United States or Montserrat ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
They ordered two glasses of Extra-Special, and began to discuss local affairs. As they were talking in somewhat low tones Toine wanted to put his ear to the wall, and, forgetting all about his eggs, he made a sudden "tack to the north," which had the effect of plunging him into the midst of an omelette.
See, here it is, M'sieu le Maire." ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES, Vol. 9. GUY DE MAUPASSANT ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES Translated by ALBERT M. C. McMASTER, B.A. A. E. HENDERSON, B.A. MME. QUESADA and Others He was known for thirty miles round was father Toine fat Toine, Toine-my-extra, Antoine Macheble, nicknamed Burnt-Brandy the innkeeper of Tournevent.
For twenty minutes no more hatched out, then four emerged at the same moment from their shells. There was a great commotion among the lookers-on. And Toine smiled with satisfaction, beginning to take pride in this unusual sort of paternity. There were not many like him! Truly, he was a remarkable specimen of humanity! "That makes six!" he declared. "Great heavens, what a christening we'll have!"
And a loud laugh rose from all present. Newcomers filled the bar. They asked one another: "How many are there?" "Six." Toine's wife took this new family to the hen, who clucked loudly, bristled her feathers, and spread her wings wide to shelter her growing brood of little ones. "There's one more!" cried Toine. He was mistaken. There were three! It was an unalloyed triumph!
He was known for thirty miles round was father Toine fat Toine, Toine-my-extra, Antoine Macheble, nicknamed Burnt-Brandy the innkeeper of Tournevent. It was he who had made famous this hamlet buried in a niche in the valley that led down to the sea, a poor little peasants' hamlet consisting of ten Norman cottages surrounded by ditches and trees.
Toine's friends soon deserted the drinking room to come and chat every afternoon beside the invalid's bed. Helpless though he was, the jovial Toine still provided them with amusement. He would have made the devil himself laugh.
"It's to be hoped so!" answered the old woman crossly, haunted by fear of failure. They waited. Friends of Toine who had got wind that his time was drawing near arrived, and filled the little room. Nothing else was talked about in the neighboring cottages. Inquirers asked one another for news as they stood at their doors. About three o'clock Toine fell asleep. He slumbered half his time nowadays.
But Tome appeared to take no pleasure in it, and reached forth his hand very slowly, and with great precaution. "What's wrong with your arm?" asked Horslaville. "I have a sort of stiffness in the shoulder," answered Toine. Suddenly they heard people come into the inn. The players were silent. It was the mayor with the deputy.
The last chicken broke through its shell at seven o'clock in the evening. All the eggs were good! And Toine, beside himself with joy, his brood hatched out, exultant, kissed the tiny creature on the back, almost suffocating it.
Toine, who was perspiring with emotion and anxiety, murmured: "I have another now under the left arm." His' wife plunged her great bony hand into the bed, and pulled out a second chicken with all the care of a midwife. The neighbors wanted to see it. It was passed from one to another, and examined as if it were a phenomenon.
Word Of The Day