“ ‘ —— De mes propres yeux vu
Le qu’on appelle vu.’
“The need that men have for sport is so pressing, that in the absence of other game they take to shooting each other.”
“It is dreadful to think of the depravity of human nature,” the Magpie replied. “I am positively obliged to hide myself towards evening, to escape the last shot of some passing sportsman, whose only reason for not firing at a magpie would be to save his gunpowder. In all probability, the wretch who might bring me down would not think even me good enough to eat.”
“What is still more singular,” said my friend, “is that men glory in this butchery, and a great ‘bag,’ filled with victims, is considered something to be proud of. I shall not weary you with the full history of the Revolution of July, although many details remain unrecorded. A Hare, although a lover of freedom, would hardly be accepted as an historian.”
“What is a revolution of July?” inquired the little Hare, who, like all children, only listened now and then when any word struck him.
“Will you be quiet?” said his brother; “grandfather has just told us that it is a time when every one is frightened.”
“I shall content myself by telling you that the struggle continued three whole days. My ears were torn with the mingled noise of drums, cannon, the whistle of the bullets, and the sound of fierce strife, that filled Paris like the breaking of angry waves on a rocky shore.
“While the people fought and barricaded the streets, the Court was at St. Cloud. As for ourselves, we passed a fearful night at the Tuileries. Our terror seemed to prolong the darkness. When the dawn came at last, the firing was renewed, and I heard that the Hôtel de Ville had been taken and retaken. I no doubt would have felt grieved at all this had I been able to go away like the Court, but that was not to be thought of. On the morning of the 29th a dreadful tumult was heard under the windows, followed by the booming of cannon, and dull crash of iron balls. ‘It is finished, the Louvre is taken,’ cried my master; and clasping the little girl in his arms, he disappeared. It was then eleven o’clock. When they had gone, I realised that I was alone and helpless, but then it occurred to me, there being no one here, I have no enemies, and my courage rose with the reflection. The men outside might kill each other, and thus expend their ammunition as fast as they chose—so much the worse for men, and the better for Hares.
