"Des livres de messe," she said to herself; and thereupon the image of the
cold and hungry soldier arose before her, and "un poulet ou un bon
bifteck!" she added. Then, her eye lighting upon an advertisement in the
newspaper before her, "Maman, que veut dire por-ta-tif?" she asked. The
explanation received, she clapped her hands with joy; yes, surely a
_portable_ one was the very thing! "Maman, si nous envoyions a mon cure un
autel por-ta-tif?"
But Maman thought that, all things considered, it would be better to send
only food in the first parcel. So Jeanne reconciled herself to the idea,
although the _cure_ still remained a shadowy figure in the background with
his own especial need.
And prisoners were cold as well as hungry. What a pity something _hot_
could not be sent.
"Tiens! J'y suis!" cried Jeanne. "O Maman, j'ai une si bonne idee! Si nous
envoyions un bon repas bien chaud dans _l'auto-cuiseur!_" Perhaps it would
keep hot for a day or two. _How_ long did it take for a parcel to reach
_Bochie?_
But Maman decided this plan could not be risked; there was often delay, and
the moist food might turn sour.
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