"Then comes the time to fill the paunch,
Bring in the beans so white!
They're not so good as a fine plump haunch,
But we lack not appetite.
How much more wretched had been our lot.
If, like many a jolly cadet,
Instead of the galleys, we'd chauc'd to 've got,
To the abbey of Mont-a-r'gret."
All our companions were not so happy; in the third cordon, composed of the least disorderly, we heard sobs, saw tears flowing; but these symptoms of grief, or of repentance, were hailed by the shouts and threats of the two other cordons, where I figured in the first rank as a dangerous fellow, from my address and influence. I had near me two men, one a schoolmaster condemned for rape; and the other, an ex-officer of health, sentenced for forging, who, without mirth or melancholy talked together with a very calm and natural tone.
"We are going to Brest," said the schoolmaster.
"Yes," answered the officer of health, "we are going to Brest; I know the country, I passed through It when I was sub aide-de-camp in the 16th brigade—a good country, upon my word—I shall not be sorry to see it again.
"Is there much amusement?" asked the pedagogue.
"Amusement!" said his companion, with an air of astonishments.
"Yes, amusement—I ask you, if we can procure any little pleasure if we are well treated,—if provisions are cheap."
"In the first place, you will be taken care of," replied the officer," and well taken care of, for at the Bagne at Brest, only two hours are needed to find all the beans in the soup, while at Toulon the search would take eight days."
Here the conversation was interrupted by loud cries, proceeding from the second division. They were
