_pot-au-feu_, which he did by putting on the big kettle full of water
and plunging into it the meat that he had previously corded together
with a bit of twine, _secundum artem_. Then it was solid comfort for
them to watch the boiling of the soup; the whole squad, their chores
done up and their day's labor ended, stretched themselves on the grass
around the fire in a family group, full of tender anxiety for the
simmering meat, while Loubet occasionally stirred the pot with a
gravity fitted to the importance of his position. Like children and
savages, their sole instinct was to eat and sleep, careless of the
morrow, while advancing to face unknown risks and dangers.

But Maurice had unpacked his knapsack and come across a newspaper that
he had bought at Rheims, and Chouteau asked:

"Is there anything about the Prussians in it? Read us the news!"

They were a happy family under Jean's mild despotism. Maurice
good-naturedly read such news as he thought might interest them, while
Pache, the seamstress of the company, mended his greatcoat for him and
Lapoulle cleaned his musket. The first item was a splendid victory won
by Bazaine, who had driven an entire Prussian corps into the quarries
of Jaumont, and the trumped-up tale was told with an abundance of
dramatic detail, how men and horses went over the precipice and were
crushed on the rocks beneath out of all semblance of humanity, so that
there was not one whole corpse found for burial. Then there were
minute details of the pitiable condition of the German armies ever
since they had invaded France: the ill-fed, poorly equipped soldiers
were actually falling from inanition and dying by the roadside of
horrible diseases. Another article told how the king of Prussia had
the diarrhea, and how Bismarck had broken his leg in jumping from the