I saw him next day under the birches, beaming with delight over his stewpan. “Here’s plenty!” he said. “I have a rat, the apple peelings, and the heads and tails of the Bismarcks! Best of all, they have just turned out this straw here.”—“But the straw is contaminated. Surely you know that this is the bedding from a lousy casemate.”—“What does that matter? Fire purifies everything. It’s a devil of a business now to get any wood in the fort. Reeds, raspberry canes, the lower branches of the trees—they’ve all been burned. Some of our fellows are attacking the timber-shores of the counterscarp and the lids of the latrines. But that is a dangerous game. I don’t want to spend a week in the clink on bread and water.” With these words he began to throw the condemned straw by handfuls between the two stones of his fireplace. What a smoke it made! From time to time, with his hard and black fingers he lifted the scorching lid of the mess-tin, saying, “Just look at this rat, it’s as large as a guinea-pig!” Licking the stick with which he had been stirring his stew, he exclaimed: “I assure you this will be excellent. The dash of fish gives it a rare flavour!”—“But tell me,” I said, “what use do you make of the Münster cheese-rind? The comrades have told me that you collect it from them.”—“I put it in my bowl when I go for my ration of coffee. It melts in the hot liquid. I give a stir, and then I have coffee with cream. It beats caramel. If Brissot knew that, I bet you he’d keep the rind for himself!” Since yesterday, Brissot has been extremely put out. Germany is short of men, and all the physically unfit have orders to present themselves for re-examination. Upon receipt of his notice, Georg trembled. Providing himself with a pair of large spectacles, he set out for Ingolstadt. To gain the double end of having a good time and of making himself look sickly, he went on the spree. It was of no avail; he was declared _feldtauglich_, fit for active service. Yesterday the commandant, walking between M. Langlois and me, observed: “My _Diener_ has not come back yet from Ingolstadt. He is a good boy, but he sometimes takes extraordinary ideas into his head. The other day he asked my permission to present his sister to me. I agreed, and gave him an afternoon’s leave to go and fetch her. I did not see him again for three days. When he returned, he acknowledged that his ‘sister’ was a lady-love from Ratisbon whom he was pining to see, and for whose journey he had paid. This time I have sent him before the medical board, and he has been away for two days! He is an excellent servant, but he has odd ways.” Baron von Stengel laughed. I made answer: “_Herr Major_, your _Bursch_ seems to me a smart man, lively and intelligent, and of imposing appearance. I would rather be served by a clean and ready-witted rogue than by a virtuous dullard.”—“I am quite of your opinion, monsieur Riou.”