occupation by the allies, Ranelagh was
converted successively into stables and an
hospital. Not long afterwards, the building
was completely destroyed by a storm. At
the restoration, the proprietor had to plead
six years for permission to rebuild it. When,
at length, he obtained an authorisation, the
establishment was speedily reopened, on a
scale of great magnificence, under the patronage
of the Duchess de Berry, and has
flourished ever since.

The recent improvements in the Bois de
Boulogne, consist principally in the introduction
of water into the wood, by the formation
of a river, a lake, and several large and small
ponds. The river is situated at a short
distance from the Porte Dauphine, and extends
along the wood in an easterly direction. In
the middle of the river there are two islands
joined to each other by a picturesque bridge
made of rocks. These islands are laid out
with green grassplats, sandy serpentine
paths, and immense patches of gorgeous
flowers. Peeping out from among the trees
are grottoes, summer-houses, Swiss cottages,
and romantic ruins. Pretty boats trimmed
with green and yellow cloth, and gaily
decorated with tricolor flags, form the only mode
of conveyance to the islands. On the banks
of the river there are landing-places, and
seats made of rocks and carved wood. Narrow
footpaths, bordered by green banks and
surrounded by broad carriage-drives, lead to the
source of the river; which has been made
into a splendid waterfall. Separated only
by the width of a road from the river, is
the silent lake, where water-lilies spread
their calices to the sun, and swarms of little
fish flit under the water. Near the end of
the lake a mound has been formed, which
commands a view over the whole of the Bois
de Boulogne and its environs. To the right
of the river and the lake artificial streams
meander with innumerable windings, and are
spanned here and there by fantastic bridges
festooned with ivy, which are reflected in the
limpid water. On both sides there are
overhanging trees, green seats, and shady bowers,
which afford an agreeable shelter from the
sun in midsummer. Where the streams
slacken their course, innumerable whirligigs
(gyrinidæ) skim just under the surface. These
streams lead to Longchamps, where they widen
into three small lakes. By the side of these
lakes two race-courses have been formed, one
two thousand and the other four thousand
metres long. Opposite to them a mound has
been raised commanding a magnificent view
over the race-course, and the immense
panorama which stretches from the banks of the
Seine, from Mount Valerien and St. Cloud to
the village of Passy and the Arc de Triomphe.
The Bois de Boulogne has been cut up and
intersected with new roads, with a view to
prevent its being the scene of duels and
suicides, which, were formerly very frequent
occurrences. There is, indeed, a tree near the
gate of La Muette which is called l'arbre des
pendus—the tree of the hanged—but, from
henceforth, the horrors will be driven away,
it is hoped, at least, as far as to the Bois de
Vincennes.

In several parts of the Bois de Boulogne,
immense tracts of land have been converted
into beautiful, green, grassy prairies. One of
these has been inclosed, and made into a
pleasure garden, and received the name of
Pré Catelan,—Catelan's Prairie. The grounds
are laid out in spacious lawns, intersected by
carriage-drives and gravel-walks, with here
and there beds and banks of lovely flowers.
There is a cafe, a reading-room, a photographic
establishment, a telegraphic electrical
machine, by means of which two persons can
converse at a distance, a concert-room, several
puppet-shows, and various other amusements.
Eighty thousand trees and shrubs
have been distributed in clusters over the
garden, which is brilliantly illuminated every
evening with coloured lamps.

Pré Catelan derives its name from a
broken cross standing near its principal
entrance, which marks the site of a lamentable
tragedy enacted in the Forest of Rouvray
towards the end of the thirteenth century.
During the reign of Philippe le Bel of
France there lived, at the court of Beatrix of
Savoy Countess of Provence, a wandering
minstrel, named Arnaud Catelan. As Catelan
was the most celebrated troubadour of his
epoch, the French king wished to attract
him to his court, and sent a letter to Beatrix
begging her to allow Catelan to come and
spend a few months in Paris. Beatrix gave
her consent immediately, and the troubadour,
highly flattered by the invitation, set out upon
his journey, accompanied by a servant to
carry his baggage. On arriving in Paris he
was told that the king was staying at the
manor of Passy, and desired him to proceed
thither. Catelan resumed his journey, hoping
to reach Passy before nightfall. When he
arrived at the outskirts of the Forest of
Rouvray he met a company of soldiers, whose
captain informed him they had been sent by
the king to protect him. The shades of
evening were closing in fast as they continued
their march, Catelan walking in front
conversing with the captain, while his servant
followed with the soldiers. Suddenly the
captain said to Catelan :

"Cà messire, your servant carries a
hamper which seems too great a load for him. Is
it very heavy?"

"Oh, yes," replied the troubadour, with
pride, "it is full of presents for his
majesty."

A few minutes afterwards the captain
stopped and whispered something to the
lieutenant. The night came on dark, cold, and
windy, and Catelan remarked that, instead of
keeping on the outskirts, as he had been told
to do, he was led into the thickest, part of the
forest. When they reached the spot where