"Madame," said the little one, raising his head with a look that was
grand, immense, "We wrote them ourselves, all night." Tears filled my
eyes; I had a presentiment they were tears of deliverance. So, while
we knew the Uhlans were in Chantilly, while in the hearts of the
grown-up people horror placed its claws on faith, on hope, there was a
little child with immense blue eyes, who knew nothing, like the good
shepherds, St. Genevieve and Joan of Arc, but who knew that "France was
invincible" and who passed the night writing it.
Yes, the miracle that saved Paris was revealed to us. But there was
another miracle, something imponderable, which was the soul of the
little boy with his eyes of light--which is the soul of Paris.
Paris ... even during those hours did not lose its sweet disposition
of smiling independence. And it was among the children that we
found the most touching proofs. One day--at the hour when the German
aviators were storming Paris with bombs--we called it our _five o'clock
taube_--I went out with a friend near the Park Monceau. All the
passers-by were walking with their noses in the air, as they already
had got the habit of the visits of "the bad pigeons."
One little boy had his bicycle to follow the flight, another a pair
of opera glasses. But look around in the sky as I might, I could see
nothing. Then a little boy, this one about six or seven years old,
pulled my coat. "Straight up, madame; straight up, over my head!"
That's how they frightened our little kiddies!
The next day I was passing through a thickly populated neighbourhood
over which they had been flying for an hour. Suddenly a child bolted
out of a house as fast as it could go. But his mother caught him and
administered two resounding slaps. "I told you to stay in the house."
"Ah," protested the urchin, "ye don't only keep me from seein' de tobe,
but cher lick me in der bargain."
These are trifles, will perhaps be said. Do you think so? Nothing is
small that reveals the immortal soul of a people. And we found it so
everywhere. Don't lose patience with me if I speak without order. My
words resemble the days I am living. They have a unity, however, as
from them always shines forth the trials, the smiles, the bravery of my
country.