hals,
called MURAT and NEY, to see the EMPRESS and explain to her his
wishes; and this they did with so much effect that Her Majesty
consented, and fainted on the spot. Whether the swoon was real, or
in another sense a feint, is not known, because she was a mistress
of deception. For instance, although she was nearly a negress in
complexion, she managed, at the Palace of Fontainebleau, to appear in
a flaxen wig, and with all the appearance of a blonde beauty. Shortly
after the EMPEROR's marriage with his new wife, that lady called upon
her predecessor, and behaved in such a fashion that JOSEPHINE was
justified in calling her "vulgar." A little later, with the assistance
of a British Dramatist, called W.G. WILLS (who had already made some
alterations in the History of England for the benefit of CHARLES THE
FIRST and Mr. HENRY IRVING), she managed to protect the baby King of
Rome from a _ballet_ mob in the Gardens of the Tuileries, and also to
afford considerable assistance to her Austrian successor while that
"vulgar" person was crawling up some stone steps. Later still, she
contrived to have an affecting interview on the eve of the Battle of
Waterloo with NAPOLEON himself, although it has been reported in some
quarters that she had become defunct a year before the occurrence
of that important victory. It was on this occasion that the Hero of
Austerlitz gave a most valuable testimonial to the British Army, to
whom he referred as "bull-dogs who never knew when they were beaten,"
and soldiers with iron-like tenacity. JOSEPHINE subsequently died
of visions at Malmaison to the soothing sound of soft music kindly
supplied by a semi-concealed orchestra.

CONVERSATION ON A ROYAL (OLYMPIC) DIVORCE.

_Mrs. Markham_. And now, dear little FRANK, can you tell me why the
Battle of Waterloo was lost?

_Frank_. Because, dear Mamma, it was removed from its resting-place in
the Panorama close to Victoria Street.

_Mrs. Markham_. That is a most intelligent reply, but I do not think
you are quite right. I fancy the Battle must have been lost because,
out of the couple of dozen or so of French soldiers who took part in
the Victory in Wych Street, a considerable number had to be told off
to see that NAPOLEON's charger behaved himself.

[Illustration: Waterloo in Play; or, the Charge of a Charger.]

_George_. And yet, dear mother, after the performances, I myself saw
the noble steed trotting most good-naturedly in rear of a hansom cab.