"I wonder if CHARLEMAGNE had a massage man in his suite?" I say, "and who
was his Doctor? Now if he had had Dr. BRANDIS, I believe he would have been
alive at this day. But we cannot have everything. CHARLEMAGNE had the Iron
Crown of Lombardy; we have Dr. BRANDIS."

"Y e e s," said WILLIAM, still gloating over his own train of thought;
"eef I like I break a shentleman's ribs."

Sometimes WILLIAM'S smile, contracting, breaks into a whistle, horribly
out of tune. He rather fancies his musical powers, and is proud of his
intimate acquaintance with the fashionable _chansons_ current in London
to-day, or as he puts it, "Vat dey shings at de Carrelton Clob." Then he
warbles a line of the happily long-forgotten "Champagne CHARLIE," with
intervals of "Oh what a surprise!" He sings both to the same tune, and
fortunately knows only two lines of one and a single line of the other.

Try to bring him back to CAROLO MAGNO.

"Wouldn't you," I ask "give all you are worth to have lived in the time of
CHARLEMAGNE? Suppose some day you walked into this room and discovered him
sitting on his marble throne as OTHO found him with the Iron Crown on his
head and his right hand grasping the imperial sceptre, what would you do?"

"I would break hees ribs," said WILLIAM, his face illumined by a sudden
flash of delighted anticipation.

Alack! we are thinking of two personages sundered by centuries. My mind
dwells on CHARLEMAGNE, whilst WILLIAM is evidently thinking of Champagne
CHARLIE.