第23章
关灯
小
中
大
ivetheideaofimprovingonhis
method,andhaulingupmenbythoseropesandpulleys,toflare
uponthedarknessoftheircondition.But,thetimewasnotcome
yetandeverywindthatblewoverFranceshooktheragsofthe
scarecrowsinvain,forthebirds,fineofsongandfeather,tookno
warning.
Thewine-shopwasacornershop,betterthanmostothersinits
appearanceanddegree,andthemasterofthewine-shophad
stoodoutsideit,inayellowwaistcoatandgreenbreeches,looking
onatthestruggleforthelostwine.“It’snotmyaffair,”saidhe,
withafinalshrugoftheshoulders.“Thepeoplefromthemarket
didit.Letthembringanother.”
There,hiseyeshappeningtocatchthetalljokerwritinguphis
joke,hecalledtohimacrosstheway:
“Say,then,myGaspard,whatdoyoudothere?”
Thefellowpointedtohisjokewithimmensesignificance,asis
oftenthewaywithhistribe.Itmisseditsmark,andcompletely
failed,asisoftenthewaywit