was boiled in helmets, and salted with cannon powder in place of salt.
Marshal Massena tasted this soup, and thought it very good. One hardly
knows which to admire most,--the zeal of the surgeons, the courage with
which they confronted danger in caring for the wounded on the field of
battle, and even in the midst of the conflict; or the stoical constancy
of the soldiers, who, lying on the ground, some without an arm, some
without a leg, talked over their campaigns with each other while waiting
to be operated on, some even going so far as to show excessive
politeness. "M. Docteur, begin with my neighbor; he is suffering more
than I. I can wait."

A cannoneer had both legs carried away by a ball; two of his comrades
picked him up and made a litter with branches of trees, on which they
placed him in order to convey him to the island. The poor mutilated
fellow did not utter a single groan, but murmured, "I am very thirsty,"
from time to time, to those who bore him. As they passed one of the
bridges, he begged them to stop and seek a little wine or brandy to
restore his strength. They believed him, and did as he requested, but
had not gone twenty steps when the cannoneer called to them, "Don't go so
fast, my comrades; I have no legs, and I will reach the end of my journey
sooner than you. 'Vive la France;'" and, with a supreme effort, he
rolled off into the Danube.

The conduct of a surgeon-major of the guard, some time after, came near
compromising the entire corps in his Majesty's opinion. This surgeon, M.
M----, lodged with General Dorsenne and some superior officers in a
pretty country seat, belonging to the Princess of Lichtenstein, the
concierge of the house being an old German who was blunt and peculiar,
and served them with the greatest repugnance, making them as
uncomfortable as possible. In vain, for instance, they requested of him