in forced marches, the magic of his 

 name and his eloquent proclamations 

 opening one city after another, he 

 found his beloved violets everywhere. 

 The ladies assembled to meet him 

 wore violet-coloured gowns and car- 

 ried great bunches of these flowers, 

 which they showered upon Napoleon 

 as he mounted the broad steps of the 

 palace. Bushels and bushels of violets 

 were thrown beneath his feet as he 

 walked, but alas! though the return 

 was happily accomplished, the stay 

 was almost as brief as the life of a 

 flower. The sad word "Waterloo" 

 closes a career quite unexampled for 

 its heights and depths, where this 

 bewildered, despairing man lost every- 

 thing save honour and life. At the 

 time of his return, little pictures of a 

 bunch of violets were sold everywhere 

 upon the streets. Among the flowers 

 and leaves were to be found profiles 

 59 



