, blowing
distressingly through hollow ox-horns. Altogether, the spirit of
nonsense which animated the crowd, displayed itself very amusingly.

A few mounted guards led the procession, followed by a band of music.
Then appeared Roman lictors and officers of sacrifice, leading
Dagobert, the famous bull of Normandy, destined to the honor of being
slaughtered as the Carnival beef. He trod rather tenderly, finding, no
doubt, a difference between the meadows of Caen and the pavements of
Paris, and I thought he would have been willing to forego his gilded
horns and flowery crown, to get back there again. His weight was said to
be four thousand pounds, and the bills pompously declared that he had no
rival in France, except the elephant in the _Jardin des Plantes_.

After him came the farmer by whom he was raised, and M. Roland, the
butcher of the carnival, followed by a hundred of the same craft,
dressed as cavaliers of the different ages of France. They made a very
showy appearance, although the faded velvet and soiled tinsel of their
mantles were rather too apparent by daylight.

After all these had gone by, came an enormous triumphal car, very
profusely covered with gilding and ornamental flowers. A fellow with
long woollen hair and beard, intended to represent Time, acted as
driver. In the car, under a gilded canopy, reposed a number of persons,
in blue silk smocks and yellow "fleshtights," said to be Venus, Apollo,
the Graces, &c. but I endeavored in vain to distinguish one divinity
from another. However, three children on the back seat, dressed in the
same style, with the addition of long flaxy ringlets, made very passable
Cupids. This closed the march; which passed onward towards the Place de
la Concorde, accompanied by the sounds of music and the shouts of the
mob. The broad, splendid line of Boulevards, which describe a
semi-circle around the heart of the city, were crowded, and for the
whole distance of three miles, it required no slight labor to make one's
way. People in masks and fancy costumes were continually passing and
re-passing, and I detected in more than one of the carriages, checks
rather too fair to suit the slouched hunter's hats which shaded them. It
seemed as if all Paris was taking a holiday, and resolved to make the
most of it.

CHAPTER XLVI.

A GLIMPSE OF NORMANDY.

After a residence of five weeks, which, in spite of some few troubles,
passed away quickly and delightfully, I turned my