Volume 98 — TWO HEADS NOT BETTER THAN ONE!

There is not the slightest truth in the report that the following short story, said to have been written by MM. Erckmann and Chatrian since their quarrel, will be more fully developed before republication.

MOSCOW!

Note.—This title is believed to have been furnished by M. Erckmann, but will probably be changed to The Baby's Niece, by M. Chatrian.

Chapter I. (By M. E.)

Napoleon regarded the burning town with a feeling of dismay. He had counted upon the ancient Russian capital as a basis of support when the time should come to retire. As he looked at the fire, luridly reflected in the snow, Marie approached him and fell upon her knees.

"Sire!" she cried, "A boon! I ask you to save Kosmof! I beg of you my lover's life!"

The Man of Destiny gazed upon her with a cold smile, full of cruel meaning, and replied, "Life for life—you know my conditions!" Marie gave a piercing shriek and sank into unconsciousness.

Chapter II. (By M. C.)

To wake again and find the sun shining brightly on her own Alsatian home! Yes, all the nonsense about Napoleon and Moscow had been a dream, more—a nightmare! The good Curé was playing with the niece of her baby brother. Jules was hard at work cutting down apples in the orchard, which were soon to become cider in the press of the farmstead.

At Sea with his Story.

"My Father," said Marie, with a coquettish toss of her pretty head, "and so you think Jules too good for me?"

"Scarcely that, my daughter," replied the amiable old Priest, with a sweet, calm smile; "but I feel that you must do a great deal to be worthy of so brave a man."

"Brave?" echoed Marie. "Why, what do we want with bravery in these piping times of peace? Nowadays we have no Napoleon—all is tranquil."

"You are indeed right, my daughter," returned the old Priest, as he walked towards the chapel. "We do live in peaceful days—there is, indeed, no Napoleon!"

Chapter III. (By M. E.)

"Liar!" shouted Buonaparte, coming up at the moment, at the head of the remnant of his Army. "I will soon show you whether we live in tranquil times or no!"

And, ordering up a cannon, Marie, Jules, and the Priest were tied to the wheels.

"Mercy!" they implored.

There was a flash, an explosion, and Marie, Jules, and the Priest were blown to atoms.

No one remained save Napoleon!

Chapter IV. (By M. C.)

Yes, Napoleon, and one other—the Niece of the Baby! She was a fine strapping wench of twenty. Shocked by the cruel outrage committed in her quiet Alsatian home, this brave maiden seized the family blunderbuss, and fired. It burst with such violence that both Napoleon and herself were killed on the spot. Nay, more—thousands within miles! Besides, at this moment there was an epidemic raging, that, in one single instant, killed the Army, and all the Russians, and, in fact, everybody! There!

Note by M. E.—My honoured confrère is a spiteful pig! Note by M. C.—My esteemed colleague is a demented donkey!

P.S. by M. E.—Pooh! P.S. by M.C.—Yah!

NOTICE.—Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no exception.