Leaves from a Field Note-BookMorgan, J. H. (John Hartman)
History
Leaves from a Field Note-Book
Morgan, J. H. (John Hartman)
World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives, English
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| Billet de Logement. |
| |
| Mme. Bonnard, 131 rue Robert le Frisson, logera les sous-dits, |
| savoir: un officier, un sous officier, deux hommes; fournira le lit, |
| place au feu et a la chandelle, conformement a loi du 3 juillet, 1877.|
| Delivre a la Mairie, |
| le 31me Janvier, 1915. |
| Le Maire ---- |
+-----------------------------------------------------------------------+
The Camp Commandant, who is a keeper of lodging-houses and an Inspector
of Nuisances, had given me a slip of paper on which was inscribed the
address No. 131 rue Robert le Frisson and a printed injunction to the
occupier to know that by these presents she was enjoined to provide me
with bed, fire, and lights. Armed with this billeting-paper and
accompanied by my servant, a private in the Suffolks, who was carrying
my kit, I knocked at the door of No. 131, affecting an indifference to
my reception which I did not feel. It seemed to me that a
rate-collector, presenting a demand note, could have boasted a more
graceful errand. The door opened and an old lady in a black silk gown
inquired, "Qu'est-ce que vous voulez, M'sieu'?" I presented my
billeting-paper with a bow. Her waist was girt with a kind of
bombardier's girdle from which hung a small armoury of steel implements
and leather scabbards: scissors, spectacle case, a bunch of keys, a
button-hook, and other more or less intimidating things. "Jeanne," she
called in a quavering voice, and as the _bonne_ appeared, tying her
apron-strings, they read the billeting-paper together, the one looking
over the shoulder of the other, Madame reading the words as a child
reads, and as though she were speaking to herself. The paper shook in
her tremulous hands, and I could see that she was very old. It was
obvious that my appearance in that quiet household was as agitating as
it was unexpected. "Et votre ordonnance?" she asked, with a glance at my
servant. "Non, il dort dans la caserne." "Bien!" she said, and with a
smile made me welcome.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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