I hope his bread will be better than his articles.
1.30 P.M.
Been sitting with a friend who commands a company of National Guards.
The company is now outside the fortifications.

Friend tells me that the men in his company are mostly small shopkeepers.

At first it was difficult to get them to come to drill, but within the last few days they have been drilling hard, and he is convinced that they will fight well.

Friend tells me that a large number of National Guards have run away from Paris, and that those who remain are very indignant with them.
He requests me to beg my countrymen, if they see a sturdy Monsieur swelling it down Regent Street, to kick him, as he ought to be defending his country.

I fulfil his request with the greatest pleasure and endorse it.