“Say, Miss, can’t you let us have the recipe for that medicine? We need it in our business.”
The invalids grinned sulkily. In one awful moment I realized what I had done.
“Of course,” I stammered, “this wasn’t meant to have any personal application!” But the mischief was already done. There was nothing to do but to retire with dignity.
However, I couldn’t bear to give up my scheme entirely. Today I went again; this time having carefully selected my story. To my astonishment the ward proved empty, all except for three boys who were crouching on the floor shooting craps; I drew back.
“Perhaps they would rather not be disturbed.”
“They ought to be in bed anyway,” growled the orderly, and chased the patients back to their cots.
I read to them; there was no way out of it. They listened politely to the end, but all the while I felt they were longing to resume their interrupted game. Tonight I expressed my surprise over the deserted ward to Captain X. He roared at my innocence.
“You didn’t expect to find any fellows in hospital today did you? Why, this is Saturday, and there isn’t any drill tomorrow!”
Goncourt, February 18.
Every day we must go to see how the new hut is progressing. This involves wading through a wilderness of mud. I had thought that Bourmont had taught me everything that one could learn about French mud this side of the trenches, but Goncourt has shown me that it has possibilities hitherto undreamed.