This Is Still Done; These Memorials Are Ever There.

At one time this was forbidden by the government, but to no purpose.

At last, an officer was stationed at the foot of the column with a water engine, and with orders to play it upon any one who should bring any votive offerings to the fallen hero. A lady, whose love and admiration could not be so intimidated, came the next day in her carriage, which she filled with wreaths of flowers, and stood up in it, and threw wreath after wreath at the foot of the column, crying out, as each one fell, "Will you play your engine upon me?" But not a drop of water was sent at her, and she deposited all her offerings, and went away unharmed. I suppose a Frenchman would sooner have been shot than have done any thing to quench the enthusiasm of this heroic woman.

One thing struck me much in Paris, and most agreeably, and that is the good appearance of the children. This is not confined to the rich; you will see a very poor woman leading her child, really well dressed. You never see boys idling in the streets; you never hear them swearing and quarrelling. If you ask a boy to show you the way, his manner of doing it would grace a drawing room. I am told that the French are never severe with their children; that the French nature will not bear it; that strong excitement makes the children ill; that the law of love is the only one they will bear.

Stop with me now on our walk, at this little low cart, just by the sidewalk; it is as you see larger than a common handcart, and much lower, and on four small wheels; it is full of china, all marked 13 sous. See how pretty these cups and saucers are. After your looking at all the pieces, the owner would say, "Bon jour" very kindly to you, if you took nothing, but we will take this pretty cup and saucer; as a remembrance of his little cart. As we walk along, we shall see many others, containing every thing you can imagine.

I bought many things in the streets, - combs, saucepans, clothes- brushes, &c. Look into this shop window; see these lovely flowers, and, in the midst of them, a small fountain is playing all the time to keep them fresh. Look at those immense bunches in the windows, - of pansies, violets, hyacinths of all colors, ixias, wall flowers, tulips, geraniums, narcissus; and O, this is not half the variety of flowers! look into the shop; there are bushels of them and other flowers, all ranged round the wall; the perfume salutes the most insensible passer-by; it tells of the songs of birds, and of the delights of summer time. You cannot resist its influence. Let us go in and look at the flowers. The person who keeps the shop has the manners of a lady; she wishes you good morning; and, if you do not behave just as you would if you entered a lady's parlor, you are set down as an American or Englishman, who does not know how to behave. When you leave the shop also, you must remember to say, "Bon jour," or you commit an offence.

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