We came down here several times to see how things were getting on, and always found the little town quite feverishly animated. We had succeeded in getting the band of the regiment stationed at Soissons. I wrote to the Colonel, who said he would send it with pleasure, but that he couldn't on his own authority. An application must be made to the Ministère de la Guerre. There is always so much red tape in France. One writes and receives so many letters about anything one wants to do--a Christmas Tree in the school-house--a distribution of soup for the poor and old--a turn in a road to be rounded, etc. However, the permission was graciously accorded for the band. The Mayor's idea was to station it on the Mail, where quantities of people would congregate who couldn't get into the church or the tent. We went one day to have tea with the Abbé Maréchal in his nice old presbytère; the salon opening out on a large, old-fashioned garden with fine trees, and a view of the church towers in the distance. He was quite pleased with all that he had arranged for his church service. One of his friends, Abbé Vignon, a most interesting man and eloquent preacher, promised to deliver a lecture on Racine from the pulpit; and M. Vincent d'Indy, the distinguished composer and leader of the modern school of music, undertook the music with Mme. Jeanne Maunay as singer; he himself presiding at the organ. I tried to persuade the proprietors of all the châteaux in the neighbourhood to come, but I can't say I had much success. Some had gout--some had mourning. I don't remember if any one "had married a wife and therefore couldn't come."