University of Virginia Library

INTERVIEW WITH THE PRINCE NAPOLEON.

Notwithstandin I haint writ much for the papers
of late, nobody needn't flatter theirselves that the
undersined is ded. On the contry, “I still live,”
which words was spoken by Danyil Webster, who
was a able man. Even the old-line whigs of Boston
will admit that. Webster is ded now, howsever,
and his mantle has probly fallen into the hands of
sum dealer in 2nd hand close, who can't sell it.
Leastways nobody pears to be goin round wearin it
to any perticler extent, now days. The rigiment of
whom I was kurnel, finerly concluded they was better
adapted as Home Gards, which accounts for your
not hearin of me, ear this, where the bauls is the thickest
and where the cannon doth roar. But as a American
citizen I shall never cease to admire the masterly
advance our troops made on Washington from Bull

Run, a short time ago. It was well dun. I spoke
to my wife 'bout it at the time. My wife sed it was
well dun.

It havin there4 bin detarmined to pertect Baldinsville
at all hazzuds, and as there was no apprehensions
of any immejit danger, I thought I would
go orf onto a pleasure tower. Accordinly I put on
a clean Biled Shirt and started for Washinton. I
went there to see the Prints Napoleon, and not to
see the place, which I will here take occasion to obsarve
is about as uninterestin a locality as there is
this side of J. Davis's future home, if he ever does
die, and where I reckon they'll make it so warm for
him that he will si for his summer close. It is easy
enough to see why a man goes to the poor house or
the penitentiary. It's becawz he can't help it. But
why he should woluntarily go and live in Washinton,
is intirely beyond my comprehension, and I
can't say no fairer nor that.

I put up to a leadin hotel. I saw the landlord
and sed, “How d'ye do, Square?”

“Fifty cents, sir,” was his reply.

“Sir?”

“Half-a-dollar. We charge twenty-five cents for
lookin at the landlord and fifty cents for speakin to
him. If you want supper, a boy will show you to
the dinin room for twenty-five cents. Your room bein
in the tenth story, it will cost you a dollar to be
shown up there.”

“How much do you ax a man for breathin in this
equinomikal tarvun?” sed I.

“Ten cents a Breth,” was his reply.

Washinton hotels is very reasonable in their
charges. [N. B.—This is Sarkassum.]

I sent up my keerd to the Prints, and was immejitly
ushered before him. He received me kindly,
and axed me to sit down.

“I hav cum to pay my respecks to you, Mister
Napoleon, hopin I see you hale and harty.”

“I am quite well,” he sed. “Air you well,
sir?”

“Sound as a cuss!” I answerd.

He seemed to be pleased with my ways, and we
entered into conversation to onct.

“How's Lewis?” I axed, and he sed the Emperor
was well. Eugeny was likewise well, he sed.
Then I axed him was Lewis a good provider? did
he cum home arly nites? did he perfoom her bedroom
at a onseasonable hour with gin and tanzy?
Did he go to “the Lodge” on nites when there
wasn't any Lodge? did he often hav to go down
town to meet a friend? did he hav a extensiv acquaintance
among poor young widders whose husbands
was in Californy? to all of which questions
the Prints perlitely replide, givin me to understan
that the Emperor was behavin well.

“I ax these questions, my royal duke and most
noble higness and imperials, becaws I'm anxious to
know how he stands as a man. I know he's smart.
He is cunnin, he is long-heded, he is deep—he is
grate. But onless he is good he'll come down with
a crash one of these days and the Bonyparts will be
Bustid up agin. Bet yer life!”

“Air you a preacher, sir?” he inquired, slitely
sarkasticul.

“No, sir. But I bleeve in morality. I likewise

bleeve in Meetin Houses. Show me a place where
there isn't any Meetin Houses and where preachers
is never seen, and I'll show you a place where old
hats air stuffed into broken winders, where the children
air dirty and ragged, where gates have no hinges,
where the wimin are slipshod, and where maps of
the devil's “wild land” air painted upon men's
shirt-bosums with tobacco-jooce! That's what I'll
show you. Let us consider what the preachers do
for us before we aboose 'em.”

He sed he didn't mean to aboose the clergy. Not
at all, and he was happy to see that I was interested
in the Bonypart family.

“It's a grate family,” sed I. “But they scooped
the old man in.”

“How, sir?”

“Napoleon the Grand. The Britishers scooped
him at Waterloo. He wanted to do too much, and
he did it! They scooped him in at Waterloo, and
he subsekently died at St. Heleny! There's where
the gratest military man this world ever projuced
pegged out. It was rather hard to consine such a

man as him to St. Heleny, to spend his larst days in
catchin mackeril, and walkin up and down the
dreary beach in a military cloak drawn titely round
him, (see picter-books), but so it was. `Hed of the
Army!' Them was his larst words. So he had
bin. He was grate! Don't I wish we had a pair
of his old boots to command sum of our Brigades!”

This pleased Jerome, and he took me warmly by
the hand.

“Alexander the Grate was punkins,” I continnered,
but Napoleon was punkinser! Alic. wept
becaws there was no more worlds to scoop, and then
took to drinkin. He drowndid his sorrers in the
flowin bole, and the flowin bole was too much for
him. It ginerally is. He undertook to give a
snake exhibition in his boots, but it killed him.
That was a bad joke on Alic!”

“Since you air so solicitous about France and the
Emperor, may I ask you how your own country is
getting along?” sed Jerome, in a pleasant voice.

“It's mixed,” I sed. “But I think we shall
cum out all right.”

“Columbus, when he diskivered this magnificent
continent, could hav had no idee of the grandeur it
would one day assoom,” sed the Prints.

It cost Columbus twenty thousand dollars to fit
out his explorin expedition,” sed I. “If he had
bin a sensible man he'd hav put the money in a hoss
railroad or a gas company, and left this magnificent
continent to intelligent savages, who when they got
hold of a good thing knew enuff to keep it, and who
wouldn't hav seceded, nor rebelled, nor knockt Liberty
in the hed with a slungshot. Columbus wasn't
much of a feller, after all. It would hav bin money
in my pocket if he'd staid to home. Chris. ment
well, but he put his foot in it when he saled for
America.”

We talked sum more about matters and things, and
at larst I riz to go. “I will now say good bye to
you, noble sir, and good luck to you. Likewise the
same to Clotildy. Also to the gorgeous persons
which compose your soot. If the Emperor's boy
don't like livin at the Tooleries, when he gits older,
and would like to imbark in the show bizniss, let

him come with me and I'll make a man of him.
You find us sumwhat mixed, as I before obsarved,
but come again next year and you'll find us clearer
nor ever. The American Eagle has lived too
sumptuously of late—his stummic becum foul, and
he's takin a slite emetic. That's all. We're gettin
ready to strike a big blow and a sure one. When
we do strike the fur will fly and secession will be in
the hands of the undertaker, sheeted for so deep a
grave that nothin short of Gabriel's trombone will
ever awaken it! Mind what I say. You've heard
the showman!”

Then advisin him to keep away from the Peter
Funk auctions of the East, and the proprietors of
corner-lots in the West, I bid him farewell, and
went away.

There was a levee at Senator What's-his-name's,
and I thought I'd jine in the festivities for a spell.
Who should I see but she that was Sarah Watkins,
now the wife of our Congresser, trippin in the
dance, dressed up to kill in her store close. Sarah's
father use to keep a little grosery store in our town,

and she used to clerk it for him in busy times. I
was rushin up to shake hands with her when she
turned on her heel, and tossin her hed in a contemptooious
manner, walked away from me very
rapid. “Hallo, Sal,” I hollered, “can't you measure
me a quart of them best melasses? I may want
a codfish, also!” I guess this reminded her of the
little red store, and “the days of her happy childhood.”

But I fell in with a nice little gal after that, who
was much sweeter than Sally's father's melasses, and
I axed her if we shouldn't glide in the messy
dance. She sed we should, and we Glode.

I intended to make this letter very seris, but a
few goaks may have accidentally crept in. Never
mind. Besides, I think it improves a komick paper
to publish a goak once in a while.