nhabitants continued to smile
politely, but grimly. Here and there dead bodies were lying in the road.
A man who was pushing a truck allowed one of the wheels to pass over a
corpse that was lying with its head on the curbstone. "Bah!" said he,
"it won't do him any harm." The dead and wounded were, however, being
carried away as quickly as possible.

[Illustration: SHELL HOLE--A CONVENIENT SEAT.]

[Illustration: IN THE RUES.]

[Illustration: SHOT MARKS--EN PROFIL.]

[Illustration: ON THE BOULEVARDS]

[Illustration: PLUS DE LUMIERE!!]

[Illustration: PLUS D'OMBRE!]

[Illustration: BULLET HOLE--EN FACE]

The cannon had now ceased roaring, and the fight was still going on
close at hand--at the Tuileries doubtless. The townspeople were tranquil
and the soldiery disdainful. A strange contrast; all these good citizens
smiling and chatting, and the soldiers, who had come to save them at the
peril of their lives, looking down upon them with the most careless
indifference. My friend reached the Boulevard Haussmann; there the
corpses were in large numbers. He counted thirty in less than a hundred
yards. Some were lying under the doorways; a dead woman was seated on
the bottom stair of one of the houses. Near the church of "La Trinite"
were two guns, the reports from which were deafening; several of the
shells fell on a bathing establishment in the Rue Taitbout opposite the
Boulevard. On the Boulevard itself, not a person was to be seen. Here
and there dark masses, corpses doubtless. However, the moment the noise
of the report of a gun had died away, and while the gunners were
reloading, heads were thrust out from doors to see what damage had been
done--to count the number of trees broken, benches torn up, and kiosques
overturned. From some of the windows rifles were fired. My friend then
reached the street he lived in and went home. He was told that during
the morning they had violently bombarded the College Chaptal, where the
Zouaves of the Commune had fortified themselves; but the engagement was
not a long one, they made several prisoners and shot the rest.

My friend shut himself up at home, determined not to go out. But his
impatience to see and hear what was going on forced him into the streets
again. The Pepiniere barracks were occupied by troops of the line; he
was able to get to the New Opera without trouble, leaving the Madeleine,
where dreadful fighting was going on, to the right. On the way were to
be seen pi