THE MAGPIE "ANATOLE," MALANCOURT WOOD.
July 8, 1915.
"What a luncheon, major! It is too much—too much, a thousand times too much. You dine well in Malancourt Wood! Hors d'œuvres, roast chicken, chops. What a remarkable chef!"
"I agree with you—he is the former chef of the Lysistrata, the yacht belonging to Mr. James Gordon Bennett, himself!"
So saying, Major Jouanic filled his goblet with champagne to the brim. We are less than fifteen minutes from the first line and the weather is marvelous——
"Dessert is ready, Ducoux, you can bring in Anatole."
Ducoux got up and left table. He came back soon with Anatole on his finger, a young magpie who already had the air of an old maid——
Anatole is not well brought up—she is a little noisy. When one speaks to her of Madame Colette[9] she gives herself up to comic contortions, and what a sight!
She drinks greedily of champagne out of the guest's glass and becomes shamefully drunk!
Now she staggers around the table, making insufferable cries. She inclines her head, staring at us with one eye——