CHAPTER XXVI.

THE NEW YEAR.

AD ever such a New Year's day opened on the city of Paris? Our affliction was at its height nearly; hope waned in every heart, and snow and frost filled the atmosphere. For once Paris had ceased to laugh. No crowds of brilliantly dressed persons walked in her gardens to bestow and receive congratulations; no strings of carriages, four abreast, with their purple satin linings, their crimson or blue or white liveried servants, their two or four superb horses, their graceful ladies, their bowing gentlemen, passed along the Champs Elysées or down the Bois de Boulogne ; no splendidly appointed riders cantered along the Avenue de l'Impératrice. No shops sparkled with etrennes, no showers of bon-bons delighted the young. Such scenes Paris used to present to view on New Year's day. What was she become? One

great hospital for the dying, the wounded, the starving from cold and hunger; one great barrack for the abode of military and the manufacture of arms. Sounds of pain and sorrow met the ear on one side; the 'Rappel' and the distant cannonade on the other.

Such was Paris when 1871 dawned upon her. Surely her sins had brought her to shame, and she had not sought after that righteousness which exalteth a nation. Poor Paris! beautiful Paris!

At an early hour on that morning I was awaked by a tapping on the glass of one of the windows of the salon, and a gentle cooing; at the same time Lu-Lu began to flutter about her cage. I jumped out of bed and ran to the window. Yes, there was To-To,—her faithful mate come back to her.

'Oh my Emile!' I cried in my heart, 'if thou hadst but returned to thy poor Aurée!'

I opened the sash and lifted my pigeon in my hands; he trembled with fatigue; I kissed him; I pressed him to my heart. I used not to love pigeons, nor do I love these birds in general; but these were Emile's present, which was quite another thing. Then, not wishing to raise the jealousy of Lu-Lu, I opened the cage door, and admitted him. Ah, greedy, unromantic fellow! he flew straight to the fountain and drank, and then regaled himself at the seed drawers, before he took the slightest notice of his

mate, who sat looking on patiently. Having lighted a bougie I observed that he had a little glass tube fastened under his tail; I untied it, and taking out of it a small roll of thin paper, I saw that it was a note addressed to M. Jules Favre. My little bird had become quite a member of the diplomatic world, thus carrying State papers to the governors of Paris. I called Cerise to get up and dress herself, for we must carry this letter at once to M. Rampont.

With what joy I received my twenty-five francs, and also a request to send my other pigeon in the next balloon. Yes, truly, Madame Lu-Lu must exert herself and pay for her livelihood; she was as strong as her little husband, and she ought to enjoy a voyage in the free air after her long confinement to the cage.

With what pleasure, notwithstanding the falling snow, we took our etrennes to the la Mottes. Mother gave us an old but warm shawl for Jacqueline's mother, and we had again a tin of preserved meat, and the price of a good bundle of wood to bring her. How content we were. We had also a small bunch of sweet violets for Jacqueline. She had brought to us the bread of life; how small was our return; but it was all we had to give, and we had the satisfaction of seeing that our little gifts brought real help to our poor friends. The rest of To-To's earnings were thankfully given to mother to buy comforts for our

dying brother,-for Désiré was sinking in a rapid decline.

It was no easy matter to procure these comforts, for now truly Paris was reduced to boucheries of cats and dogs; and we had to keep Pipo tied to his kennel, and a close watch upon Mignon. True, there were delicacies to be had still at M. Debos' on the Boulevard Haussman. Of this the Lavrois informed us. This amiable family had now come to reside near us, for a shell had entered their abode and dashed its roof in, breaking all their furniture to pieces.

First our fine Spanish cock and then our two remaining hens had been killed, and made into soup for our invalid and grand'mère; and now there was no other meat except horse-flesh to be found at the Halles. But the balloon post was to go out, and LuLu must earn money to buy some of M. Debos' dainties.

'What is it that they sell there?' Clémence asked of Elize Lavrois.

'Oh! trunk of elephant; it is a great delicacy; and head of tiger, besides bodies of monkeys,' said Elize. 'Ah, disgusting! worse than dogs; what then?'

Eh, I don't know; there was bear, but the English have devoured it all.'

'Very likely,' said Clémence; although it was only a case of brother devouring brother.'

'They have also had a grand dinner yesterday on le jour de l'an,' said Elize, laughing. They roasted our best wolf from the Jardin, and regaled themselves therewith.'

'I can well believe it,' said Cerise; 'what stomachs they have, these English!'

I was too angry and hurt with my former friends, the English, notwithstanding their liberality to our starving people, to take their part now. How was it that England allowed us, her old allies, to suffer thus ? How could a Christian nation, as I understood her to be, stand by and see so religious a man as Father William, and so near a relative of her own as Fritz, continue this cruel war? Why did she not even remonstrate with them? Why not come to our help? And why did this King of Prussia pray for God to help him to destroy us; to murder such thousands of poor sinners? I became more and more puzzled as I thought on these things, and wished I could ask that charming pastor, who had brought Désiré home, all about it. Just then I read a verse in our St. John, which said to me, 'What is that to thee? Follow thou me.'

But to return to the subject of food, which was now becoming almost absorbing to us, even more interesting than the bursting of those gamins, as we called the shells of the Prussians. The delicacy to be pro