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- Гюстав Флобер
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- Госпожа Бовари
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- Стр. 39/303
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From
the
poultry-yard
was
heard
the
screaming
of
the
fowls
whom
the
servant
was
chasing
in
order
to
wring
their
necks
.
A
man
slightly
marked
with
small-pox
,
in
green
leather
slippers
,
and
wearing
a
velvet
cap
with
a
gold
tassel
,
was
warming
his
back
at
the
chimney
.
His
face
expressed
nothing
but
self-satisfaction
,
and
he
appeared
to
take
life
as
calmly
as
the
goldfinch
suspended
over
his
head
in
its
wicker
cage
:
this
was
the
chemist
.
"
Artemise
!
"
shouted
the
landlady
,
"
chop
some
wood
,
fill
the
water
bottles
,
bring
some
brandy
,
look
sharp
!
If
only
I
knew
what
dessert
to
offer
the
guests
you
are
expecting
!
Good
heavens
!
Those
furniture-movers
are
beginning
their
racket
in
the
billiard-room
again
;
and
their
van
has
been
left
before
the
front
door
!
The
'
Hirondelle
'
might
run
into
it
when
it
draws
up
.
Call
Polyte
and
tell
him
to
put
it
up
.
Only
think
,
Monsieur
Homais
,
that
since
morning
they
have
had
about
fifteen
games
,
and
drunk
eight
jars
of
cider
!
Why
,
they
'll
tear
my
cloth
for
me
,
"
she
went
on
,
looking
at
them
from
a
distance
,
her
strainer
in
her
hand
.
"
That
would
n't
be
much
of
a
loss
,
"
replied
Monsieur
Homais
.
"
You
would
buy
another
.
"
"
Another
billiard-table
!
"
exclaimed
the
widow
.
"
Since
that
one
is
coming
to
pieces
,
Madame
Lefrancois
.
I
tell
you
again
you
are
doing
yourself
harm
,
much
harm
!
And
besides
,
players
now
want
narrow
pockets
and
heavy
cues
.
Hazards
are
n't
played
now
;
everything
is
changed
!
One
must
keep
pace
with
the
times
!
Just
look
at
Tellier
!
"
The
hostess
reddened
with
vexation
.
The
chemist
went
on
--
"
You
may
say
what
you
like
;
his
table
is
better
than
yours
;
and
if
one
were
to
think
,
for
example
,
of
getting
up
a
patriotic
pool
for
Poland
or
the
sufferers
from
the
Lyons
floods
--
"
"
It
is
n't
beggars
like
him
that
'll
frighten
us
,
"
interrupted
the
landlady
,
shrugging
her
fat
shoulders
.
"
Come
,
come
,
Monsieur
Homais
;
as
long
as
the
'
Lion
d'Or
'
exists
people
will
come
to
it
.
We
've
feathered
our
nest
;
while
one
of
these
days
you
'll
find
the
'
Cafe
Francais
'
closed
with
a
big
placard
on
the
shutters
.
Change
my
billiard-table
!
"
she
went
on
,
speaking
to
herself
,
"
the
table
that
comes
in
so
handy
for
folding
the
washing
,
and
on
which
,
in
the
hunting
season
,
I
have
slept
six
visitors
!
But
that
dawdler
,
Hivert
,
does
n't
come
!
"
