t,
coming as it did, that bit of ribbon is precious to me. It is a relic,
not an object for show. I keep it religiously in a drawer.

There was a parcel of big books on the table a collection of the reports
on the progress of science drawn up for the International Exhibition of
1867, which had just closed.

'Those books are for you,' continued the minister. 'Take them with you.
You can look through them at your leisure: they may interest you. There
is something about your insects in them. You're to have this too: it
will pay for your journey. The trip which I made you take must not be
at your own expense. If there is anything over, spend it on your
laboratory.'

And he handed me a roll of twelve hundred francs. In vain I refused,
remarking that my journey was not so burdensome as all that; besides,
his embrace and his bit of ribbon were of inestimable value compared
with my disbursements. He insisted: 'Take it,' he said, 'or I shall be
very angry. There's something else: you must come to the emperor's with
me tomorrow, to the reception of the learned societies.'

Seeing me greatly perplexed and as though demoralized by the prospect of
an imperial interview: 'Don't try to escape me,' he said, 'or look out
for the gendarmes of my letter! You saw the fellows in the bearskin caps
on your way up. Mind you don't fall into their hands. In any case, lest
you should be tempted to run away, we will go to the Tuileries together,
in my carriage.'

Things happened as he wished. The next day, in the minister's company, I
was ushered into a little drawing room at the Tuileries by chamberlains
in knee breeches and silver-buckled shoes. They were queer people to
look at. Their uniforms and their stiff gait gave them the appearance,
in my eyes, of beetles who, by way of wing cases, wore a great,
gold-laced dress coat, with a key in the small of the back. There were
already a score of persons from all parts waiting in the room. These
included geographical explorers, botanists, geologists, antiquaries,
archeologists, collectors of prehistoric flints, in short, the usual
representatives of provincial scientific life.

The emperor entered, very simply dressed, with no parade about him
beyond a wide, red, watered silk ribbon across his chest. No sign of
majesty, an ordinary man, round and plump, with a large moustache and
a pair of half-closed, drowsy eyelids. He moved from one to the other,
talking to each of us for a moment as the mi