The seven spurred their horses and fell upon the twenty-seven with shouts of defiance. The shock demoralized the Germans, who made no stand at all. One was killed by a lance thrust. The officer in command was drawing his revolver when Lieutenant Bruyant cut him down with his sabre. Six more were wounded and knocked off their horses. The rest fled in disorder. _Monday, August 17._ Sixteenth day of mobilization. Gray, cloudy weather with northerly breezes. Thermometer at five P.M. 17 degrees centigrade. The first trophy of the war, the flag of the One Hundred and Thirty-second German Infantry Regiment (First Regiment of Lower Alsace), arrived in Paris this morning, having been brought by motor-car from the front, where it was captured at Sainte-Blaise by the Tenth Battalion of Chasseurs-a-Pieds (riflemen), a corps which distinguished itself in the Franco-Austrian war of 1859 by capturing the first Austrian flag at Solferino. In 1840, the Tenth Chasseurs-a-Pied were commanded by Patrice de MacMahon, then a major and afterwards Marshal of France and Duc de Magenta, and whose name is remembered by the corps in their march song: "L' dixiem' batallion, Commandant Mac-Mahon, N'a pas peur du canon, Nom de nom!" The captured flag is of magenta colored silk, with a white St. Andrew's cross, on which the imperial eagle and the regimental insignia are embroidered in gold. The news that a German flag was being shown spread rapidly, and a large crowd gathered. There were no insulting remarks, merely quiet observation. Among the first to see the trophy were some school-children headed by their master, who explained the significance of the capture. The flag was taken to the Elysee Palace and shown to President Poincare, who is himself a major of chasseurs-a-pied. It was afterwards placed in the Invalides. General Michel, the Governor of Paris, has notified all places of public entertainment that their programmes must henceforth be submitted to the censors under pain of closure of the establishment. Except for trifling drawbacks, inevitable in times like the present, Paris has little to complain of. There are everywhere signs of a gradual return to normal conditions. Among these is the reappearance of flowers on the costermongers' carts and at the kiosks. In the early stages of the mobilization, when many thousands of families were saying good-by to their men, no one had the heart to buy flowers, even had any supply been available. The conveyance to Paris of flowers grown in the neighborhood of the capital has now been reorganized, and roses and carnations are being sold on the main thoroughfares at normal prices.