e powerful chest of a
sturdy yokel, or the prolonged bellow of a cow fastened to the wall of
a house.

There was an all-pervading smell of the stable, of milk, of the
dunghill, of hay, and of perspiration--that acrid, disgusting odor of
man and beast peculiar to country people.

Master Hauchecorne, of Breaute, had just arrived at Goderville, and
was walking toward the square, when he saw a bit of string on the
ground. Master Hauchecorne, economical like every true Norman, thought
that it was well to pick up everything that might be of use; and he
stooped painfully, for he suffered with rheumatism. He took the piece
of slender cord from the ground, and was about to roll it up
carefully, when he saw Master Malandain, the harness-maker, standing
in his doorway and looking at him. They had formerly had trouble on
the subject of a halter, and had remained at odds, being both inclined
to bear malice. Master Hauchecorne felt a sort of shame at being seen
thus by his enemy, fumbling in the mud for a bit of string. He
hurriedly concealed his treasure in his blouse, then in his breeches
pocket; then he pretended to look on the ground for something else,
which he did not find; and finally he went on toward the market, his
head thrust forward, bent double by his pains.

He lost himself at once in the slow-moving, shouting crowd, kept in a
state of excitement by the interminable bargaining. The peasants felt
of the cows, went away, returned, sorely perplexed, always afraid of
being cheated, never daring to make up their minds, watching the
vendor's eye, striving incessantly to detect the tricks of the man and
the defect in the beast.

The women, having placed their great baskets at their feet, took out
their fowls, which lay on the ground, their legs tied together, with
frightened eyes and scarlet combs.

They listened to offers, adhered to their prices, short of speech and
impassive of face; or else, suddenly deciding to accept the lower
price offered, they would call out to the customer as he walked slowly
away:--

"All right, Mast' Anthime. You can have it."

Then, little by little, the square became empty, and when the
Angelus[3] struck midday those who lived too far away to go home
betook themselves to the various inns.

At Jourdain's the common room was full of customers, as the great yard
was full of vehicles of every sort--carts, cabriolets,[4]
_char-a-bancs_, tilburys,[5] unnamable carriages, shapeless, patched,