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And the old woman went from her fowls to her husband and from her husband to her fowls, devoured by anxiety as to the welfare of the little chickens who were maturing in the bed and in the nest. The country people who knew the story came, agog with curiosity, to ask news of Toine. They entered his room on tiptoe, as one enters a sick-chamber, and asked: "Well! how goes it?"
The last chicken broke through its shell at seven o'clock in the evening. All the eggs were good! And Toine, beside himself with joy, his brood hatched out, exultant, kissed the tiny creature on the back, almost suffocating it.
20th September was spent in salvage work on the battlefield, and at 10 P.M. we moved forward to relieve the Suffolks at Toine and Pimple Posts the first objectives in the attack. On the 22nd we relieved the 25th R.W.F. in the front line, and held from Carbine Trench to Benjamin Post with A Company in support at Artaxerxes Post.
Well known indeed was Toine Burnt-Brandy, the stoutest man in all Normandy. His little house seemed ridiculously small, far too small and too low to hold him; and when people saw him standing at his door, as he did all day long, they asked one another how he could possibly get through the door.
They ordered two glasses of Extra-Special, and began to discuss local affairs. As they were talking in somewhat low tones Toine wanted to put his ear to the wall, and, forgetting all about his eggs, he made a sudden "tack to the north," which had the effect of plunging him into the midst of an omelette.
It was hoped at first that his immense legs would regain some degree of power; but this hope soon disappeared, and Toine spent his days and nights in the bed, which was only made up once a week, with the help of four neighbors who lifted the innkeeper, each holding a limb, while his mattress was turned.
And a loud laugh rose from all present. Newcomers filled the bar. They asked one another: "How many are there?" "Six." Toine's wife took this new family to the hen, who clucked loudly, bristled her feathers, and spread her wings wide to shelter her growing brood of little ones. "There's one more!" cried Toine. He was mistaken. There were three! It was an unalloyed triumph!
For twenty minutes no more hatched out, then four emerged at the same moment from their shells. There was a great commotion among the lookers-on. And Toine smiled with satisfaction, beginning to take pride in this unusual sort of paternity. There were not many like him! Truly, he was a remarkable specimen of humanity! "That makes six!" he declared. "Great heavens, what a christening we'll have!"
But Tome appeared to take no pleasure in it, and reached forth his hand very slowly, and with great precaution. "What's wrong with your arm?" asked Horslaville. "I have a sort of stiffness in the shoulder," answered Toine. Suddenly they heard people come into the inn. The players were silent. It was the mayor with the deputy.
And the customers, doubled up with laughter, would thump the table with their fists and stamp their feet on the floor. The old woman, mad with rage, would repeat: "Wait a bit! Wait a bit! You'll see what'll happen. He'll burst like a sack of grain!" And off she would go, amid the jeers and laughter of the drinkers. Toine was, in fact, an astonishing sight, he was so fat, so heavy, so red.
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