gone to town, and that Joseph has gone on an errand, he takes from the wheelbarrow each of the stones, each bit of the débris, and, one after another, throws them into the garden, crying in a loud voice:
"There, pig! Take that, you wretch!"
The stones fly, the bits of debris fall upon a freshly-worked bed, where Joseph the day before had planted peas.
"Take that! And this, too! And here is another, in the bargain!"
The bed, soon covered with debris, becomes a confused heap. The captain's joy finds expression in a sort of hooting and disorderly gestures. Then, turning up his old grey moustache, he says to me," with a triumphant and rakish air:
"Mademoiselle Célestine, you are a fine girl, for sure! You must come and see me, when Rose is no longer here, eh? Ah! that's an idea!"
Well, indeed! He has no cheek!