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Pages Prom My Scrap "Book. THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. A favorite amusement of Joseph ine and the great Napoleon was a game called “Prisoner” —the same as what English school boys call “French and English,” or “deals.” There is something very striking in the account of the last opportunity they had of indulging in this relaxa tion: ‘ 1 The interval between the fifteenth of August, and the twenty-seventh of September was passed chiefly at St. Cloud, and might be called the last of Josephine’s happiness in Napo leon’s society. Only a few days be fore his departure, Josephine and Napoleon, with their usual familiars, played a final game at the favorite amusement of ‘prisoners.’ It was quite dark before the party fin ished and footmen with torches were in attendance to give light to the players. The effect could not have been without interest; the blaze of thq torches now throwing bold, broad and rich illumination upon the il lustrious group as they assembled in front of the chateau, previous to each run; again flinging scattered and flickering lights upon the lawn, the trees, flowers and rich dresses of the ladies, as the torch-bearers dispersed following irregularly the course of the runners. How closely resembling the lives of some of the nobles there —this crossing, commingling, disap pearing sometimes in light, anon in darkness; here all started away amid brightness arid expectation—there a figure outstripping all others only to be lost in the gloom. But there was then no moralizing; all were joyous and for the moment artless, as if it had not been a court. Napoleon as usual fell, though only once, as he was running for Josephine. Being thus taken captive, he was placed in ban, which he broke as soon as he recovered breath; set again to run ning, and released empress amid loud huzzas from his own and shouts of ‘Fair play’ from the opposite party. Thus ended the last repetition of youthful sports.” From what we know of the domes tic life of Napoleon and Josephine no doubt can be entertained of his attachment for that lady, but his mind was constantly haunted by dreams of ambition. He panted for an heir, and wished that the mother should be eminently illustrious in point of birth, so that mankind might be inspired with respect both for him self and his progeny. Accordingly in an evil hour, he pitched on a daughter of the emperor of Austria, and resolved on divorcing a consort whose marriage had been crowned by the pope, who had been the wife of Napoleon during fourteen whole years, and could not be separated from him without a breach of his own express law prohibiting every thing of this kind in the imperial family. No sooner was this design resolved upon than the necessity for com municating the painful fact to Jo sephine became apparent. The 30th of November, 1809, arrived, which Napoleon appears to have destined for declaring his final determination to Josephine. She had wept all day; WATSON’S WEEKLY JEFFERSONIAN. they were to dine together as us ual, and to conceal her tears, the em press wore a large white hat, fast ened under her chin, which with its deep front, shaded the whole of the upper part of the face. Napoleon also had shown marks of the strong est agitation; he scarcely spoke to any one, but with arms folded, con tinued at intervals to pace his library alone; from time to time a convulsive movement, attended with a hectic flush, passed for an instant across his features, and at table when he raised his eye it was only to look by stealth upon the empress with an ex pression of the deepest regret. The dinner was removed untouched — neither tasted a morsel; and the on ly use to which Napoleon turned his knife was to strike mechanically up on the edge of his glass, which he appeared to do unconsciously and as one whose thoughts were painful ly pre-occupied. Everything during this sad repast seemed to presage the impending catastrophe. Even the officers of the court who were in attendance stood in motionless ex pectancy, like men who look upon a sight they feel portends evil, though what they know not; not a sound was heard beyond the noise of plac ing and removing untasted viands, and the monotonous tinkling already noticed; for the emperor spoke only once to ask a question, without giving any attention to the reply. “We dined together as usual,” says Josephine; “I struggled with my eyes; I uttered not a single word during that sorrowful meal, and he broke silence but once, to ask an at tendant about the weather. My sun shine, I saw, had passed away; the storm burst quickly. Directly after coffee, Bonaparte dismissed every once, and I remained alone with him.” The evident change in Bonaparte’s domestic arrangements, which on this day first took place, seemed to indi cate to Josephine that her caresses were no longer indispensable to the happiness of her husband. She had risen as usual from table with Na poleon, whom she slowly followed into the saloon, and with a handkerchief pressed upon her mouth, to restrain the sobbing which, though inaudible, shook her whole frame. The emper or having drunk his coffee returned the cup to the page, an dby a sign in dicated his wish to be alone, shut ting with his own hand the door of the saloon. We know from Josephine’s own words what passed during this secret interview: “I watched in the chang ing expression of his countenance that struggle which was in his soul. At length his features settled into stern resolve. I saw that my hour was near; a shuddering horror came over me. He took my hand and placed it upon his heart, gazed upon me a moment, then pronounced these fear ful words: ‘Josephine! My excel lent Josephine! thou knowest if I have loved thee! To thee, to thee alone, do I owe the only moments of happiness which I have enjoyed in this world. Josephine! my destiny overmasters my will. My dearest af fections must be silent before the in terests of France!’ ‘Say no more/ I had still strength sufficient to re ply: ‘1 was prepared for this, but the blow is not less mortal.’ More 1 could not utter; I cannot tell what passed within me. 1 believe my screams were loud. I thought reason had fled. I became unconscious of everything, and on returning to my senses found I had been carried to my chamber.” When Josephine thus fainted, Na poleon hastily opened the door of the saloon and called to two individ uals who had remained in the dining room. The opening of the door al lowed them to see the empress on the floor, insensible yet still speaking in broken murmur: “0 no! you can not surely do it! you would not kill me!” M. de Beaumont entered on a sign from his master, and lifted in his arms the hapless Josephine, now perfectly unconscious of all that was passing. The emperor himself, taking a taper from the chimney piece, lighted the way to the em press’s sleeping room. Here Napo leon dismissed both of his compan ions, and laying the empress on the bed rang for her women who, on en tering, found him hanging over her with an expression of deepest anx iety. A RATHER COMMON STORY. He was killed in the Dalton wreck a few weeks ago. A head-flagman he was and as the freight trains crashed his body was cut into pieces and his life hurled into the great beyond. Just a common story, is it not? Just a common flagman gone, just a common laborer dead, you say. "Yes, that is the way the world looks upon the death of the monotonously com mon laborer. But of that simple story the half has not been told and will never be told just as it is un known in ten thousand similar cases. Behind Clyde Colbert in overalls is the picture of a rare young man, the throbbing of an earnest heart, the scintillating of a mind, the strength of a character even though he was wearing the “hoddengrey” at the time of his death. Behind that story is the common but pitiable struggle between the nobleness of an ambition and the cruel hand of Poverty. For awhile it seemed that ambition was the conquerer. Only the slow, dead heave of his will power had sent him to college. Through the Freshman, through the Sophomore and half way through the Junior classes he worked his way, leaving behind the brilliant records of high marks made and medals won. But here father "died, and poverty called him home where he donned a pair of overalls and mounted the top of a box car as flagman in order to keep the wolf away. Then came the catastrophe in his life’s drama, and he died the vic tim of chance and poverty. Yes, it is a common story. Noth ing unusual. But somehow we trust that the widening thoughts of men will some day realize that such is not merely the ordinary, that such is not the withering of the individual and the more and the more of the world; that conditions will be such as to Tender the individual life free from the greed of modern commercialism any that he who believes that life is more than meat and the body more than raiment will always have an opportunity to realize his ideals. We merely wished to drop these few lines to that young man’s mem ory.—Walker County Messenger. BOYS, POOR AND RIOH. Principal MacQueary, of the high schools in St. Louis, delivered an address before the students of the University of Chicago a few days ago, in which he undertook to anal yze the bad boy. His conclusion was that there were just as many rich bad boys as poor bad boys in the world. “The bad boy,” he said, “is victim of his environment. Not all of the bad boys are to be found in the slum districts. The pampered, spoiled child of the rich who spends his time at the race track is just as much a parasite on society as the bad boy of the slums. The condition of the bad rich boy is due to too much coddling and indulgence.” Mr. MacQueary’s astute utterance is equal to saying, in paraphrase of a popular expression, “Boys is boys, they are pretty much the same the world over and in every section of it. A great writer has said that every boy is born a barbarian and must be civilized. The degree of his civiliza -tion depends on his parents and his environment. Wealth or comparative poverty cuts no figure in this matter, so far as molding the boy’s character is concerned. Poorest parents may rear the most refined sons, or richest parents the most depraved. Environment and home influence are the most potent factors in the formation of charac ter. In the slums the necessities of ex istence may induce the boy to vio lations of the moral and statute laws. In the gilded palaces of the rich the desire for novelty and amusement may lead the boy to violations of the moral if not the statute laws byway of killing time. But human history has shown that good boys, making useful men may grow up from either poor or rich stock. Mere money counts far less with boys than any of the other human kinds, consider ing the boys in themselves and with out reference to environment. The healthy boy begins life close to the earth. He is to a degree savage in his young nature. While his sister, very largely, inherits and exemplifies in her feelings and conduct the soft ening influences of the ages, the boy is born to strenuousness and protest against restraint, and must be edu cated out of these characteristics. If his parentage is good—poor or rich doesn’t matter —and his environments make the uplift, the rounding of the plastic boy character goes on rapid ly. But neither poverty nor wealth, in itself, makes or develops charac ter. No boy is good or bad because he is rich or poor. The boy born to independence ought really to make the better citizen, because he has bet ter opportunities, but there isn’t any thing to show that that is the case. In fact, poor boys have achieved the highest places in American history. The average boy has gold in his make-up. The thing to do is to find and refine it, and not permit it to become dross from inattention.—Sa vannah Morning News. PAGE THREE