When the boys teased him, he tossed back a wrathful answer; when they made fun of his appearance, he grew angry and sullen; and when they tried to force him into their society, he went off by himself, and acted like a little hermit.
But when they twitted him on his nationality, called him "Straw-nose, the Corsican," and made all manner of fun of that rocky and (as they called it) savage island, then all the patriotism in the boy's nature was aroused, and he called his tormentors French cowards, with whom he would one day get square.
"Bah, Corsican! and what will you do ?" asked Peter Bouquet.

"I hope some day to give Corsica her liberty," said Napoleon; "and then all Frenchmen shall march into the sea." Upon which all the boys laughed loudly; and Napoleon, walking off in disgust, went into the school-building, and there vented his wrath upon a portrait of Choiseul, that hung upon the wall.
"Ah, ha! blackguard, pawnbroker, traitor!" he cried, shaking his fist at this portrait of a stout and smiling-looking gentleman.

"I loathe you! I despise you! I spit upon you!" And he did.
Now, Monsieur the Count de Choiseul was the French nobleman who was one of the old King Louis's ministers and advisers.

It was he who had planned the conquest of Corsica, and annexed it to France.

You may not wonder, then, that the little Corsican, homesick for his native island, and hot with rage toward those who made fun of it, when he came upon this portrait of the man to whom, as he had been taught, all Corsica's troubles were due, should have vented his wrath upon it, and heaped insults upon it.
[Illustration: "_What' you will not ask Monsieur the Count's pardon ?"_] Unfortunately for him, however, the teachers at Brienne did not appreciate his patriotic wrath; so, when one of the tattle-tales reported Napoleon's actions, at once he was pounced upon, and ordered to ask pardon for what he had said and done, standing before the portrait of Corsica's enslaver.
He approached the portrait so reluctantly and contemptuously, that one of the teachers scolded him sharply.
"You are not worthy to be a French officer, foolish boy," the teacher declared; "you are no true son of France, thus to insult so great and noble a Frenchman as Monsieur the Count de Choiseul." "I am a son of Corsica," Napoleon replied proudly; "that noble country which this man ground in the dust." "As well he might," replied the teacher tauntingly.