That American property may be safeguarded, in the extremely improbable event of an occupation of the city by the Germans, Ambassador Herrick requests all American citizens owning or leasing houses or apartments in the city of Paris or its vicinity to register their names, with descriptions of their dwellings, at the Embassy. If worse comes to the worst, notices will be posted on American dwellings, giving them the protection of the American flag. Mr. Robert Bacon, former Ambassador to France, is stopping at the Hotel de Crillon in the Place Vendome. He lunched to-day with Mr. Herrick, and both express optimistic views of the situation from military, diplomatic, and financial standpoints. My servant, Felicien, telephoned me from Aubervillier, some ten kilometers from Paris, saying that he, together with four men of his squadron, had become separated from his regiment, the Thirty-second Dragoons. They had lost their horses in the marshes and woods near Chantilly during a cavalry engagement and had been instructed to make their way to Paris and rejoin their regimental depot at Versailles. The party was in charge of their sergeant, who explained that the regiment had at first been sent towards Metz, where they took part in the daily fighting all along the line there, and that suddenly they were entrained and rushed across country to Peronne, to check the advance of the Germans in their march upon Paris. This seems to indicate that the French generals did not fully appreciate until too late the really vital importance of the concentrated rush upon Paris of the right wing of the German armies, where all their strength had been assembled. The dragoons seemed pretty worn out, but were in good spirits and anxious to get back again in the fighting line. But they must go to Versailles to obtain their remounts. Sophie made a succulent lunch for them in the kitchen. They ate beefsteak, potatoes, cabbage, fruit, rice, and cheese, washed down with half a dozen bottles of light claret. Every one seems to be trying to get away from Paris. It is a sort of exodus. I watched my opposite neighbors, Baron and Baroness Pierre de Bourgoing--the latter better known as Suzanne Reichenberg of the Comedie Francaise--getting into their motor-car at half-past five this morning, accompanied by a maid and a pet dog. Baron de Bourgoing was in the uniform of a captain of territorials. He will go with his wife as far as the outer fortifications in the direction of Versailles.