The cold was increasing every day, the ground was frozen hard, the streets very slippery, and going very difficult.  All our horses were rough shod, but even with that we made very slow progress.  Some of the omnibuses were on runners, and one or two of the young men of the ministry had taken off the wheels of their light carriages and put them on runners, but one didn’t see many real sleighs or sledges, as they call them here.  I fancy “sleigh” is entirely an American expression.  The Seine was at last completely taken, and the public was allowed on the ice, which was very thick.  It was a very pretty, animated sight, many booths like those one sees on the Boulevard during the Christmas holidays were installed on the ice close to the banks, and the river was black with people.  They couldn’t skate much, as the ice was rough and there were too many people, but they ran and slid and shouted and enjoyed themselves immensely.  I wanted to cross one day with my boy, that he might say he had crossed the Seine on foot, but W. was rather unwilling.  However, the prefet de la Seine, whom he consulted, told him there was absolutely no danger—­the ice was several inches thick, so I started off one afternoon, one of the secretaries going with me.  He was much astonished and rather nervous at seeing me in my ordinary boots.  He had nails in his, and one of our friends whom we met on the ice had woollen socks over his boots.  They were sure I would slip and perhaps get a bad fall.  “But no one could slip on that ice; it is quite rough, might almost be a ploughed field,”—­but they were uncomfortable, and were very pleased when I landed safely on the other side and got into the carriage.  Just in the middle the boys had swept a path on the ice to make a glissade.  They were racing up and down in bands, and the constant passing had made it quite level and very slippery.  We saw three or four unwary pedestrians get a fall, but if one kept on the outside near the bank there was no danger of slipping.

The extreme cold lasting so long brought many discomforts.  Many trains with wood and provisions couldn’t get to Paris.  The railroads were all blocked and the Parisians were getting uneasy, fearing they might run short of food and fuel.  We were very comfortable in the big rooms of the ministry.  There were roaring fires everywhere, and two or three caloriferes.  The view from the windows on the Quai was charming as long as the great cold lasted, particularly at night, when the river was alive with people, lights and coloured lanterns, and music.  Every now and then there would be a ronde or a farandole,—­the farandole forcing its way through the crowd, every one carrying a lantern and looking like a brilliant snake winding in and out.