18/26 I am a refined man and a poet by nature, and I suffered tortures from the coarse horror of my surroundings. There was a drill sergeant, and he had a cane. Ah, that cane, how it curled! Alas, never can I forget it! 'One morning came the news; my battalion was ordered to Tonquin. They were not satisfactory. My artistic tastes -- for I am also an artist -- recoiled from the idea of being ripped open. |