As I listened to his powerful voice ringing out, I was obliged to say, 'Mon vieux camarade, you quite forget: this is hardly the time for singing.'
Picart looked at me, smiling, and without answering he started again:
'Elle a le nez morveux
Et les yeux chassieux.
C'est ma mie aveugle,
C'est ma fantaisie;
J'en suis amoureux!'
He stopped, seeing that I was afraid of his singing, and showed me the saucepan, now fit to use.
'Do you remember,' he said, 'the day of the Battle of Eylau, when we were on the right of the church?'
'Yes, of course I do,' I said; 'we had weather just like to-day. I have reason to remember it, for a brutal Russian bullet carried away my saucepan. Have you forgotten it, Picart?'
'By Heaven, no!' he said; 'that's why I remind you of it, and ask you if a little patience and industry would not have mended your pan?'
'Certainly not, no more than Gregoire's and Lemoine's heads which it carried off, too.'
'How the devil do you remember their names?'
'I cannot forget them; Gregoire was a Vélite like me, and a good friend, too. That day I had some biscuits and haricots in the saucepan.'