“She said that it was by Bethovan who is supposed to be a great musician,” said the tax-collector, “he has some reputation.”
“Upon my faith! it is not at Nemours then,” rejoined Madame Crémière, “and he is well named Bête à vent.”
“I believe that our uncle did it on purpose so that we should not go there again,” said Massin, “for he winked at his conceited creature as he showed the green volume.”
“If they amuse themselves with that racket,” returned the postmaster, “they do well to stay by themselves.”
“The justice of the peace must be very fond of playing to listen to those Sonacles,” said Madame Crémière.
“I shall never be able to play before people who do not understand music,” said Ursule, going and sitting beside the card-table.
“Ideas, with richly organized people, can only develop in a favorable sphere,” said the curé of Nemours. “In the same way as a priest could not bless in the presence of an evil spirit, as the chestnut dies in rich ground, so a musical genius experiences an inward defeat when he is surrounded by ignorant persons. In all the arts we must receive, from the souls that serve as a medium to our souls, as much strength as we impart to them. This axiom which governs human affections has prompted the proverbs: ‘One must do as others do;’ ‘Birds of a feather flock together.’ But the
