took the cup, and returned with it to little
Louis Napoleon.

"Mamma has been explaining a very grave picture to you, Louis," said
she; "I will now show you a merry one. Look at it--isn't it charming?"

The prince cast a hasty, absent-minded look at the cup, and nodded
gravely. Louise laughed gayly.

"You see, Louis," said she, "that this is the exact counterpart of the
picture of the Emperor Napoleon, who, while riding over the Alps,
encounters on their summit the great spirits of Hannibal and Caesar.
Here is a little Napoleon, who is not climbing up the Alps, but climbing
down from his bed, and who, on this occasion, meets a black spirit, in
the person of a chimney-sweep. This is the history of the great and of
the little Napoleon; the great meets Hannibal, the little the
chimney-sweep."

"Am I the little Napoleon?" asked the boy, gravely.

"Yes, Louis, you are, and I will now tell you the story of this cup.
One day, when we were all still in Paris, and while your great uncle was
still Emperor of France--one day, you met in your room a little Savoyard
who had just crept out of the chimney in his black dress, his black
broom in his hand. You cried out with horror, and were about to run
away, but I held you back and told you that these chimney-sweeps were
poor boys, and that their parents were so poor that they could not
support their children, but were compelled to send them to Paris to earn
their bread by creeping into and cleaning our hot and dirty chimneys,
with great trouble, and at the risk of their lives. My story touched
you, and you promised me never to be afraid of the little chimney-sweeps
again. A short time afterward, you were awakened early in the morning by
a strange noise, your brother still lay asleep at your side, and your
nurse was absent from the room. This noise was made by a chimney-sweep
who had just come down the chimney and now stood in your room. As soon
as you saw him, you remembered his poverty, jumped out of bed in your
night-clothes, and ran to the chair on which your clothes lay. You took
out of your pocket the purse you were compelled to carry with you on
your walks to give money to the poor, and you emptied its entire
contents into the black, sooty hand of the young Savoyard. You then
tried to get back to bed, but it was too high for you; you could not
climb over the railing. Seeing this, the chimney-sweep came to your
assistance, and took the little prince in his arms to help him