distant, always accompanied by his "pig." And each time it was a
festival, feeding the animal. All the neighbors ran over there as they
would go to high mass on Sunday.

But the soldier began to suspect something, be mistrustful, and when they
laughed too loud he would roll his eyes uneasily, and sometimes they
lighted up with anger.

One evening when he had eaten his fill he refused to swallow another
morsel, and attempted to rise to leave the table. But Saint Anthony
stopped him by a turn of the wrist and, placing his two powerful hands on
his shoulders, he sat him down again so roughly that the chair smashed
under him.

A wild burst of laughter broke forth, and Anthony, beaming, picked up his
pig, acted as though he were dressing his wounds, and exclaimed: "Since
you will not eat, you shall drink, nom de Dieu!" And they went to the
wine shop to get some brandy.

The soldier rolled his eyes, which had a wicked expression, but he drank,
nevertheless; he drank as long as they wanted him, and Saint Anthony held
his head to the great delight of his companions.

The Norman, red as a tomato, his eyes ablaze, filled up the glasses and
clinked, saying: "Here's to you!". And the Prussian, without speaking a
word, poured down one after another glassfuls of cognac.

It was a contest, a battle, a revenge! Who would drink the most, nom d'un
nom! They could neither of them stand any more when the liter was
emptied. But neither was conquered. They were tied, that was all. They