,
told me I was mistaken and that her royal mother-in-law was, in that
respect, quite the equal of her sister.

During my acquaintance with Madame Murat, Napoleon III. was on the
throne of France, and I learned from our many friendly chats that her
relations with her distinguished kinspeople were of the most cordial
character; and I am informed that for many years the Emperor gave her an
annuity. Hanging in her drawing-room, whose contents were replete with
historic association, were two handsome portraits of the Emperor and
Empress of France, which she called to my attention as recent gifts from
her royal relatives. That prince of hosts, Gouverneur Kemble, once told
me an amusing incident _apropos_ of Achille Murat's resourcefulness
under peculiar difficulties. On one occasion quite a number of foreign
guests appeared at the Frenchman's door and, although Florida is a land
"flowing with milk and honey," he was sorely perplexed to know what
would be "toothsome and succulent" to serve for their repast. Suddenly
an idea flashed upon him. He owned a large flock of sheep and, nothing
daunted, gave immediate orders to have the tips of their ears cut off.
These were served in due form, and his guests departed in total
ignorance of what they had eaten but fully convinced that America
produced the choicest of viands.

Upon one of her numerous visits to France, Madame Murat was accompanied
to the Louvre by Mr. Francis Porteus Corbin, a Virginian whose
contemporaries proudly asserted was an adornment to any court. While
they were engaged in viewing the works of art, Madame Murat was joined
by Jerome Bonaparte, to whom she formally presented Mr. Corbin. When the
opportunity arose Bonaparte inquired of his kinswoman who "the elegant
gentleman" was. The ready response was: "Mr. Corbin, of Virginia."
"Well," was the ejaculation, "I had no idea there was so much elegance
in America."

I think these pages will show that all through life I have had a decided
fancy for older men and women. I can hardly account for this taste
except by the fact that my predilections have always been of a decidedly
historical character. As another instance, I especially enjoyed my
meeting in the far South with Judge Thomas Randall, who made his home in
Tallahassee, but who was originally from Annapolis. He did not allow
advanced years to interfere with his social tastes, but frequently
accompanied us to parties, where his vivacity rendered him one of th