The people of the "Terres Rouges"—a remote quarter of Morny—persuaded that the Prussians were approaching, made a great slaughter of their plumpest pigs and poultry, and devoured them hastily. "It is so much gained," they wisely thought. What a droll idea! Hilarity.
But ... and this seemed odd. The ladies of the Red Cross, leaving the wounded in the lurch, scampered away last night. Shame upon them! Surely the strait-laced nurses would never be guilty of indiscretion, and yet they commit strange blunders. Reprobation.
The staff is established in Laon. Ah! Ah! That is worthy of note. It will be interesting to see the town in its new aspect of headquarters. Interest.
And here are the newspapers a neighbour has brought straight from Paris! Change of Ministry. Formation of a Ministry of National Defence. Oh! Oh! This is somewhat curious. They are hiding things from us. Anxiety.
While the village was busy in discussion, time went on, and the Belgian army also. About seven, the boys that stood sentry over the road came on shouting:
"Here they are! Here they are!"
They were coming indeed, white with dust, but still gallant-looking. First came lancers, then gunners, a few foot-soldiers, and again lancers. Here and there a spiked helmet topped a lance's point as a trophy, and the gunners, along with their guns, dragged a canteen carried off from the enemy. For three hours they went at a gallop, and for three hours we shouted our throats sore, and the whole village with us:
"Bravo! Long life to Belgium! Success to the brave!"
The soldiers, still galloping, answered at the top of their voice:
"Vive France! Down with Germany! Hurrah for the French women!"