"OUT, MONSIEUR."

Dominion, Volume 9, Issue 2820, 11 July 1916, Page 6

"OUT, MONSIEUR."

LINGUISTIC HURDLES ON THE FRENCH FRONT

No. 1762349 Private William Smith, new in training at Trentham. probably indulges in occasional speculation about the "parley-voo" part of his coming sojourn in Prance. Somo of iiim. no doubt, are discreetly mastering selected phrases of the French language 1 handy' stock-in-trade for consolidating their creative comforts. Let him rend this little experience of vain-glorious effort, as described by "153" in the "Westminster Gazette":—

''What a brilliant idea!" said Drum, discarding his breakfast—a fragment ot fat that Iwre the misnomer of ham;

"lot's go and ask her to cook us two now-laid eggs." "But we don't know enough French," I protested.

"Don't worry about that, old sport; we'll manage somehow. Come on." We found Madame in the kitchen.

"Fire away," I said, nudging Drum. "Madame," began Drum, taking a flying leap into French, ■ "er—ei—er " He pursued tho next word as one might chase an evasive pea round a plate, almost capturing it and then just missing it, right through the dictionary. "Madame," he began again, and then in despair looked imploringly at ma fa. contiuuo.

"Bon jour, Madame," I began in m> best style.

"Bon jour, Monsieur," she replied. This was a good beginning. Drum was impressod. "Madame, voulez-vous—er—cookcz ?" I said, pitching my voice in order to attain tho difficult effect of asking a question and delivering a command at the same time.

But Madame merely 6miled politely. "Boilez?" I.ventured, knowing that it was hopeless. Madame's smile was still more polite. Then Madame's lips and eyes and hands moved rapidly with marionette-like dexterity.

Ces messieurs desirent quelle chose; du, cafe ou du lait, des allumettes ou puis-jevous faire votre lingerie; mais je lie comprends pas, oh?" ■ It seemed impolite to let an effort like this pass unapplauded, so when Madame had subsided, more from a sense of dutr than anything else, I essayed a ,"oui Madame. The clock ticked. Looking round the room for an inspiration, iny eye caught sight of an oval cake of soap in the sink. An idea seized me.

. "'Comme ca," said I, pointing to the soap, and making oval signs. "Ah, oui!. yons desirez vous vous laver, Messienrs?" 1

I didn't quite understand what it meant, but it didn't sound like having an egg boiled, so I shook my head and said, Non, Madame." Drum thought it was about tfp to him to say something, too, so ho murmured a non-committal "Toute suite"—just as one might say, "Hear, hear." A silent crisis ensued.

As Madame smiled, the strain on her politeness became acute.

"I've got it, Drum," said I. "Make a noise like a hen chuckling over one that it's just laid. You do it rather well. It's one of your strong points." Drum, with a noise like a crockery accident, obeyed instantly. For a few seconds Madame regarded IXnum anxiously. Otherwise, Madame was unmoved. She merely looked politely puzzled.

Perhaps she thought that, in moments of supreme agitation, it was Drum's practice to find relief in such noises. The situation threatened 'to crack. Something had to be done quickly. It doesn't matter liow it's done, I thought, ns long as it's done in coherent French.

Remembering an odd sentonco out of my lesson book, I turned to Madame and said with all the nonchalance I could oommand: "La plume de mon frore est daris -le jardin."

Madame certainly looked a trifle incredulous, but I felt that ] had onco more regained the confidence of Drum. "Hang it all. Drum," I said impatiently, "what is boil an egg in French ?" Before Drum could frame a look of incompetence, Madame had' excitedly broken in: "Ah, Oui! Oui! Messieurs, je comprends. Ton want me to boil some egg. Would you like it—them—boil hard or, boil soft, Messieurs?"

"I told you so," said Drum, as we walked away five minutes afterwards with a trailed eg? apiece.. "I knew we'd manage somehow."