walks in fairyland, cares fly away, thorns disappear, evil is veiled in this terrestrial paradise.
No wonder the Parisians love their city; no wonder they forget their misfortunes within its walls. What land can boast another like it?
But what a difference immediately succeeding the reign of terror. The houses were all closed; the gas in many quarters unlighted. Here and there on the tables of some of the cafés might be seen the flickering light of a solitary candle. The streets were deserted, and after nine o'clock nothing was heard but the echoing steps of the sentinels who guarded the corners of the streets. Now and then the cry of "Qui vive! Passez au large!" interrupted the silence, as at rare intervals a passer-by was seen. No passenger was allowed to walk at night along the pavements; all were obliged to take the middle of the street, lest some evil-intentioned person should throw petroleum upon the houses, and deliver them as prey to the flames. Often the inhabitants, still uneasy, and not sufficiently reassured by the precautions of the municipalities who had caused all the gratings of the cellars to be stopped up, would sit upon their door-steps until an advanced hour of the night.
It was they who, in such cases, ordered passers-by to take the middle of the street, and it was not prudent to disobey their injunction; any one doing so was instantly suspected, and the cries of the inhabitants soon brought the National Guards from the nearest post, who arrested him forthwith.
It was not until Saturday, June 3d, that trains with passengers were allowed to enter Paris, or that the inhabitants were allowed to leave without a laissez-passer. Up to that time workmen were actively employed in destroying the barricades and in clearing and cleaning from the streets all traces of the horrible contests of which
