Original Short Stories — Volume 02Maupassant, Guy de
General
Original Short Stories — Volume 02
Maupassant, Guy de
Short stories, French -- Translations into English
I made her go first with the priest, then I helped up Mother Paumelle,
whose arm I took and dragged her into the next room, which was no easy
task, for she seemed heavier than a lump of iron.
Stout Ponderel gave his arm to Mother Jean-Jean, who bemoaned her
crutch, and little Joseph Herbon took the idiot, La Putois, to the
dining-room, which was filled with the odor of the viands.
As soon as we were opposite our plates, the sister clapped her hands
three times, and, with the precision of soldiers presenting arms,
the women made a rapid sign of the cross, and then the priest slowly
repeated the Benedictus in Latin. Then we sat down, and the two fowls
appeared, brought in by Marchas, who chose to wait at table, rather than
to sit down as a guest to this ridiculous repast.
But I cried: “Bring the champagne at once!” and a cork flew out with the
noise of a pistol, and in spite of the resistance of the priest and of
the kind sister, the three hussars, sitting by the side of the three
invalids, emptied their three full glasses down their throats by force.
Massouligny, who possessed the faculty of making himself at home, and of
being on good terms with every one, wherever he was, made love to Mother
Paumelle in the drollest manner. The dropsical woman, who had retained
her cheerfulness in spite of her misfortunes, answered him banteringly
in a high falsetto voice which appeared as if it were put on, and she
laughed so heartily at her neighbor's jokes that it was quite alarming.
Little Herbon had seriously undertaken the task of making the idiot
drunk, and Baron d'Streillis, whose wits were not always particularly
sharp, was questioning old Jean-Jean about the life, the habits, and the
rules of the hospital.
The nun said to Massouligny in consternation:
“Oh! oh! you will make her ill; pray do not make her laugh like that,
monsieur. Oh! monsieur--” Then she got up and rushed at Herbon to take
from him a full glass which he was hastily emptying down La Putois'
throat, while the priest shook with laughter, and said to the sister:
“Never mind; just this once, it will not hurt them. Do leave them
alone.”
After the two fowls they ate the duck, which was flanked by the three
pigeons and the blackbird, and then the goose appeared, smoking,
golden-brown, and diffusing a warm odor of hot, browned roast meat. La
Paumelle, who was getting lively, clapped her hands; La Jean-Jean left
off answering the baron's numerous questions, and La Putois uttered.
grunts of pleasure, half cries and half sighs, as little children do
when one shows them candy. “Allow me to take charge of this animal,”
the cure said. “I understand these sort of operations better than most
people.” “Certainly, Monsieur l'Abbe,” and the sister said: “How would
it be to open the window a little? They are too warm, and I am afraid
they will be ill.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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