VII. But our childish ideas were not of so far-reaching a nature. It was
the splendour displayed that interested us--the dresses, the carriages,
and so on, of the princes and ambassadors who came from all parts of the
world to greet the opening of the new monarch's reign. Numbers of
artists solicited my father's permission to do his portrait, in the gold
and ermine robes of a prince of the blood which he wore at the
coronation, and our pet amusement at the time was to go and see papa
"sitting as Pharamond." I said Pharamond, like my elders, although my
own historical knowledge was of the most elementary description. To be
frank, I was exceedingly backward, and have always remained so. My
mother had taught me to read, but beyond that I had reached the age of
six knowing nothing or hardly anything. But I was a very good rider and
went out alone on a pony Lord Bristol had given my father, which I rode
boldly, and I might even say recklessly. The pony's name was Polynice.
He and I understood each other perfectly, and I was his friend to the
last. I took care he should end his days in the park at St. Cloud, where
he roamed in freedom, with a stable of his own to retire into if the
fancy took him. Often and often I have been to see him, in that same
stable, which he ended by never leaving except to come and greet us, and
warm himself in the sunshine. He died, there, fortunately for himself,
full of years, just before the pleasant revolutionary occurrences of
1848, in which he would certainly have had his share. But my father
desired me to be something more than a mere horseman. He got me a tutor,
and from that day out, for several years, my recollections are divided,
to the exclusion of everything else, between my education and my life
with my family. My tutor was called M. Trognon, and his name brought
many

[Illustration: Looks a little like a courtroom unfortunately without a
caption.]