te leathern aprons, stood in serried ranks, three deep.

The Queen's yacht had been timed to enter the harbour at one, but it was
within a minute or so of two before it was moored amidst the salutes
from the forts. The Emperor, who had been on horseback the whole of the
morning--who, in fact, preferred that means of locomotion on all
important occasions, as it showed him off to greater advantage,--had
been standing by the side of his charger. He crossed the gangway,
beautifully upholstered in purple velvet and carpet to match, at once,
and, after having kissed her hand, offered her his arm to assist her in
landing, Prince Albert and the royal children coming immediately behind
the Imperial host and his principal guest. A magnificent roomy barouche,
capable of holding six persons and lined with white satin, but only
drawn by two horses--such horses! for in that respect Napoleon had
spent his time to advantage in England,--stood waiting to convey the
Royal family. The Emperor himself, though, mounted his horse once more,
and took his place by the right of the carriage, the left being taken by
Marshal Baraguey-d'Hilliers. The head of the procession started amidst
tremendous cheers from the crowd, but we who came on behind heard some
curious comments upon this popular manifestation. Knowing that there
would be a considerable delay in getting the train off, I walked instead
of driving. I was accompanied by Lord ----, who was never averse to
having his little joke. "He bien, mon ami," he said to an old
weather-beaten sailor, who was short of his left leg--"he bien, mon ami,
nous voila reconcilies."

"Oui, oui, je t'en fiche," was the answer; "mais puisqu'ils en sont a se
faire des m'amours, ils devaient bien me rendre ma jambe que j'ai perdue
dans leurs querelles."

"Imbecile," remarked an old soldier-looking man, who, though old, was
evidently younger than the first speaker, and who was short of an arm,
"ta jambe ne t'irait pas plus que mon bras; c'etait ta jambe de garcon."

"C'est vrai," nodded the other philosophically; "tout de meme, c'est
drole que nous nous soyons battus comme des chiens," pointing across the
Channel in the direction of England, "pour en arriver a cela. Si le
vieux (Napoleon I.) revenait, il serait rudement colere." And I may say
at once that, notwithstanding the friendly attitude throughout of the
rural as well as of the Parisian populations, that was the underlying
sentiment. "Waterloo est arrange