Well,  trust  me,  it's  no  such  pleasure  as  they
deem  it,  after  all.  There  was  I,  turned
loose  upon  the  world,  with  nothing  but  a
suit  of  ragged  clothes  my  comrades  made
up  amongst  them,  my  old  rapier,  and  a  bad
asthma.  Such  was  my  stock  in  trade,  to
begin  life  anew,  at  the  age  of  forty-seven.
And  so,  I  set  out  on  my  weary  way  back
to  Paris."

"  Didn't  you  try  your  chance  with  the
Petit  Caporal  first?"  asked  one  of  the
listeners.
"To  be  sure  I  did.  I  sent  him  a  long
petition,  setting  forth  the  whole  circum-
stance, and  detailing  every  minute  par-
ticular of  the  duel,  but  I  received  it  back,
unopened — with  Duroc's  name,  and  the
word  '  Eejected,'  on  the  back.
"It  is  strange  how  unlit  we  old  soldiers
are  for  any  occupation  in  a  civil  way,  when
we've  spent  half  a  lifetime  campaign-
ing. When  I  reached  Paris,  I  could  almost
have  wedged  myself  into  the  scabbard  of
my  sword.    Long  marches  and  short-rations


had  told  heavily  on  me,  and  the  custom-
house officer  at  the  barrier  told  me  to  pass
on,  without  ever  stopping  to  see  that  I  car-
ried no  contraband  goods  about  me.
"I  had  a  miserable  time  enough  of  it  for
twelve  or  fourteen  months.  The  only  way
of  support  I  could  find  was  teaching  re-
cruits the  sword  exercise — and  you  know
they  couldn't  be  very  liberal  in  their  re-
wards for  the  service  ;  but  even  this  poor
trade  was  soon  interdicted,  as  the  police  re-
ported that  I  encouraged  the  young  soldiers
to  fight  duels — a  great  offense,  truly  ! — but
you  see  everything  went  unluckily  with  me
at  that  time.
