Her children loved her; but they feared her too, and never thought of going contrary to her desires or commands. Late in life Napoleon once told a boy of whom he was fond the consequences of the only time he ever dared make fun of "Mamma Letitia." "Pauline and I tried it," he said; "but it was a great mistake on our part. It was the only time in my life that my mother herself ever whipped me. I don't believe Pauline ever forgot it. I never did." So it was Mamma Letitia who first spoke on the arrival at home; and her first question was as to the children who had remained behind. "Where is Napoleon? Where is Pauline?" she asked. Little Pauline sprang from behind her uncle the canon. "I am here, mamma," she said, and threw herself in her mother's arms. "But where is Napoleon?" "He has not been good, mamma," Pauline replied. "See! he is there, behind the door. He dare not come out. He pouts." "It is not so, mamma," said Napoleon, coming forward; "I do dare. I am sad; but I do not pout." "And is he obstinate still, Uncle Lucien?" Papa Charles asked. "Has he confessed, or asked your pardon?" "He has done neither," Uncle Lucien replied. "I have never seen, in any child, such obstinacy as his." "Napoleon! Obstinacy!" exclaimed Mamma Letitia. "Why, tell me; what has the boy done?" Then Uncle Lucien told the story of the rifled basket of fruit, excusing the lad as much as he could, although it must be confessed that the kind of canon was considerably "put out" by the reason of what he called Napoleon's obstinacy. When, however, he reached the part of his story that described how he wished Napoleon to confess his misdeed, little Panoria, having, as I have told you, none of that awe of the Canon Lucien that his grand nephews and nieces had, burst in upon him,-- "Why, then!" she cried, "I should not think Napoleon would confess. Poor boy! He did not eat your fruit, Canon Lucien." "How, child! What do you say?" the canon exclaimed. "He did not? Who did, then?" "Why, I did--and Eliza," Panoria replied "You--and Eliza!"--"Eliza!"--"Why, she said nothing!" These were the exclamations of surprise and query that came from all present. "Why, surely!" said Panoria; "and was it wrong? Fruit is free to all here in Corsica. But Eliza was so afraid of her uncle the canon's fruit that I dared her to take some; and we did. Napoleon never touched it. He knew nothing of it." "My poor boy my good child!" said the Canon Lucien, taking Napoleon in his arms. "Why did you not tell me this?" "I thought it might have been Eliza who did it," replied the boy; "but I am no tattle-tale, uncle. Besides, I would have said nothing on Panoria's account. She did not lie." "No more did Eliza," said Joseph. "Bah, imbecile!" said Napoleon, turning on his brother. "Where, then, is the difference between telling a lie and acting one by keeping quiet, if both mislead?"