injury. Its grandmother rushed out of the door of her cottage to take it;
but the Queen, standing up in her calash and extending her arms, called
out that the child was hers, and that destiny had given it to her, to
console her, no doubt, until she should have the happiness of having one
herself. "Is his mother alive?" asked the Queen. "No, Madame; my
daughter died last winter, and left five small children upon my hands." "I
will take this one, and provide for all the rest; do you consent?" "Ah,
Madame, they are too fortunate," replied the cottager; "but Jacques is a
bad boy. I hope he will stay with you!" The Queen, taking little Jacques
upon her knee, said that she would make him used to her, and gave orders
to proceed. It was necessary, however, to shorten the drive, so violently
did Jacques scream, and kick the Queen and her ladies.

The arrival of her Majesty at her apartments at Versailles, holding the
little rustic by the hand, astonished the whole household; he cried out
with intolerable shrillness that he wanted his grandmother, his brother
Louis, and his sister Marianne; nothing could calm him. He was taken away
by the wife of a servant, who was appointed to attend him as nurse. The
other children were put to school. Little Jacques, whose family name was
Armand, came back to the Queen two days afterwards; a white frock trimmed
with lace, a rose-coloured sash with silver fringe, and a hat decorated
with feathers, were now substituted for the woollen cap, the little red
frock, and the wooden shoes. The child was really very beautiful. The
Queen was enchanted with him; he was brought to her every morning at nine
o'clock; he breakfasted and dined with her, and often even with the King.
She liked to call him my child,

[This little unfortunate was nearly twenty in 1792; the fury of the people
and the fear of being thought a favourite of the Queen's had made him the
most sanguinary terrorist of Versailles. He was killed at the battle of