said Bouvard.

And he kissed her on both cheeks, amid the plaudits of the guests.

Almost immediately after this incident, they uncorked the champagne,
whose detonations caused an additional sense of enjoyment. Pecuchet made
a sign; the curtains opened, and the garden showed itself.

In the twilight it looked dreadful. The rockery, like a mountain,
covered the entire grass plot; the tomb formed a cube in the midst of
spinaches, the Venetian bridge a circumflex accent over the
kidney-beans, and the summer-house beyond a big black spot, for they had
burned its straw roof to make it more poetic. The yew trees, shaped like
stags or armchairs, succeeded to the tree that seemed thunder-stricken,
extending transversely from the elm row to the arbour, where tomatoes
hung like stalactites. Here and there a sunflower showed its yellow
disk. The Chinese pagoda, painted red, seemed a lighthouse on the
hillock. The peacocks' beaks, struck by the sun, reflected back the
rays, and behind the railed gate, now freed from its boards, a perfectly
flat landscape bounded the horizon.

In the face of their guests' astonishment Bouvard and Pecuchet
experienced a veritable delight.

Madame Bordin admired the peacocks above all; but the tomb was not
appreciated, nor the cot in flames, nor the wall in ruins. Then each in
turn passed over the bridge. In order to fill the basin, Bouvard and
Pecuchet had been carrying water in carts all the morning. It had
escaped between the foundation stones, which were imperfectly joined
together, and covered them over again with lime.

While they were walking about, the guests indulged in criticism.

"In your place that's what I'd have done."--"The green peas are
late."--"Candidly, this corner is not all right."--"With such pruning
you'll never get fruit."

Bouvard was obliged to answer that he did not care a jot for fruit.

As they walked past the hedge of trees, he said with a sly air:

"Ah! here's a lady that puts us out of countenance: a thousand excuses!"

It was a well-seasoned joke; everyone knew "the lady in plaster."

Finally, after many turns in the labyrinth, they arrived in front of the
gate with the pipes. Looks of amazement were exchanged. Bouvard observed
the faces of his guests, and, impatient to learn what was their opinion,
asked:

"What do you say to it?"

Madame Bordin burst out laughing. All the others followed her example,
after their respective ways--the cure giving a sor