The colours floated in the wind, the sun shone brightly on the insects ranged in battle array, while martial music fired our foes with {229} desperate resolve. From time to time grains of balsam, projected into the air by Stag-Beetles with much precision, fell among our troops, exploding and scattering death and dismay around. The enemy’s forces stood firm as a rock. Our army, thoroughly demoralised, made a final attack, and were beaten off with great loss. Bruised wings, scattered mandibles and limbs impeded their movements, till at last they fell back in disorder. As a climax to our misfortunes, the general of the May Bugs, rolling over on his back, was pierced by the sting of a rebel Wasp. It was a lost battle—the Waterloo of our cause! Prince Humble-Bee, not caring to survive his defeat, plunged into the thick of the fray, when, after performing prodigies of valour, he died the death of the brave, pierced by twenty-nine wounds. [Illustration] _Notes by the Office-Boy._ Knowing the anxiety of my chiefs to keep our readers posted up in news, I take the liberty of writing in my turn, and shall go on until I am arrested. My masters had just finished speaking, when the door flew to atoms. The Elephant had rung out the hour of doom at the door bell, and shivered the door with his foot. The pen fell from Mr. Parroquet’s claw, and his eyes closed as if in deep thought. “What do you see?” he inquired of Mr. Cock, who stood at the window. “I see trouble upon trouble; we are menaced on all sides! Confound them!!” cried he bravely; “why should we yield?” “Yield only to reason!” said the Monkey; “never to force!” “What!” crowed the Cock, jumping on the back of the Ape; “you cowardly, man-like animal, reason would tempt you to yield up your post?” “No doubt about it,” replied the Ape, who became as livid as this paper; “if I am”—— He had no time to finish his sentence; the cabinet door flew open and the Fox entered. “Arrest these gentlemen,” said he to the Dogs who followed him, pointing to the trio of editors. The Parroquet flew up the chimney, the Monkey hid beneath his arm-chair, while the Cock stood defiant, his comb never having assumed a hue so red. They were arrested. “What are you doing here?” said the Fox to me. {230} [Illustration: THE BELL OF DOOM.] {231} “Whatever you choose, my lord,” I replied. “Well, remain here,” he continued. Many others had entered with the speaker, and shouted, “Long live my lord the Fox!” They were right, for never had I beheld so affable a prince. “My friends,” he said, “nothing in this office is changed; only one additional animal appears.” (Cheers.) The Fox, taking up the abandoned pen of the Ape, sat down to write his first proclamation. FIRST PROCLAMATION. “Inhabitants of the Jardin des Plantes, the editors having been removed, all cause for disorder has ceased.” “THE FOX, “_Provisional President and Editor_.” “Read and sign this document,” said he to the ex-editors.