Come, let us understand each other. Who are you, members of the Commune? Those among you who are in some sort known to the public do not possess, however, enough of its confidence to make up for the want of knowledge it has of the others. Have a care how you excite our mistrust. You have published decrees that certainly are open to criticism, but that are not entirely obnoxious, for their object is to uphold the interests of that portion of the population, which you most particularly represent, and from whom you hold your commission. We will forgive the decrees if you do nothing worse. Yesterday, the 30th March, during the night (why in the night?) some men wearing a red scarf and followed by several others with arms, presented themselves at the Union Insurance Company. On the porter refusing to deliver up the keys of the offices he was arrested. They then proceeded to break open the doors with the butt-end of their muskets, and put seals on the strong box. What can this portend? Have you been elected to break open private offices and put seals on cash-boxes? That same night, a friend of mine who happened to be passing across one of the bridges on his way home, noticed that the windows of the HÔtel de Ville were brilliantly lighted. Could they be having a ball already? he wondered. He made inquiries and discovered that it was not a ball, but a banquet; three or four hundred National Guards from Belleville had invaded the apartments and had ordered a dinner to be served to them. They were accompanied by a corresponding number of female companions, and were drinking, talking, and singing to their hearts’ content. What do you mean by that, members of the Commune? Have you been elected to keep open-house, and do you propose to inscribe over the entrance of the municipal palace: “Ample accommodation for feasts and banquets,” as a companion to your motto of “Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity?”