because my division was not somewhere
yesterday, nor in some other place to-day. He never came with a frown to
ask me why I had not captured another howitzer and taken more prisoners.
No, faith! It was always,--'Well done, Pioche! bravely done, mon enfant!
here's a piece of twenty francs to drink my health.' Or perhaps he'd
mutter between his teeth, 'That honest fellow there would make a better
general than one half of them.' Not that he was in earnest, you know;
but still it was pleasant just to hear it."

"And yet, Pioche," said I, "it does surprise me why, seeing that this
want of learning was the bar to your promotion, you did not--"

"And so I did, mon lieutenant; at least I tried to learn to read.
_Morbleu!_ it was a weary time for me. I'd rather be under arrest three
days a week, than be at it again. Mademoiselle Minette--she was the
vivandiere of ours--undertook to teach me; and I used to go over to the
canteen every evening after drill. Many a sad heart had I over these
same lessons. Saprelotte, I could learn the look of every man in a
brigade before I could know the letters in the alphabet, they looked so
confoundedly alike when they stood up all in a line. The only fellows
I could distinguish were the big ones, that were probably the sergeants
and sous-officiers; and when my eye was fixed on one column, it would
stray away to another; and then mademoiselle would laugh, and that would
lead to something else. Et, _ma foi_, the spelling-book was soon thrown
aside, and lessons given up for that evening."

"I suppose Mademoiselle Minette was pretty, Pioche?"

"Was I ay, and is, too. What! mon lieutenant, did you never see her on
parade? She's the handsomest girl in the army, and rides so well,--mille
cannons! She might have been a great lady before this if she 'd have
left the regiment; but no, she'd die first! Her father was tambour-major
with us, and killed at Groningen when she was only an infant; and we
used to carry her about in our arms on the march, and hand her from
one to another. I have seen her pass from the leading files to the
baggage-guard, on a long summer's day; that I have. Le Petit Caporal
knows her well; she gave him a gourd full of eau-de-vie at Cairo when
he was so faint he could scarcely speak. It was after that he saw her in
the breach at Acre; one of our fellows was lying wounded in the ruins,
and mademoiselle waited till the storming party fell back, and then ran
up to him with her fla