d never regained since
he was wounded at Maciejowice, broken. All that he asked was to spend
his declining years in free Switzerland with a little house and garden
of his own. When it came to the point he took up his abode with the
devoted Zeltners in Soleure, and his last days passed in peace among
them. He prepared his morning coffee himself in his room, upon the walls
of which hung a picture painted in sepia after his own indications of
that glorious memory of his life--the battle of Raclawice. He dined at
the family table, and enjoyed his evening rubber of whist with the
Zeltners, the family doctor, and a Swiss friend. Every hour was
regularly employed. In the mornings he always wrote: what, we do not
know, for he left orders to his executors to destroy his papers, and
unfortunately was too well obeyed. In the afternoons he walked or rode
out, generally on errands of mercy. The little girl of the house was his
beloved and constant companion; and we have a pretty picture of the
veteran hero of Poland teaching this child history, mathematics, and
above all, drawing. His delight was to give children's parties for her
amusement, at which he led the games and dances and told stories. He was
the most popular of playmates. His appearance in the roads was the
signal for an onslaught of his child friends with gifts of flowers,
while he never failed to rifle his pockets of the sweets with which he
had stuffed them for the purpose. He loved not only children, but all
young people. The young men and girls of the neighbourhood looked upon
him as a father, and went freely to him for sympathy and advice.

Kosciuszko's means were slender, and his tastes remained always simple.
An old blue suit of well-patched clothes sufficed for him; but he must
needs have a rose or violet in his buttonhole, with which the ladies of
Soleure took care to keep him supplied.

The money he should have spent in furbishing up his own person went in
charity and in providing Emilia with articles of dress, for the family,
chiefly through the father's improvidence, was badly off. He was known
by the poor for many a mile around as their angel visitant. Outside his
doors gathered daily an army of beggars, certain of their regular dole.
Kosciuszko's rides were slow, not only on account of his wounded leg,
but because his horse stopped instinctively whenever a beggar was
sighted, in the consciousness that his master never passed one by
without giving alms. He