I have not been so fortunate.

I have charged the _barrieres_ three times, and each time have had to retire discomfited.

My friends describe the soldiers of the line in the front as utterly despising their allies the Mobiles.

They camp out without tents, in order to be ready at any moment to resist an attack.
_October 7th._ Paris would hardly be recognised under its present aspect by those citizens of the Far West who are in the habit of regarding it as a place where good Americans go when they die.

In the garden of the Tuileries, where _bonnes_ used to flirt with guardsmen, there is an artillery camp.
The guns, the pickets of horses, the tents, the camp-fires, and the soldiers in their shirt-sleeves, have a picturesque effect under the great trees.