he bits of glass made
dazzling reflections, the clapper of the wind-mill woke them during the
night, and the sparrows perched on the lay figure. They made a second,
and even a third, varying the dress, but without any useful result.

However, they could hope for some fruit. Pecuchet had just given an
intimation of the fact to Bouvard, when suddenly the thunder resounded
and the rain fell--a heavy and violent downpour. The wind at intervals
shook the entire surface of the espalier. The props gave way one after
the other, and the unfortunate distaff-shaped trees, while swaying under
the storm, dashed their pears against one another.

Pecuchet, surprised by the shower, had taken refuge in the hut. Bouvard
stuck to the kitchen. They saw splinters of wood, branches, and slates
whirling in front of them; and the sailors' wives who, on the sea-shore
ten leagues away, were gazing out at the sea, had not eyes more wistful
or hearts more anxious. Then, suddenly, the supports and wooden bars of
espaliers facing one another, together with the rail-work, toppled down
into the garden beds.

What a picture when they went to inspect the scene! The cherries and
plums covered the grass, amid the dissolving hailstones. The Passe
Colmars were destroyed, as well as the Besi des Veterans and the
Triomphes de Jordoigne. There was barely left amongst the apples even a
few Bon Papas; and a dozen Tetons de Venus, the entire crop of peaches,
rolled into the pools of water by the side of the box trees, which had
been torn up by the roots.

After dinner, at which they ate very little, Pecuchet said softly:

"We should do well to see after the farm, lest anything has happened to
it."

"Bah! only to find fresh causes of sadness."

"Perhaps so; for we are not exactly lucky."

And they made complaints against Providence and against nature.

Bouvard, with his elbows on the table, spoke in little whispers; and as
all their troubles began to subside, their former agricultural projects
came back to their recollection, especially the starch manufacture and
the invention of a new sort of cheese.

Pecuchet drew a loud breath; and while he crammed several pinches of
snuff into his nostrils, he reflected that, if fate had so willed it, he
might now be a member of an agricultural society, might be delivering
brilliant lectures, and might be referred to as an authority in the
newspapers.

Bouvard cast a gloomy look around him.

"Faith! I'm anxious