The rest of the story is well known to everybody.  The Red Man went over to the Bourbons, like the scoundrel that he is; France was crushed; and the old soldiers, who were no longer of any account, were deprived of their dues and sent back to their homes, in order that their places might be given to a lot of nobles who couldn’t even march—­it was pitiful to see them try!  Then Napoleon was seized, through treachery, and the English nailed him to a rock, ten thousand feet above the earth, on a desert island in the great ocean.  There he must stay until the Red Man, for the good of France, gives him back his power.  It is said by some that he is dead.  Oh, yes!  Dead!  That shows how little they know him!  They only tell that lie to cheat the people and keep peace in their shanty of a government.  The truth of the matter is that his friends have left him there in the desert to fulfil a prophecy that was made about him—­for I have forgotten to tell you that the name Napoleon really means “Lion of the Desert.”

This that I have told you is gospel truth; and all the other things that you hear about the Emperor are foolish stories with no human likeliness.  Because, you see, God never gave to any other man born of woman the power to write his name in red across the whole world—­and the world will remember him forever.  Long live Napoleon, the father of the soldiers and the people!