Sac-Au-Dos | Page 4

At my left slept my friend, the
painter; on my right, a great devil of a trumpeter, with face pocked like
a sewing thimble and yellow as a glass of bile. He combined two
professions, that of cobbler by day and a procurer of girls by night. He
was, in other respects, a comical fellow who frisked about on his hands,
or on his head, telling you in the most naïve way in the world the
manner in which he expedited at the toe of his boot the work of his
menials, or intoned in a touching voice sentimental songs:
"I have cherished in my sorrow--ow But the friendship of a
swallow--ow."
I conquered his good graces by giving him twenty sous to buy a liter of
wine with, and we did well in not being on bad terms with him, for the
rest of our quarters--composed in part of attorneys of the Rue
Maubuée--were well disposed to pick a quarrel with us.
One night, among others, the 15th of August, Francis Emonot
threatened to box the ears of two men who had taken his towel. There
was a formidable hubbub in the dormitory. Insults rained, we were
treated to "roule-en-coule et de duchesses." Being two against nineteen,
we were in a fair way of getting a regular drubbing, when the bugler
interfered, took aside the most desperate and coaxed them into giving
up the stolen object. To celebrate the reconciliation which followed this
scene, Francis and I contributed three francs each, and it was arranged
that the bugler with the aid of his comrades should try to slip out of the
hospital and bring back some meat and wine.
The light had disappeared from the major's window, the druggist at last
extinguished his, we climb over the thicket, examine our surroundings,
caution the men who are gliding along the walls not to encounter the
sentinels on the way, mount on one another's shoulders and jump off

into the field. An hour later they came back laden with victuals; they
pass them over and reenter the dormitory with us; we suppress the two
night lamps, light candle-ends stuck on the floor, and around my bed in
our shirts we form a circle. We had absorbed three or four liters of wine
and cut up the best part of a leg of mutton, when a great clattering of
shoes is heard; I blow out the candle stubbs, by the grace of my shoe,
and every one escapes under the beds. The door opens; the major
appears, heaves a formidable "Good Heavens!" stumbles in the
darkness, goes out and comes back with a lantern and the inevitable
train of nurses. I profit by the moment to disperse the remains of the
feast; the major crosses the dormitory at a quick step, swearing,
threatening to take us all into custody and to put us in stocks.
We are convulsed with laughter under our coverings; a trumpet-flourish
blazes from the other side of the dormitory. The major puts us all under
diet; then he goes out, warning us that we shall know in a few minutes
what metal he is made of.
Once gone, we vie with each other in doing our worst; flashes of
laughter rumble and crackle. The trumpeter does a handspring in the
dormitory, one of his friends joins him, a third jumps on his bed as on a
springboard and bounces up and down, his arms balancing, his shirt
flying; his neighbor breaks into a triumphant cancan; the major enters
abruptly, orders four men of the line he has brought with him to seize
the dancers, and announces to us that he is going to draw up a report
and send it to whom it may concern.
Calm is restored at last; the next day we get the nurses to buy us some
eatables. The days run on without further incident. We are beginning to
perish of ennui in this hospital, when, one day, at five o'clock, the
doctor bursts into the room and orders us to put on our campaign
clothes and to buckle on our knapsacks.
We learn ten minutes later that the Prussians are marching on Chalons.
A gloomy amazement reigns in the quarters. Until now we have had no
doubts as to the outcome of passing events. We knew about the too
celebrated victory of Sarrebrück, we do not expect the reverses which

overwhelm us. The major examines every man; not one is cured, all
had been too long gorged with licorice water and deprived of care.
Nevertheless, he returns to their corps the least sick, he orders others to
lie down completely dressed, knapsack in readiness. Francis and I are
among these last. The day passes, the night passes. Nothing. But I have
the colic continually and