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Mr. Bonaparte of Corsica

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The Emperor of Germany and the excessively smart Alexander of Russia sat on dead-head hill and watched the game with interest, but in spite of my repeated efforts to get them to do so, were utterly unwilling to cover my bets on the final result. The second half opened brilliantly. Murat made a flying wedge with our centre-rush, threw himself impetuously upon Kutusoff, the Russian half-back, pushed the enemy back beyond the goal posts, and the game was practically over. The emperors on dead-head hill gave it up then and there, and the championship of 1805 is ours. We understand England disputes this, but we are willing to play them on neutral ground at any time. They can beat us in aquatic sports, but given a good, hard, real-estate field, we can do them up whether Wellington plays or not." "It was a glorious victory," wrote Fouche to the Emperor, "and it has had a great effect on Paris. You are called the Hinkey of your time, but I still think you erred in not losing that leg. Can't you work in another coronation somewhere? You haven't acquired a new throne in over six months, and the people are beginning to murmur." Bonaparte's reply was immediate. "Am too busy to go throne-hunting. Send my brother Joseph down to Naples as my agent. There's a crown there. Let him put it on, and tell Paris that he is my proxy. Joseph may not want to go because of the cholera scare, but tell him We wish it, and if he still demurs whisper the word 'Alp' in his ear. He'll go when he hears that word, particularly if you say it in that short, sharp, and decisive manner to which it so readily lends itself." These instructions were carried out, and Paris was for the time being satisfied; but to clinch matters, as it were, the Emperor went still further, and married Eugene de Beauharnais to the daughter of the King of Bavaria, conferred a few choice principalities upon his sister Eliza, and, sending for Prince Borghese, one of the most aristocratic gentlemen of Italy, gave him in marriage to his sister Pauline. "We're getting into good society by degrees," wrote the Emperor to the Empress, "and now that you are the mother-in-law of a real prince, kindly see that your manner is imperious to the extreme degree, and stop serving pie at state banquets." The succeeding two years were but repetitions of the first year of the Empire. Bonaparte proceeded from one victory to another. Prussia was humbled. The French Emperor occupied Berlin, and, as he had done in Italy, levied upon the art treasures of that city for the enrichment of Paris. "We'll have quite a Salon if we go on," said Bonaparte. "Anybody'd think you were getting up a corner in oil," said Frederick, ruefully, as he watched the packers at work boxing his most treasured paintings for shipment. "We am getting up a corner in all things," retorted Bonaparte. "Paris will soon be the Boston of Europe--it will be the Hub of the Universe." "You might leave me something," said the Prussian king. "I haven't an old master left." "Well, never mind," said Napoleon, soothingly. "We'll be a young master to you. Now go to bed, like a good fellow, and take a good rest. There's a delegation of Poles waiting for me outside. They think We am going to erect a telegraph system to Russia, and they want employment." "As operators?" asked Frederick, sadly. "No, stupid," returned Napoleon, "as Poles." The Prussian left the room in tears. To his great regret policy compelled Bonaparte to decline the petition of the Polanders to be allowed to rehabilitate themselves as a nation. As we have seen, he was a man of peace, and many miles away from home at that, and hence had no desire to further exasperate Russia by meddling in an affair so close to the Czar's heart. This diplomatic foresight resulted in the Peace of Tilsit. The Czar, appreciating Bonaparte's delicacy in the matter of Poland, was quite won over, and consented to an interview by means of which a basis might be reached upon which all might rest from warfare. Tilsit was chosen as the place of meeting, and fearing lest they might be interrupted by reporters, the two emperors decided to hold their conference upon a raft anchored in the middle of the river Niemen. It must be remembered that tugs had not been invented at this time, so that the raft was comparatively safe from those "Boswells of the news," as reporters have been called. Fouche was very anxious about this decision however. "Look out for yourself, my dear Emperor," he wrote. "Wear a cork suit, or insist that the raft shall be plentifully supplied with life-preservers. Those Eastern emperors would like nothing better than to have you founder in the Niemen." "We are not afraid," Napoleon replied. "If the craft sinks We shall swim ashore on Alexander's back." Nevertheless, all other historians to the contrary, Bonaparte did wear a cork suit beneath his uniform. We have this on the authority of the nephew of the valet of the late Napoleon III., who had access to the private papers of this wonderful family. Nothing disastrous occurred upon this occasion in spite of the temptation thrown in Alexander's way to sink the raft and thus rid the world of a dangerous rival to his supremacy. The conference resulted in a treaty of peace, concluded on the 7th of July, 1807, and by it a few more thrones were added to the Bonaparte collection. Jerome, who had been trying to make a living as a music teacher in America, having been divorced from his American wife and married to another, was made King of Westphalia. "Having made a failure in the West, my dear brother," said Bonaparte, "what could be more appropriate?" Louis was made King of Holland, and Joseph's kingship of Naples was fully recognized, and, further, Bonaparte was enabled to return to Paris and show himself to the citizens of that fickle city, who were getting restive under Josephine's rule. "They like Josephine well enough," wrote Fouche, "but the men prefer to have you here. The fact that things run smoothly under a woman's rule is giving the female suffragists a great boom, and the men say that domestic life is being ruined. Cooks are scarce, having deserted the kitchen for the primaries, and altogether the outlook is effeminate. Therefore, come back as soon as you can, for if you

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