Граф Монте-Крісто

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

           "

           "Certainly,itiswrong,"saidMonteCristo,"butyoushouldtakeintoconsiderationtheyouthandgreedinessofthedelinquent."

           "Ofcourse,"saidthegardener,"butthatdoesnotmakeitthelessunpleasant.But,sir,oncemoreIbegpardon;perhapsyouareanofficerthatIamdetaininghere."Andheglancedtimidlyatthecount’sbluecoat.

           "Calmyourself,myfriend,"saidthecount,withthesmilewhichhemadeatwilleitherterribleorbenevolent,andwhichnowexpressedonlythekindliestfeeling;"Iamnotaninspector,butatraveller,broughtherebyacuriosityhehalfrepentsof,sincehecausesyoutoloseyourtime."

           "Ah,mytimeisnotvaluable,"repliedthemanwithamelancholysmile."Stillitbelongstogovernment,andIoughtnottowasteit;but,havingreceivedthesignalthatImightrestforanhour"(hereheglancedatthesun-dial,fortherewaseverythingintheenclosureofMontlhery,evenasun-dial),"andhavingtenminutesbeforeme,andmystrawberriesbeingripe,whenadaylongerby-the-by,sir,doyouthinkdormiceeatthem?"

           "Indeed,Ishouldthinknot,"repliedMonteCristo;"dormicearebadneighborsforuswhodonoteatthempreserved,astheRomansdid."

           "What?DidtheRomanseatthem?"saidthegardener—"atedormice?"

           "IhavereadsoinPetronius,"saidthecount.

           "Really?Theycan’tbenice,thoughtheydosay‘asfatasadormouse.

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