They are taking out for a walk those of the éclopés who are fit for
it. There must be nearly a hundred of them. In every possible sort of
patched, discolored uniform, here they come hopping and hobbling along.
They have more crutches and canes than feet among the lot of them.
One of the men who has no legs goes so fast on his wooden stump and his
crutches that everybody stops to look, and all the éclopés laugh, and
the people stopping to look, laugh, and he laughs more than any of them.
If things are tragic enough, they are funny. I have come to know that,
with the éclopés at the gate. And inside the gate, with those of the
éclopés who keep back against the walls, I have come to know that the
only safety of life is death.