"I have arrived," he said, with a grim smile. "Even my creditors are
glad to see me, and I'll show them that I have not forgotten them by
running up a few more bills."

This he did, going to the same tradesmen that he had patronized in
his days of poverty. To his hatter, whom he owed for his last five
hats, he said:

"They call me haughty here; they say I am cold. Well, I am cold.
I've shivered on the Alps several times since I was here last, and it
has chilled my nature. It has given me the grip, so to speak, and
when I lose my grip the weather will be even colder. Give me a hat,
my friend."

"What size?" asked the hatter.

"The same," said Bonaparte, with a frown. "Why do you ask?"

"I was told your head had swelled," returned the hatter, meekly.

"They shall pay for this," murmured Napoleon, angrily.

"I am glad," said the hatter, with a sigh. "I was wondering who'd
pay for it."

"Oh, you were, eh?" said Napoleon. "Well, wonder no more. Get out
your books."

The hatter did so.