314 AUDUBON 



bowed, and presented his beautiful wife. As soon as I had 

 untied my portfolio, and a print was seen, both exclaimed, 

 " Ah ! c'est bien beau ! " I was asked if I did not know 

 Charles Bonaparte, and when I said yes, they again both 

 exclaimed, " Ah ! c'est lui, the gentleman of whom we have 

 heard so much, the man of the woods, who has made so 

 many and such wonderful drawings." The Prince regretted 

 very much there were so few persons in France able to 

 subscribe to such a work, and said I must not expect more 

 than six or eight names in Paris. He named all whom he 

 and his lady knew, and then said it would give him pleas- 

 ure to add his name to my list; he wrote it himself, next 

 under that of the Duke of Rutland. This prince, son of 

 the famous marshal, is about thirty years of age, appar- 

 ently delicate, pale, slender, and yet good-looking, entirely 

 devoted to Natural History; his wife a beautiful young 

 woman, not more than twenty, extremely graceful and 

 polite. They both complimented me on the purity of my 

 French, and wished me all success. My room at the hotel 

 being very cramped, I have taken one at L'Hotel de France, 

 large, clean, and comfortable, for which I pay twenty-five 

 sous a day. We are within gun-shot of Les Jardins des 

 Tuileries. The retraite is just now beating. This means 

 that a few drummers go through the streets at eight o'clock 

 in the evening, beating their drums, to give notice to all 

 soldiers to make for their quarters. 



September 12. I went early to Rue Richelieu to see the 

 librarian of the King, Mr. Van Praet, a small, white-haired 

 gentleman, who assured me in the politest manner imagin- 

 able that it was out of the question to subscribe for such a 

 work ; he, however, gave me a card of introduction to M. 

 Barbier, a second librarian, belonging to the King's private 

 library at the Louvre. On my way I posted my letters for 

 London ; the inland postage of a single letter from Paris 

 to London is twenty-four sous, and the mail for London 

 leaves four days in the week. M. Barbier was out, but 



