Let it be Buonaparte, which is sort of high-sounding--it makes a
mouthful, as it were."

"If I drop the 'u' the autograph will be shorter, and I'll gain time
writing it," said Napoleon. "It shall be Bonaparte without 'u.'"

"Humph!" ejaculated Bourrienne. "Bonaparte without me! I like that.
Might as well talk of Dr. Johnson without Boswell."

Bonaparte now went to Nice as chief of batallion in the army of
Italy; but having incurred the displeasure of a suspicious home
government, he was shortly superseded, and lived in retirement with
his family at Marseilles for a brief time. Here he fell in love
again, and would have married Mademoiselle Clery, whom he afterwards
made Queen of Sweden, had he not been so wretchedly poor.

"This, my dear," he said, sadly, to Mademoiselle Clery, "is the
beastly part of being the original ancestor of a family instead of a
descendant. I've got to make the fortune which will enrich
posterity, while I'd infinitely prefer having a rich uncle somewhere
who'd have the kindness to die and leave me a million. There's
Joseph--lucky man. He's gone and got married. He can afford it. He
has me to fall back on, but I--I haven't anybody to fall back on, and
so, for the second time in my life, must give up the only girl I ever
loved."

With these words Napoleon left Mademoiselle Clery, and returned to
Paris in search of employment.

"If there's nothing else to do, I can disguise myself as a Chinaman