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Acolyte, v. 2, issue 3, whole no. 7, Summer 1944
Page 4
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The good inhabitants were ready in assisting to extract the tangled passengers from the interior of the coach and to soothe the badly scared driver, who was, of course, summarily discharged. Two of the horses had been shot, as their legs were broken. The trundling omnibus needed a new side. Such a major spectacle in a dreary part of town like the Place de la Cresus is in itself enough to keep tongues wagging for some time. But then Marie, a nurse delegated to attend the recuperation of M. Foucheraux, of whom nobody cared much if he recovered or not, burst forth with the wildest story. "Do you know what the crazy old man demanded?" she told the girls who worked for Madame Moullincourt. "That old man demanded that Doctor Fortinescu bring back his leg. "'That is my leg!' he raved. 'Insufferable stupidity of it all! People aren't going to take away my leg because of that ignorant pig! Now listen, Doctor, you simply must let me have my leg, whether or not it is attached to my stump. Do you understand, you drooling guillotiner? I must have my leg!" The story spread about. Marie told with horror how Dr. Fortinescu drove down to the crematorie and rescued the severed limb. The attendant at the apothecarie verified the woman's tale. "Mon Dieu!" he breathed to a crowd of rapt listeners who hung over the chemically stained and eaten counter board. "In comes Dr. Fortinescu with this gruesome package. "'Say there, Robin,' he bellows at me, all red and furious to himself. 'I want about five gallons of alcohol and the biggest bell-tube in the shop!' "So I say to him: 'And what can you want with that, Doctor? An orgy maybe?' You know how Fortinescu drinks. "'Bah!' he says, 'mind your wit. Just come in back with me and I'll teach you more about your business in five minutes than you learn in five years talking to those oafs at the counter.' "So we go to the back room, and I find a three-foot bell-tube which he makes me clean out. And then, nom de Jesus... he unwraps that bloody package! Oh! The stink.... and there is that filthy leg! "I don't eat for two days. He sews up the top and puts it in the jar, all the time swearing to himself. He even takes a drink then. "So we tap a barrel of alcohol and even empty six or seven bottles to fill up that unholy tube. Then he puts on a cap and seals it with paraphine. "'Alors!' he says to me, wiping his forehead and looking sick and disgusted. 'Not a word of this tupidity, Robin, and here is a sovereign to seal your mouth.' "He looks at the leg and swears some more. 'Now you obscene old man,' he says to himself, 'you can have your leg all the time. Hah! Take a bath in it.......'" II. When M. Foucheraux recuperated sufficiently to make use of a crutch, he testily dismissed the nurse Marie, who was quite glad to be relieved of her post. Dr. Fortinescue called and presented a bill. Foucheraux, who lived his solitary life on funds coming from several minor properties in Alsace, went to his desk, a hideous survival of the "period of bad taste", and withdrew a worn money bag. "I must thank you again and again, monsieur le dotteur," he said, counting out the gold coins, "for what you have done to my leg. A thousand----" "Oh God! I don't want to hear any more about it," Fortinescue exploded. "Here is your bill and you are paying me, which is more than lots of my clients do and I'm glad of it.....Hector, you will make an obsession out of that filthy thing." -- 4 --
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The good inhabitants were ready in assisting to extract the tangled passengers from the interior of the coach and to soothe the badly scared driver, who was, of course, summarily discharged. Two of the horses had been shot, as their legs were broken. The trundling omnibus needed a new side. Such a major spectacle in a dreary part of town like the Place de la Cresus is in itself enough to keep tongues wagging for some time. But then Marie, a nurse delegated to attend the recuperation of M. Foucheraux, of whom nobody cared much if he recovered or not, burst forth with the wildest story. "Do you know what the crazy old man demanded?" she told the girls who worked for Madame Moullincourt. "That old man demanded that Doctor Fortinescu bring back his leg. "'That is my leg!' he raved. 'Insufferable stupidity of it all! People aren't going to take away my leg because of that ignorant pig! Now listen, Doctor, you simply must let me have my leg, whether or not it is attached to my stump. Do you understand, you drooling guillotiner? I must have my leg!" The story spread about. Marie told with horror how Dr. Fortinescu drove down to the crematorie and rescued the severed limb. The attendant at the apothecarie verified the woman's tale. "Mon Dieu!" he breathed to a crowd of rapt listeners who hung over the chemically stained and eaten counter board. "In comes Dr. Fortinescu with this gruesome package. "'Say there, Robin,' he bellows at me, all red and furious to himself. 'I want about five gallons of alcohol and the biggest bell-tube in the shop!' "So I say to him: 'And what can you want with that, Doctor? An orgy maybe?' You know how Fortinescu drinks. "'Bah!' he says, 'mind your wit. Just come in back with me and I'll teach you more about your business in five minutes than you learn in five years talking to those oafs at the counter.' "So we go to the back room, and I find a three-foot bell-tube which he makes me clean out. And then, nom de Jesus... he unwraps that bloody package! Oh! The stink.... and there is that filthy leg! "I don't eat for two days. He sews up the top and puts it in the jar, all the time swearing to himself. He even takes a drink then. "So we tap a barrel of alcohol and even empty six or seven bottles to fill up that unholy tube. Then he puts on a cap and seals it with paraphine. "'Alors!' he says to me, wiping his forehead and looking sick and disgusted. 'Not a word of this tupidity, Robin, and here is a sovereign to seal your mouth.' "He looks at the leg and swears some more. 'Now you obscene old man,' he says to himself, 'you can have your leg all the time. Hah! Take a bath in it.......'" II. When M. Foucheraux recuperated sufficiently to make use of a crutch, he testily dismissed the nurse Marie, who was quite glad to be relieved of her post. Dr. Fortinescue called and presented a bill. Foucheraux, who lived his solitary life on funds coming from several minor properties in Alsace, went to his desk, a hideous survival of the "period of bad taste", and withdrew a worn money bag. "I must thank you again and again, monsieur le dotteur," he said, counting out the gold coins, "for what you have done to my leg. A thousand----" "Oh God! I don't want to hear any more about it," Fortinescue exploded. "Here is your bill and you are paying me, which is more than lots of my clients do and I'm glad of it.....Hector, you will make an obsession out of that filthy thing." -- 4 --
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