success to keep us up; once our heart fails our hands hang down, our limbs seem to sink beneath Success had come at last to revive us.

us.

'Will Mademoiselle grieve for me if I should not return?' asked Hubert, with a faltering voice, when bidding us adieu.

'Yes, truly, we should all grieve,' I replied; 'but courage, my friend, we will ask the good God to preserve you. Au revoir !'

'You will keep my letter safely for me when it comes from my father, is it not so?'

'Yes, surely,' I replied.

'And now I feel as To-To parting from his LuLu,' he said, with a tear glancing in his eye.

'Go, go where Victory now calls you,' I cried; 'this is a folly. Bon voyage! au revoir !' And then I closed the wicket after him, praying 'Our Father in heaven' to take care of the kind-hearted lad, and to cause the little book of texts which I had hid in his knapsack to do him good. We had found a place where we might get such books, as well as many very pretty tracts, such as the ladies at the Kiosque of the Exposition had given away; and we often kept a few sous from our marketing to purchase some

of them; for mother, finding we were made so happy and docile by our new studies, did not hinder us from doing so.

'How have you fared to-day, little sister?' was my salutation to Cerise on her return, for truly our larder was very empty; and it was evident that instead of helping others, we must soon go ourselves to the nearest mairie where the Government supplies were being distributed. We had still part of a sack of flour, and we were especially thankful for this, for the bread sold by the bakers soon became very bad. It seemed to be composed of chaff and dust and refuse corn ground together, and it was nearly black; besides, it was so coarse and rough that the more delicate persons who ate it found their throats sore from the friction it caused in being swallowed. It was very sad, and no wonder every one who had any religion felt that Paris was undergoing the severe chastisement of the Almighty. For Cerise and myself, we had found out that we had broken God's commandments in every way, and that nothing could do us any good but the blood of that 'Lamb of God who taketh away the sins of the world.'

'What have you found to-day, little sister?' I asked.

'Two rabbits,' she replied, 'a piece of three kilos of horse-flesh for father and Gerold,' whose daily pay

helped us to feed him, 'also a small tin of preserved meat.'

'And for vegetables?'

'Ah! four onions, the whole that Madame Toupet had.'

It was quite a magnificent supply; these rabbits would make us a fricassee with the half of the onions and a little flour, which would last us for several days; and Madame Lacroix, who did not feel so much disgust at uncooked horse flesh, would make some fine soup and bouilli for those of the family who would use it, and the rest was destined to some of our poorest neighbours; the pot of preserved beef was for the poor Madame la Motte Dauphine.

We had now come to the middle of December, and the general sentiment of us Parisians was that our city must soon surrender, for the victory of the Marne had produced no good result for her, although General Trochu declared still he would never surrender her. She was showing a wonderful example of patient fortitude and courage to the world, but what then? she must not commit actual suicide, by starving herself to death.

Mother had set on the rabbits, and I was preparing the onions to add to them and to the soup which Madame Lacroix boiled in the Brunels' kitchen, where M. Brunel kept his only bit of fire now. Pipo