over the show-window was torn off and broken up and
the window itself was smashed to bits, the door was broken open, every
bit of glass or crockery was shivered to fragments against the
sidewalk and the pieces were ground into powder under the heels of the
raiders. Account books and bill-heads were torn sheet by sheet into
the tiniest bits and strewn up and down the street for a block, and
all woodwork was smashed into kindling. During the operations a
patrol of policemen on bicycles went tearing by. They must have been
on business of great and immediate importance since they had no time
to stop nor to look either to the right or left. When the wrecking
operations were quite completed another patrol came by. The sergeant
in command dismounted. He wore a tremendous frown and with an
authoritative sweep of his arm cried: "Qu'est ce que vous faites?
Allez! Allez vous en! vous savez bien que nous sommes maintenant sous
la loi militaire, et que c'est defendu de s'attrouper dans les rues!
Allez! Allez!" ("What are you doing? Move along, get out of here! You
know that we are now under martial law and that it is forbidden to
collect in crowds in the streets. Move on, move on!").

The crowd instantly dispersed, wearing faces of great solemnity. It is
evident that he could not possibly have arrested the wreckers, for he
had himself seen nothing and it is not to be supposed that they would
have been witnesses against one another.

By night time there were many shops, factories, and cafes of German
ownership which had thus been raided. The crowds did not always
take time to make careful investigation before breaking up an
establishment. I shall never forget the plight of the French
proprietor of a cafe on the Place de l'Opera who was standing in
front of his completely wrecked shop using all the most eloquent
French gestures, as he repeated over and over in helpless rage:
"Sacre nom d'un nom, je suis caporal du cent-dixieme de reserve et
je pars au front apres demain!" ("Sacred Name, I am Corporal of
the 110th Reserve and I leave for the front the day after tomorrow.")

Last evening I repeatedly heard the following conversation between
Frenchmen, wherever they met:

1st Frenchman: "Est-ce qu'on va boire du 'Bon Lait Maggi,'
ce soir?"

2d Frenchman (with the solemnity of an owl): "Non,
Monsieur!"

This formula of question and reply had travelled all over the city and
was repeated time after time with alwa