I saw to-day a company of mounted National Guards exercising.
Their uniforms were exquisitely clean, but I asked myself of what earthly use they were.

Their commander ordered them to charge, when every horse butted against the one next to him.

I believe a heavy gale of wind would have disconnected all these warriors from their chargers.
I fully recognise the fact that the leaders of the ouvriers talk a great deal of nonsense, and that they are actuated as much by personal ambition as by patriotism; but it is certain that the individual working man is the only reality in this population of corrupt and emasculated humbugs; everyone else is a windbag and a sham.
A decree has been issued, informing all who have no means of subsistence that they will receive a certain amount of bread per diem upon application at their respective mairies.

We are also told that if we wish to make puddings of the blood of oxen, we must mix pigs' blood with it, otherwise it will be unwholesome.
It has been showery to-day, and I never have witnessed a more dismal Sunday in Paris.

A pigeon from.