despair would be cowardly; suicide does not suit my principles nor the
rank I have holden in the world. I am a man condemned to live." He sighed
almost to sobbing;--then, after several minutes' silence, he said with a
bitter smile--"After all they say, a living camp-boy is worth more than a
dead emperor,"--and immediately retired into the palace. It was the last
time De Bausset ever saw his master.

* * * * *


SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS


* * * * *


APRIL FOOLS.


This day, beyond all contradiction,
This day is all thine own, Queen Fiction!
And thou art building castles boundless
Of groundless joys, and griefs as groundless;
Assuring beauties that the border
Of their new dress is out of order;
And schoolboys that their shoes want tying;
And babies that their dolls are dying.
Lend me, lend me, some disguise;
I will tell prodigious lies:
All who care for what I say