Excerpt from With French at the Front: A Story of the Great European, War Down to the Battle of the Aisne
A Whirling, nerve-racking day was coming to an end, a sultry day which set the mobs perspiring, and on which the pavements and the smooth streets of the German capital reflected the sun"s rays till the air scintillated, till the people gasped. And now the evening had come, the evening of a day than which there had been none more exciting - nay, none half so exciting - in all the history of Berlin, not even those eventful days in 1870. Then, mobs had raced along the selfsame streets shouting and waving flags. Then, as now, the crowds had rushed to the bureau of news to gather the latest tidings. In 1870 it was war. It was war now. War! - war! War against Russia. War against France. War for which the Fatherland had been waiting, aye, waiting and longing.
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