You don't say! you want to choose your vegetables, do you? You're getting to be very particular. How much have you made to-day? MONSIEUR TROUSQUIN. Eighteen sous.--Note the gunners and the cuirassiers; see how the sabres play, while the cannonballs meet in mid air and the shells spread fire and blood on all sides; see the hussars, the dragoons, the trumpets, and the drums! hear the shrieks of the dead and dying, the moans of the wounded and vanquished. See that young soldier on the right, defending his flag with his teeth, because both his arms have been cut off; and at the left, that officer who has three dead horses upon him, and who forgets that he is suffocating while he takes aim at the enemy's general. See the dust, the flame, the smoke, the carnage, and the corpses that embellish the picture. The action is superb, you see; the battle waxes hotter and more furious---- At this point, the explanation was interrupted by an unforeseen catastrophe: the young woman and the soldier, who were evidently taking the liveliest interest in the battle,--for I kept hearing exclamations from the damsel and energetic monosyllables from her companion,--not content with moving the curtain, threw themselves violently against the magic lantern, at the most critical point of the Battle of Marengo. The shock was so violent that the ambulatory theatre could not sustain it; it fell backward, and the spectators fell upon it, while the manager of the establishment was thrown to the ground with his bowl of soup, and Madame Trousquin was entangled by the cords that she held in each hand.