firstly lodge their sure challenge

to you, Louis," said
she; "I will now show you a merry one. Look at it--isn't it charming?"

The prince cast a hasty, absent-minded look at the cup, and nodded
gravely. Louise laughed gayly.

"You see, Louis," said she, "that this is the exact counterpart of the
picture of the Emperor Napoleon, who, while riding over the Alps,
encounters on their summit the great spirits of Hannibal and Caesar.
Here is a little Napoleon, who is not climbing up the Alps, but climbing
down from his bed, and who, on this occasion, meets a black spirit, in
the person of a chimney-sweep. This is the history of the great and of
the little Napoleon; the great meets Hannibal, the little the
chimney-sweep."

"Am I the little Napoleon?" asked the boy, gravely.

"Yes, Louis, you are, and I will now tell you the story of this cup.
One day, when we were all still in Paris, and while your great uncle was
still Emperor of France--one day, you met in your room a little Savoyard
who had just crept out of the chimney in his black dress, his black
broom in his hand. You cried out with horror, and were about to run
away, but I held you back and told you that these chimney-sweeps were
poor boys, and that their parents were so poor that they could not
support their children, but were compelled to send them to Paris to earn
their bread by creeping into and cleaning our hot and dirty chimneys,



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