in my ear, 'Leave the others to fight, and for today take care of your
own hide!' But then, that word Francais! murmured within me, and I
pressed forward to help my comrades. At other times, when, irritated by
hunger, cold, and wounds, I have arrived at the hovel of some Meinherr,
I have been seized by an itching to break the master's back, and to burn
his hut; but I whispered to myself, Francais! and this name would not
rhyme with either incendiary or murderer. I have, in this way, passed
through kingdoms from east to west, and from north to south, always
determined not to bring disgrace upon my country's flag. The lieutenant,
you see, had taught me a magic word--My country! Not only must we defend
it, but we must also make it great and loved."


October 17th.--To-day I have paid my neighbor a long visit. A chance
expression led the way to his telling me more of himself than he had yet
done.

I asked him whether both his limbs had been lost in the same battle.

"No, no!" replied he; "the cannon only took my leg; it was the Clamart
quarries that my arm went to feed."

And when I asked him for the particulars--

"That's as easy as to say good-morning," continued he. "After the great
break-up at Waterloo, I stayed three months in the camp hospital to give
my wooden leg time to grow. As soon as I was able to hobble a little,
I took leave of headquarters, and took the road to Paris, where I hoped
to find some relative or friend; but no--all were gone, or underground.
I should have found myself less strange at Vienna, Madrid, or Berlin.