Here, with its prominent skull and nose, we have the pessimist Mauventre, who at the faintest distant roar of the cannon sighs—
"Here come the marmites! They'll be the death of us all yet, see if they're not!"
Reymond has well caught the anxious, troubled features of this intrepid soldier.
On another slice of beetroot is the droll silhouette of Corporal Davor, his startled face almost hidden between his shoulders and his arms akimbo. Davor goes about, at night-time, to stir up those on sentry duty.
"Keep a watch on the right. Keep a watch on the left."
One source of diversion for us is to assume, whenever he passes, the indifferent air of one who ridicules the German attacks.
We all figure in the collection. Varlet is a striking type, with his badger profile immoderately lengthened out by a pipe in the form of a shell or conch, which appears to be soldered on to his nose.
The beetroot haunts our very dreams. Since we are fated to be tormented with the beetroot for all eternity, we may as well extract what fun we can from it.