46 MEMOIR OF FLEEMING JENKIN 



Scott, * was quite delightful : getting popped at 

 and run at by horses, and giving sous for the 

 wounded into little boxes guarded by the raggedest, 

 picturesquest, delightfullest, sentinels ; but the 

 insurrection ! ugh, I shudder to think at [sic] it.' 

 He found it * not a bit of fun sitting boxed up in 

 the house four days almost. ... I was the only 

 gentleman to four ladies, and didn't they keep me 

 in order ! I did not dare to show my face at a 

 window, for fear of catching a stray ball or being 

 forced to enter the National Guard ; [for] they 

 would have it I was a man full-grown, French, and 

 every way fit to fight. And my mamma was as 

 bad as any of them ; she that told me I was a 

 coward last time if I stayed in the house a quarter 

 of an hour ! But I drew, examined the pistols, of 

 which I found lots with caps, powder, and ball, 

 while sometimes murderous intentions of killing 

 a dozen insurgents and dying violently overpowered 

 by numbers. . . .' We may drop this sentence 

 here : under the conduct of its boyish writer, it 

 was to reach no legitimate end. 



Flight to Four days of such a discipline had cured the family 

 of Paris ; the same year Fleeming was to write, in 

 answer apparently to a question of Frank Scott's, 

 * I could find no national game in France but 

 revolutions ' ; and the witticism was justified in 

 their experience. On the first possible day, they 

 applied for passports, and were advised to take the 



