"There, set of idiots, look at that!"
Arrival of a very high functionary,—a ridiculous little old fellow in a black coat, who from his office has been listening to the row:
"What is the matter? What is it? What is
this annoyance put upon the French officers?"
I politely state my case to this personage, who cannot make apologies and promises enough. The little agents prostrate themselves on all fours, sink into the earth; and we leave them, cold and dignified, without returning their bows.
M. Sucre and Madame Prune can now make their minds easy, they will not be disturbed again.
August 23rd.
The prolonged stay of the Triomphante in the dock, and the distance of our home from town, have been my pretext these last two or three days for not going up to Diou-djen-dji to see Chrysanthème.
It is dreary work though in these docks. With the early dawn a legion of little Japanese workmen invade us, bringing their dinners in baskets and gourds like the working-men in our arsenals, but with a needy, shabby appearance, and a ferreting, hurried manner which reminds one of rats. Silently they slip under the keel, at the bottom of the hold, in all the holes, sawing, nailing, repairing.