the kilo.
_Figaro_ yesterday published a "correspondence from Orleans." The _Official Gazette_ of this morning publishes an official note from the Prefect of Police stating that this correspondence is "a lie, such as those which the _Figaro_ invents every day." _Afternoon._ I have just returned from the Place de l'Hotel de Ville.

When I got there at about two o'clock six or seven thousand manifesters had already congregated there.

They were all, as is the nature of Frenchmen in a crowd, shouting their political opinions into their neighbours' ears.
Almost all of them were Nationaux from the Faubourgs, and although they were not armed, they wore a kepi, or some other distinctive military badge.

As well as I could judge, nine out of ten were working men.

Their object, as a sharp, wiry artizan bellowed into my ear, was to force the Government to consent to the election of a Commune, in order that the Chassepots may be more fairly distributed between the bourgeois and the ouvriers, and that Paris shall no longer render itself ridiculous by waiting within its walls until its provisions are exhausted and it is forced to capitulate.