noon
Tish , as I have said before , has a strange gift of foresight that amounts almost to prophecy . I have never known her , for instance , to put a pink bow on an afghan and then have the subsequent development turn out to be a boy , or vice versa . And the very day before Mr. Ostermaier fell and sprained his ankle she had picked up a roller chair at an auction sale , and in twenty minutes he was in it . At noon we stopped at a crossroads and distributed to some passing troops our usual cigarettes and chocolate . We also fried a number of doughnuts , and were given three cheers by various companies as they passed . It was when our labors were over that Tish perceived a broken machine gun abandoned by the roadside , and spent some time examining it . `` One never knows , '' she said , `` what bits of knowledge may one day be useful . ''