ression made at this
time by an observation of Louis XVI. On the day of his coronation he put
his hand up to his head, at the moment of the crown being placed upon it,
and said, "It pinches me." Henri III. had exclaimed, "It pricks me."
Those who were near the King were struck with the similarity between these
two exclamations, though not of a class likely to be blinded by the
superstitious fears of ignorance.

While the Queen, neglected as she was, could not even hope for the
happiness of being a mother, she had the mortification of seeing the
Comtesse d'Artois give birth to the Duc d'Angouleme.

Custom required that the royal family and the whole Court should be
present at the accouchement of the Princesses; the Queen was therefore
obliged to stay a whole day in her sister-in-law's chamber. The moment
the Comtesse d'Artois was informed a prince was born, she put her hand to
her forehead and exclaimed with energy, "My God, how happy I am!" The
Queen felt very differently at this involuntary and natural exclamation.
Nevertheless, her behaviour was perfect. She bestowed all possible marks
of tenderness upon the young mother, and would not leave her until she was
again put into bed; she afterwards passed along the staircase, and through
the hall of the guards, with a calm demeanour, in the midst of an immense
crowd. The poissardes, who had assumed a right of speaking to sovereigns
in their own vulgar language, followed her to the very doors of her
apartments, calling out to her with gross expressions, that she ought to
produce heirs. The Queen reached her inner room, hurried and agitated; he
shut herself up to weep with me alone, not from jealousy of her
sister-in-law's happiness,--of that he was incapable,--but from sorrow at
her own situation.

Deprived of the happiness of giving an heir to the crown, the Queen
endeavoured to interest herself in the children of the people of her
household. She had long been desirous to bring up one of them herself,
and to make it the constant object of her care. A little village boy,
four or five years old, full of health, with a pleasing countenance,
remarkably large blue eyes, and fine light hair, got under the feet of the
Queen's horses, when she was taking an airing in a calash, through the
hamlet of St. Michel, near Louveciennes. The coachman and postilions
stopped the horses, and the child was rescued without the slightest
injury. Its grandmother rushed out of the doo