Here a general laugh interrupted him.
“Ha, ha, ha! is he a fool?” said one. “He listens to what the townsfolk tell him.”
“Ah, well! if you listen to their gabble, you have time to lose,” said another.
“You do not know, then, what my mother said, greenhorn?” said the eldest, gravely dropping his eyes with a solemn air, to compel attention.
“Eh! how can you think that I know it, La Pipe? Your mother must have died of old age before my grandfather came into the world.”
“Well, greenhorn, I will tell you! You shall know, first of all, that my mother was a respectable Bohemian, as much attached to the regiment of carabineers of La Roque as my dog Canon there. She carried brandy round her neck in a barrel, and drank better than the best of us. She had fourteen husbands, all soldiers, who died upon the field of battle.”
“Ha! that was a woman!” interrupted the soldiers, full of respect.
“And never once in her life did she speak to a townsman, unless it was to say to him on coming to her lodging, ‘Light my candle and warm my soup.’”
“Well, and what was it that your mother said to you?”
“If you are in such a hurry, you shall not know, greenhorn. She said habitually in her talk, ‘A soldier is better than a dog; but a dog is better than a bourgeois.’”