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"I brought in monsieur to show him the photograph of mon petiot, the comrade who sent me the snuff," explained Toinette, rummaging in a cupboard. "May I stay and look at it?" asked Doggie, buttoning up his tunic. "Mais parfaitement, monsieur," said Jeanne. "It is Toinette's kitchen." "Bien sûr," said the old woman, turning with the photograph, that of a solid young infantryman.
The old woman sighed and re-engulfed the snuff-box. "Who knows? From one minute to another who knows whether the little ones who are dear to us are alive or dead?" "And this petit monsieur is dear to you, Toinette?" Jeanne asked, in her even voice, without looking up from her sewing. "Since he resembles my petiot." "He will come back," said Jeanne. "I hope so," said the old woman mournfully.
Doggie made polite remarks. Toinette put on a pair of silver-rimmed spectacles and scanned the picture. Then she handed it to Jeanne. "Don't you think there is a great deal of resemblance?" Jeanne directed a comparing glance at Doggie and smiled. "Like two little soldiers in a pod," she said. Toinette talked of her petiot who was at St. Mihiel. It was far away, very far.
Very well, then, this provost was named Picot or Picault, of which some made picotin, picoter, and picoree; by some Pitot or Pitaut, from which comes pitance; by others in Languedoc, Pichot from which comes nothing comes worth knowing; by these Petiot or Petiet; by those Petitot and Petinault, or Petiniaud, which was the masonic appellation; but at Bourges he was called Petit, a name which was eventually adopted by the family, which has multiplied exceedingly, for everywhere you find "des Petits," and so he will be called Petit in this narrative.
Very well, then, this provost was named Picot or Picault, of which some made picotin, picoter, and picoree; by some Pitot or Pitaut, from which comes pitance; by others in Languedoc, Pichot from which comes nothing comes worth knowing; by these Petiot or Petiet; by those Petitot and Petinault, or Petiniaud, which was the masonic appellation; but at Bourges he was called Petit, a name which was eventually adopted by the family, which has multiplied exceedingly, for everywhere you find "des Petits," and so he will be called Petit in this narrative.