dmired.
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. by the Author of “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 Phoenix Coyotes Barn infantile hilarity in the alleys of the magnificent garden of Le Notre (from which Niblo’s garden has been copied Edinson Cavani Drakt 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 Dame Winnipeg Jets 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 USA Team 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 Maillot Hongrie Pas CHer the gardens, and tell his Excellency Doctor Franklin that the King waits.” The Bishop ran off, with more San Diego Chargers Kvinnor than youthful agility, to seek the United States’ Minister. “These Republicans,” he added, confidentially, and with something of a supercilious look, “are but rude courtiers, methinks.”
“Nay,” interposed the lovely Antoinette, “rude courtiers, Sire, they may be; but the world boasts not of more accomplished Dame St. Louis Blues gentlemen. I have seen no grandee of Versailles that has the noble bearing of this American envoy and his suite. They have the refinement of the Old World, with all the simple elegance of the New. Though they have p |