spoke, the Minister of the United States made his appearance, followed
by a gigantic warrior in the garb of his native woods.

Knowing his place as Minister of a sovereign state, (yielding even then
in dignity to none, as it surpasses all now in dignity, in valor, in
honesty, in strength, and civilization,) the Doctor nodded to the Queen
of France, but kept his hat on as he faced the French monarch, and did
not cease whittling the cane he carried in his hand.

"I was waiting for you, sir," the King said, peevishly, in spite of the
alarmed pressure which the Queen gave his royal arm.

"The business of the Republic, sire, must take precedence even of your
Majesty's wishes," replied Dr. Franklin. "When I was a poor printer's
boy and ran errands, no lad could be more punctual than poor Ben
Franklin; but all other things must yield to the service of the United
States of North America. I have done. What would you, Sire?" and the
intrepid republican eyed the monarch with a serene and easy dignity,
which made the descendant of St. Louis feel ill at ease.

"I wished to--to say farewell to Tatua before his departure," said Louis
XVI., looking rather awkward. "Approach, Tatua." And the gigantic Indian
strode up, and stood undaunted before the first magistrate of the French
nation: again the feeble monarch quailed before the terrible simplicity
of the glance of the denizen of the primaeval forests.

The redoubted chief of the Nose-ring Indians was decorated in his
war-paint, and in his top-knot was a peacock's feather, which had been
given him out of the head-dress of the beautiful Princess of Lamballe.
His nose, from which hung the ornament from which his ferocious tribe