cyclopedia.
It is well to be informed about such things, but one does not need to
know everything on the spur of the moment."

Such was the character of the geography lessons, always ending with
historical anecdotes. But he preferred to begin at once with history,
or what seemed to him history. And here I must mention his pronounced
fondness for all the events and the persons concerned in them between
the siege of Toulon and the imprisonment on the island of St. Helena.
He was always reverting to these persons and things. I have elsewhere
named his favorites, with Ney and Lannes at the head of the list, but
in that enumeration I forgot to mention one man, who stood perhaps
nearer to his heart than these, namely, Latour d'Auvergne, of whom he
had told me any number of anecdotes back in our Ruppin days. These
were now repeated. According to the new stories Latour d'Auvergne bore
the title of the "First Grenadier of France," because in spite of his
rank of general he always stood in the rank and file, next to the
right file-leader of the Old Guard. Then when he fell, in the battle
of Neuburg, Napoleon gave orders that the heart of the "First
Grenadier" be placed in an urn and carried along with the troop, and
that his name, Latour d'Auvergne, be regularly called at every
roll-call, and the soldier serving as file-leader be instructed to
answer in his stead and tell where he was. This was about what I had
long ago learned by heart from my father's stories; but his fondness
for this hero was so great that, whenever it was at all possible, he
returned to him and asked the same questions. Or, to be more accurate,
the same scene was enacted, for it was a scene.

"Do you know Latour d'Auvergne?" he usually began.

"Certainly. He was the First Grenadier of France."

"Good. And do you also know how he was honored after he was dead?"

"Certainly."

"Then tell me how it was."

"Very well; but you must first stand up, papa, and be file-leader, or
I can't do it."

Then he would actually rise from his seat on the sofa and in true
military fashion take his position before me as file-leader of the Old
Guard, while I myself, little stick-in-the-mud that I was, assumed the
part of the roll-calling officer. Then I began to call the names:

"Latour d'Auvergne!"

"He is not here," answered my father in a basso profundo voice.

"Where is he, pray?"

"He died on the field of honor."

Once in awhile my mother attended these pecu