splendid sight: the mob in front chanting the "Marseilllaise," the national war hymn, grave and powerful, sweetened by the night air-—though night in these splendid streets was turned into day, every window was filled with lamps, dim torches were tossing in the crowd … for Guizot has late this night given in his resignation, and this was an improvised illumination,
'I and my father had turned with the crowd, and were close behind the second troop of vagabonds, Joy was on every face. I remarked to papa that "I would not have missed the scene for anything, I might never see such a splendid one," when plong went one shot—every face went pale—r-r-r-r-r went the whole detachment, [and] the whole crowd of gentlemen and ladies turned and cut, Such a scene!—ladies, gentlemen, and vagabonds went sprawling in the mud, not shot but tripped up; and those that went down could not rise, they were trampled over. … I ran a short time straight on and did not fall, then turned down a side street, ran fifty yards and felt tolerably safe; looked for papa, did not see him; so walked on quickly, giving the news as I went.' [It appears, from another
