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Updated: May 5, 2025
Th' tailor d'ye mind is a rivolutionist in disguise, an' has come down fr'm Paris f'r to injooce th' young man to take th' vacancy. 'Fourteen, six, thirty-three. How'll ye have th' pants made, Impror? says th' tailor. 'Wan or two hip pockets? says he. "'Two hips, says young Napolyon. 'What do ye mean be that"? he says. "'Thirty-eight, siventeen, two sides, wan watch, buckle behind.
What is it? 'I cannot move me leg. 'Curses on the Cavalry. 'Have ye got th' time? 'Oh me knee, how it aches me. 'Ha ha. Ha ha. Ha ha. Ha ha. 'Veev, th' Impror. 'Right about face, shouldher ar-rms, right shouldher shift arms. March. A harsh, metallic voice in the distance: 'Gin-rals, leftnant Gin'rals, officers, sooz- officers, an' men . 'Tis th' boy's father.
Napolyeon Bonyparte, th' Impror iv th' Fr-rinch, had manny carryin's on, I've heerd tell; an' ivry man knows that, whin Jawn Sullivan wasn't in th' r-ring, he was no incyclopedja f'r intelligence. No wan thried to kiss him, though. They knew betther. "An' Hobson 'll larn. He's young yet, th' Loot is; an' he's goin' out to th' Ph'lippeens to wurruk f'r Cousin George.
A little later a number iv Americans in private life who wint over to rayceive in person th' thanks iv th' Impror f'r what they'd done f'r him talkin' ar-round th' bar at th' Union League Club, were foorced be th' warmth iv their rayciption to take refuge in th' house iv th' Rooshyan counsel.
He don't look to be much account havin' a hackin' cough all through the piece, but down undherneath he wants to be impror iv th' Fr-rinch like his father befure him, d'ye mind, on'y he don't dare to go out f'r it f'r fear iv catchin' a bad cold on his chist. Th' Austhreeches that has charge iv him don't like th' idee iv havin' him know what kind iv man his father was.
This wan is called 'The Little Eagle, an' 'tis about th' son iv Napolyon th' Impror iv th' Fr-rinch, th' first wan, not th' wan I had th' fight about in Schwartzmeister's in eighteen hundhred an' siventy. Bad cess to that man, he was no good. I often wondher why I shtud up f'r him whin he had hardly wan frind in th' counthry. But I did, an' ye might say I'm a vethran iv th' Napolyonic Wars.
Last month th' Jap'nese Governmint wrote to th' Prisidint: 'Most gracious an' bewilderin' Majesty, Impror iv th' Sun, austere an' patient Father iv th' Stars, it has come to our benign attintion that in wan iv ye'er populous domains our little prattlin' childher who ar-re over forty years iv age ar-re not admitted to th' first reader classes in th' public schools.
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