Граф Монте-Кристо

How a Gardener May Get Rid of the Dormice that Eat His Peaches

           MonteCristolookedinturnatthetwoironhandlesbywhichthemachinewasworked."Itisveryinteresting,"hesaid,"butitmustbeverytediousforalifetime."

           "Yes.Atfirstmyneckwascrampedwithlookingatit,butattheendofayearIbecameusedtoit;andthenwehaveourhoursofrecreation,andourholidays."

           "Holidays?"

           "Yes."

           "When?"

           "Whenwehaveafog."

           "Ah,tobesure."

           "Thoseareindeedholidaystome;Igointothegarden,Iplant,Iprune,Itrim,Ikilltheinsectsalldaylong."

           "Howlonghaveyoubeenhere?"

           "Tenyears,andfiveasasupernumerarymakefifteen."

           "Youare"

           "Fifty-fiveyearsold."

           "Howlongmustyouhaveservedtoclaimthepension?"

           "Oh,sir,twenty-fiveyears."

           "Andhowmuchisthepension?"

           "Ahundredcrowns."

           "Poorhumanity!"murmuredMonteCristo.

           "Whatdidyousay,sir?"askedtheman.

           "Iwassayingitwasveryinteresting."

           "Whatwas?"

           "Allyouwereshowingme.Andyoureallyunderstandnoneofthesesignals?"

           "Noneatall."

           "Andhaveyounevertriedtounderstandthem?"

           "Never.WhyshouldI?"

           "Butstilltherearesomesignalsonlyaddressedtoyou.

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