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.
Nothing was wrong.

It was simply Napoleon; but Napoleon just then was not a handsome boy.

Longhaired, large-headed, sallow-faced, stiff-stocked, and feeling very new in his new uniform (which could not be very gorgeous, however, because the boy's pocket would not admit of any extras in the way of adornment on decoration), he was, I expect, rather a pinched-looking, queer-looking boy; and, moreover, his boots were so big, and his legs were so thin, that the legs appeared lost in the boots.
As he glanced at himself in the mirror, the girls giggled again, and their mother said,-- "Silly ones, why do you laugh?
Is our new uniform so marvellous a change that you do not recognize Lieutenant Bonaparte ?" "Lieutenant Bonaparte, mamma!" cried fun-loving Laura.

"No, no! not that.