decoration), he was, I expect,
rather a pinched-looking, queer-looking boy; and, moreover, his boots
were so big, and his legs were so thin, that the legs appeared lost in
the boots.

As he glanced at himself in the mirror, the girls giggled again, and
their mother said,--

"Silly ones, why do you laugh? Is our new uniform so marvellous a change
that you do not recognize Lieutenant Bonaparte?"

"Lieutenant Bonaparte, mamma!" cried fun-loving Laura. "No, no! not
that. See! is not Napoleon for all the world like--like Lieutenant
Puss-in-Boots?"

Whereupon they laughed yet more merrily, and Napoleon laughed with them.

"My boots are big, indeed," he said; "too big, perhaps; but I hope to
grow into them. How was it with Puss-in-Boots, girls? He filled his well
at last, did he not? You will be sorry you laughed at me, some day, when
I march into your house, a big, fat general. Come, let us go and see
Eliza. They may go with me, eh, Madame?"

"Yes; go with the lieutenant, children," said Madame Permon.

[Illustration: _"Like--like Lieutenant Puss-in-Boots!"_]

So they all went to call on Eliza, at the school of St. Cyr, and you may
be sure that she admired her brother, the new lieutenant, boots and all.
And as they came home, Napoleon took the little girls into a toy-store,
and bought for them a toy-carriage, in which he placed a doll dressed as
Puss-in-boots.

"It is the carriage of the Marquis of Carabas, my children," he said, as
they went to the Permons' house by the river. "And when I am at Valence,
you will look at this, and think again of your friend, Lieutenant
Puss-in-Boots."

But between the date of his commission and his orders to join his
regiment at Valence a whole month passed, in which time Napoleon's funds
ran very low. Indeed, he was so completely penniless, that, when the
orders did come, Napoleon had nothing; and his friend Alexander had just
enough to get them both to Lyons.

"What shall we do? I have nothing left, Napoleon," said Alexander; "and
Valence is still miles away."

"We can walk, Alexander," said Napoleon.

"But one must eat, my friend," Alexander replied ruefully. For boys of
sixteen have good appetites, and do not like to go hungry.

"True, one must eat," said Napoleon. "Ah, I have it! We will call upon
Monsieur Barlet." Now, Monsieur Barlet was a friend of the Bonapartes,
and had once lived in Corsica. So both boys hunted him up, and Napoleon
told their story.

"Well, my