The Reserves were donning their old uniforms which presented all the difficulties of suits long ago forgotten.

With new leather belts and their revolvers at their sides, they were betaking themselves to the railway which was to carry them to the point of concentration.

One of their children was carrying the old sword in its cloth sheath.

The wife was hanging on his arm, sad and proud at the same time, giving her last counsels in a loving whisper.
Street cars, automobiles and cabs rolled by with crazy velocity.

Nobody had ever seen so many vehicles in the Paris streets, yet if anybody needed one, he called in vain to the conductors, for none wished to serve mere civilians.