celebrated escape on the eve of the day appointed for his execution,
after the Hundred Days, when his wife came and took his place, and
brought him garments to escape in. But oftenest of all we used to go to
a bookseller's in the Rue Saint-Andre-des-Arts, who was a great friend
of Fleury's, and we were always sure to find either him or his charming
wife at home.

Fleury's friendship for this bookseller was indeed the cause of a
comical adventure. In the confusion of the first few days of the
Revolution of 1830, the gentleman in question appeared before us with
white belt and a sword over his civilian's dress. "Look here, Fleury,"
said he, "what use can I be to you today?" Fleury considered for a
minute, and then he said he really didn't quite see, but that after all
he thought nobody had troubled their heads about the Prefecture of
Police. "I'll be off there," said my bookseller, and off he went,
appointed himself Prefect of Police, and performed all his functions for
several days. I have never heard of him since.

Turn about with these walks, too, we had lessons in gymnastics, of which
science a certain Colonel Amoros was the apostle. This worthy colonel
gave prizes to everybody, so as to make his classes popular. These
prizes took the form of collars, inscribed in large painted letters with
the particular merit of the pupil rewarded, such as agility, courage,
strength, &c. One pupil was given a prize for "hidden virtue." After the
gymnastic lessons came riding lessons, for which we were taken to the
Cirque Olympique, I and my two elder brothers being always put in the
charge of a single tutor. But as he invariably found the riding school
too cold, he used to go and shut himself up in the manager's room, and
leave us to the tender care of Laurent Franconi and the rough riders,
which amounted to leaving us to ourselves. This icy cold arena, in the