We are delighted to see our beds once again. Madame Achain would gladly change the bed linen, if she had any—but she has not, and one must not be too dainty in war time.
Monday, 30th November.
Another quiet day spent by the fireside in conversation, playing cards and writing letters.
This morning Jacquard is charged with the making of our chocolate. When the six bowls, filled to the brim, are on the table, he calls out—
"Come, messieurs, breakfast is waiting, messieurs!"
How grandiloquent it sounds!
We appear, only half awake, slouching along in slippers and old shoes. If perchance the chocolate is boiled too much or too little, if it is too thick or too thin, then the patient Jacquard must submit to sarcastic reproaches, to complaints from men who, most assuredly, would not tolerate the slightest inconvenience!
Tuesday, 1st December.
To-day we are road-labourers, an occupation lacking interest, though preferable to that of grave-digger.
The section has been ordered to clean the Pont-Rouge road, in anticipation of the visit of the general. We start with shovels and brooms on our shoulders. Luckily, it is not raining. The Pont-Rouge road is filthy; that, however, is its slightest defect: it is also infested with projectiles. We are not enthusiastic about the work. No one is wounded.