"Near enough, Alexander," Napoleon replied; "but I love you fifty-six times better than any of the other boys; and what would you have, my friend? Are not we two of the six selected for the artillery? That is some compensation. Now let us apply for an appointment in the same regiment." They did so, and secured each a lieutenancy in an artillery regiment. This, however, was not hard to secure; for the artillery service was considered the hardest in the army; and the lazy young nobles and gentlemen of the Paris military school had no desire for real work. The certificate given to Napoleon upon his graduation read thus:--"This young man is reserved and studious, he prefers study to any amusement, and enjoys reading the best authors, applies himself earnestly to the abstract sciences, cares little for anything else. He is silent, and loves solitude. He is capricious, haughty, and excessively egotisical, talks little, but is quick and energetic in his replies, prompt and severe in his repartees, has great pride and ambition, aspiring to any thing. The young man is worthy of patronage." And upon the margin of the report one of the examining officers wrote this extra indorsement-- "A Corsican by character and by birth. If favored by circumstances, this young man will rise high." Napoleon's school-life was over. On the first of September, 1785, he received the papers appointing him second-lieutenant in the artillery regiment, named La Fere (or "the sword"), and was ordered to report at the garrison at Valence. His room-mate and friend, Alexander des Mazes, was appointed to the same regiment. It was a proud day for the boy of sixteen. At last his school-life was at an end. He was to go into the world as a man and a soldier. I am afraid he did not look very much like a man, even if he felt that he was one. But he put on his uniform of lieutenant, and in high spirits set off to visit his friends, the Permons. They lived in a house on one of the river streets--Monsieur and Madame Permon, and their two daughters, Cecilia and Laura. Now, both these daughters were little girls, and as ready to see the funny side of things as little girls usually are. So when Lieutenant Napoleon Bonaparte, aged sixteen, came into the room, proud of his new uniform, and feeling that he looked very smart, Laura glanced at Cecilia, and Cecilia smiled at Laura, and then both girls began to laugh. Madam Permon glanced at them reprovingly, while welcoming the young lieutenant with pleasant words. But the boy felt that the girls were laughing at him, and he turned to look at himself in the mirror to see what was wrong.