"Curious fact," said Napoleon. "In times of peace if a man needs a
tonic you give him iron, and it builds him up; but in war if you give
the troops iron it bowls 'em down. Look at those Austrians; they've
got nervous prostration of the worst sort."

"They got too much iron," said Lannes.

"Too much tonic is worse than none. A man can stand ten or twenty
grains of iron, but forty pounds is rather upsetting."

"True," acquiesced Napoleon. "Well, it was a great fight, and I have
only one regret. I do wish you'd had a Kodak to take a few snap-
shots of me at that Bridge of Lodi. I'd like to send some home to
the family. It would have reminded brother Joseph of old times to
see me dashing over that bridge, prodding its planks with my heels
until it fairly creaked with pain. It would have made a good
frontispiece for Bourrienne's book too. And now, my dear Lannes,
what shall we do with ourselves for the next five days? Get out your
Baedecker and let us see this imperial city of the Lombards."

"There's one matter we must arrange first," said Augereau; "we
haven't any stable accommodations to speak of."

"What's the matter with the stalls at the opera-house?" suggested
Napoleon. "As I told the troops the other day, it's the biggest
theatre in the world. You ought to be able to stable the horses
there and lodge the men in the boxes."

"The horses would look well sitting in orchestra chairs, wouldn't
they?" said Augereau. "It's not feasible. As for the boxes, they're