Good "Papa" Joffre was snoring. He has a touch of water on the knee, nowadays, and he tires easily. Therefore after a morning stroll in his Paris garden last week the beloved old Marshal climbed stiffly and painfully upstairs, sank with relief into a large armchair, dozed off and soon was snoring.
Seeing her husband thus at peace, Madame La Maréchale, frugal, set off to market, taking along her cook to carry the market bag. Then for a time there was no one in the house but "Papa" Joffre, so fast asleep that he did...
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