The works of Guy de Maupassant, Vol. 5: Une Vie and Other Stories — John Shaqi
The works of Guy de Maupassant, Vol. 5: Une Vie and Other StoriesMaupassant, Guy de
General
The works of Guy de Maupassant, Vol. 5: Une Vie and Other Stories
Maupassant, Guy de
French fiction -- Translations into English; Short stories, French -- Translations into English
Two big barrels, surrounded by flaming torches, provided drink for the
crowd, and two servants did nothing but rinse glasses and bowls in a
tub, and then hold them, dripping wet, under the taps whence flowed a
crimson stream of wine, or a golden stream of cider. The thirsty dancers
crowded round, stretched out their hands to get hold of any drinking
vessel, and poured the liquid down their dust-filled throats. Bread,
butter, cheese, and sausages were laid on a table, and everyone
swallowed a mouthful from time to time. As they watched this healthy,
noisy fete, the melancholy guests in the dining-room felt that they too
would have liked to join the dance, to drink from the great casks, and
eat a slice of bread-and-butter and a raw onion.
"By Jove! they are enjoying themselves!" said the mayor, beating time to
the music with his knife. "It makes one think of the wedding feast at
Ganache."
There was a murmur of suppressed laughter.
"You mean at Cana," replied the Abbe Picot, the natural enemy of every
civil authority.
But the mayor held his ground.
"No, M. le cure, I know quite well what I am saying; when I say Ganache,
I mean Ganache."
After dinner they went among the peasants for a little while, and then
the guests took their leave. The baron and his wife had a little quarrel
in a low voice. Madame Adelaide, more out of breath than ever, seemed to
be refusing something her husband was asking her to do; and at last she
said almost out loud: "No, my dear, I cannot. I shouldn't know how to
begin." The baron abruptly left her, and went up to Jeanne.
"Will you come for a walk with me, my child?" he said.
"If you like, papa," she answered, feeling a little uneasy.
As soon as they were outside the door they felt the wind in their
faces--a cold, dry wind which drove the clouds across the sky, and made
the summer night feel like autumn. The baron pressed his daughter's arm
closely to him, and affectionately pressed her hand. For some minutes
they walked on in silence; he could not make up his mind to begin, but,
at last, he said:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account