the mountain), while it
is public that barbers are garrulous and servile, that millers are
cheats (we say in Sussex that every honest miller has a large tuft of
hair on the palm of his hand), yet--with every trade in the world
having some bad quality attached to it--bakers alone are exempt, and
every one takes it for granted that they are sterling: indeed, there
are some societies in which, no matter how gloomy and churlish the
conversation may have become, you have but to mention bakers for
voices to brighten suddenly and for a good influence to pervade every
one. I say this is known for a fact, but not usually explained; the
explanation is, that bakers are always up early in the morning and can
watch the dawn, and that in this occupation they live in lonely
contemplation enjoying the early hours.

So it was with this baker of mine in Flavigny, who was a boy. When he
heard that I had served at Toul he was delighted beyond measure; he
told me of a brother of his that had been in the same regiment, and he
assured me that he was himself going into the artillery by special
enlistment, having got his father's leave. You know very little if you
think I missed the opportunity of making the guns seem terrible and
glorious in his eyes. I told him stories enough to waken a sentry of
reserve, and if it had been possible (with my youth so obvious) I
would have woven in a few anecdotes of active service, and described
great shells bursting under my horses and the teams shot down, and the
gunners all the while impassive; but as I saw I should not be believed
I did not speak of such things, but confined myself to what he would
see and hear when he joined.

Meanwhile the good warm food and the rising morning had done two
things; they had put much more vigour into me than I had had when I
slunk in half-an-hour before, but at the same time (and this is a
thing that often comes with food and with rest) they had made me feel
the fatigue of so long a night. I rose up, therefore, determined to
find some place where I could sleep. I asked this friend of mine how
much there was to pay, and he said 'fourpence'. Then we exchanged
ritual salutations, and I took the road. I did not leave the town or
village without noticing one extraordinary thing at the far end of it,
which was that, whereas most places in France are proud of their
town-hall and make a great show of it, here in Flavigny they had taken
a great house and written over it ECOLE C