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The Germans were discussing their war aims; and on the Verdun front they had reached Mort Homme in the usual way, that was, according to the London Press, by sacrificing more men than any place could possibly be worth; still, they had reached Mort Homme.

At every turn in the street, or under the trees of Paris, some queer little episode, some startling figure from the great drama of the war arrested the interest of a wondering spectator. A glimpse of tragedy made one's soul shudder between two smiles at the comedy of life. Tears and laughter chased each other through Paris in this time of war. "Coupe gorge, comme ca. Sale boche, mort.

Peggotty, shaking his head, 'theer's not so much left him, that he could spare the little as he has! 'And Mrs. Gummidge? said I. 'Well, I've had a mort of consideration, I do tell you, returned Mr. Peggotty, with a perplexed look which gradually cleared as he went on, 'concerning of Missis Gummidge.

The little mind took in all this, and smiles began to struggle with the tears: but spasms are like waves, they cannot go down the very moment the wind of trouble is lulled. So Denys thought well to bring up his reserve of consolation "Courage, ma mie, le diable est mort!" cried that inventive warrior gaily. Gerard shrugged his shoulders at such a way of cheering a little girl,

'Come, and welcome, said Rire-pour-tout; 'and not a hair of your beards shall be touched except by me. So the bargain was made for an hour before sunset that night. Mort de Dieu! that was a grand duel!" He dipped his long mustaches again into another beaker of still.

'Casion calls me t'other day to Newcastle! Eh?" "Coals!" ejaculated Speed-the-Plough sonorously. "Coals!" echoed the tinker. "You ask what I goes there for, mayhap? Never you mind. One sees a mort o' life in my trade. Not for coals it isn't. And I don't carry 'em there, neither. Anyhow, I comes back. London's my mark. Says I, I'll see a bit o' the sea, and steps aboard a collier.

There was a confused rushing to and fro, a looking up of the time of trains, hurried searches for missing baggage. And, after much excitement, Andy and his chums found themselves in the same car bound for Dunmore. They settled back in their seats with sighs of relief. "Hear anything more of Mort and his crowd?" asked Tom of Andy. "Not a thing." "I did," spoke Chet.

They were told that it was three incarnate devils from Paris who were making all the disturbance. "Three men, Bussy; see who they are." Bussy raised himself in his stirrups, and his quick eye soon recognized Livarot. "Mort de ma vie, monseigneur," cried he, "they are our friends from Paris who are besieging us." "No!" cried Livarot, "on the contrary, it is these people who are killing us."

Thereupon the Emperor proclaimed his son the Emperor Napoleon II. "L'Empereur est mort, vive l'Empereur!" shouted Prince Lucien. Psha! not a soul echoed the words: the play was played, and as for old Lafayette and his "permanent" representatives, a corporal with a hammer nailed up the door of their spouting-club, and once more Louis Stanislas Xavier rolled back to the bosom of his people.

His words, indeed, proved to be almost prophetic, for though, for some few minutes longer, the thinned garrison of the French trenches in those parts waited and watched the enemy masses advance, almost unobstructed, yet in a little while, and very soon after the machine-gunners had got into action and rifles were speaking sharply from every direction, there came sudden salvoes from across the river, from Charny Ridge, from the hill of Mort Homme, and from that of 304 high ground, in fact, almost continuous with the Hill of Talou.