“Why, it’s comrade Jacques! Pardieu! I couldn’t have better luck; wait till I lie down beside you in the shade of your walnut; I would rather be in the shade of a cask of burgundy; but however, one must accommodate oneself to everything.”
“Still the same, Sans-Souci! still cheerful, and fond of good living!”
“Oh! as for that, I shan’t change; cheerfulness is the wealth of poor devils like us. You know that I used to sing when we were going into battle! They—let me see—what do they call that?”
“Disbanded.”
“Yes, that’s it,—they disbanded us; and instead of being soldiers, here we are civilians again! Well, we must make the best of it; besides, we have always behaved well, and if there is any need to defend the country again some day, why then, forward march!”
“Yes, but how are we to live meanwhile?”
“Like other people, by working.”
“My poor Sans-Souci! there are some people that live on the fat of the land without ever turning their hand; and others, with the best will in the world to work, can’t find any way to earn their living.”
“Bah! you always look at the dark side. Didn’t your journey turn out well? You came into this region for some purpose.”
“Oh! I found more than I expected.”