But how had those two young Erows become equainted with the noble
Marcus?--That is a mistry we must elucydate in a futur vollam.
THE STARS AND STRIPES.
THE AUTHOR OR "THE LAST OF THE MULLIGANS," "PILOT," ETC
I.
The King of France was walking on the terrace of Versailles; the
fairest, not only of Queens, but of women, hung fondly on the Royal arm;
while the children of France were indulging in their infantile hilarity
in the alleys of the magnificent garden of Le Notre (from which Niblo's
garden has been copied in our own Empire city of New York), and playing
at leap-frog with their uncle, the Count of Provence; gaudy courtiers,
emlazoned with orders, glittered in the groves, and murmured frivolous
talk in the ears of high-bred beauty.
"Marie, my beloved," said the ruler of France, taking out his watch,
"'tis time that the Minister of America should be here."
"Your Majesty should know the time," replied Marie Antoinette, archly,
and in an Austrian accent; "is not my Royal Louis the first watchmaker
in his empire?"
The King cast a pleased glance at his repeater, and kissed with courtly
grace the fair hand of her who had made him the compliment. "My Lord
Bishop of Autun," said he to Monsieur de Talleyrand Perigord, who
followed the royal pair, in his quality of arch-chamberlain of the
empire, "I pray you look through the gardens, and tell his Excellency
Doctor Franklin that the King waits.
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