more than half way across the ocean, whereupon it seemed im- 
possible to procure another pair of shoes. I felt quite overcome & 
at the idea of the sorrow my poor Hortense would suffer, as fo 
also at the danger to which her health might be exposed by fa 
confinement in my miserable little cabin. At this moment our fm 
good friend, the old sailor, entered and inquired the cause of ( 
our distress. Hortense, sobbing all the while, eagerly informed / 
him, that she could no more go upon deck, for her shoes were “f 
worn out, and mamma had no others to give her. “Nonsense,” 
said the worthy seaman, ‘is that all? I have an old pair some 
where in my chest; I will go and get them. You, madame, can 
cut them to shape, and I will splice them up as well as need 
be.’ Without waiting for a reply, away hastened the kind saiJor 
in search of his old shoes; these he soon after brought to us 
with a triumphant air, and they were received by Hortense 
with demonstrations of the most lively joy. We finally se{ to 
work with all zeal, and before the day closed, my daughter could 
resume her delightful duties of supplying their evening’s diver- 
sion to the crew. I again repeat, never was a present received 
with greater thankfulness. It has since been a matter of self- 
reproach that I did not particularly inquire into the name and 
history of our benefactor. It would have been gratifying for 
me to have done something for him when afterward means were 
In my power.” 
In 1794, when Josephine awaited her execution, while in 
Prison, numerous friends gathered around her with tears, while 
the heartless jailer came and took away her mattress, saying 
with a sneer, that she would need it no longer, as her head 
Was soon to repose upon the soft pillow of the guillotine. As 
the hour of execution drew nearer, Josephine became perfectly 
calm, cheerful in spirit; she looked affectionately upon the 
weeping group gathered around her, and, recalling at the mo- 
ment the prediction of the aged Negress, she gently said, smil- 
ing, “We have no cause for alarm, my friends; I am not to 
be executed, for it is written in the decrees of fate that I am ; 
yet to be Queen of France.” Hereupon some of her friends > 
thought that the suppressed anguish of her heart had driven 
her to delirium, which caused them to weep more bitterly. But 
one of the ladies, Madame d’Aiguillon, was a little irritated at 
the pleasantry which she deemed so ill-timed. “When, then, 
Madame, do you not appoint your household?” “Ah, that is 
true,” replied Josephine. “I had forgotten. Well, you, m 
dear, shall be my maid of honor: I Promise you the situation. 
They both lived to witness the fulfillment of this promise. . 
Josephine, though reared in a Provincial home, was accus- 
tomed, from infancy, to associate with gentlemen and ladies 
who were familiar with the etiquette of the highest rank in 
society, and whose conversation was intellectual and improv- 
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