"Are you the doctor?" asked the child.

And on Charles's answer he took his wooden shoes in his hands and ran on

in front of him.

The general practitioner, riding along, gathered from his guide's talk

that Monsieur Rouault must be one of the well-to-do farmers.

He had broken his leg the evening before on his way home from a

Twelfth-night feast at a neighbour's. His wife had been dead for two

years. There was with him only his daughter, who helped him to keep

house.

The ruts were becoming deeper; they were approaching the Bertaux.

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The little lad, slipping through a hole in the hedge, disappeared;

then he came back to the end of a courtyard to open the gate. The

horse slipped on the wet grass; Charles had to stoop to pass under

the branches. The watchdogs in their kennels barked, dragging at their

chains. As he entered the Bertaux, the horse took fright and stumbled.

It was a substantial-looking farm. In the stables, over the top of the

open doors, one could see great cart-horses quietly feeding from new

racks. Right along the outbuildings extended a large dunghill, from

which manure liquid oozed, while amidst fowls and turkeys, five or six

peacocks, a luxury in Chauchois farmyards, were foraging on the top of

it. The sheepfold was long, the barn high, with walls smooth as your

hand. Under the cart-shed were two large carts and four ploughs, with

their whips, shafts and harnesses complete, whose fleeces of blue wool

were getting soiled by the fine dust that fell from the granaries. The

courtyard sloped upwards, planted with trees set out symmetrically, and

the chattering noise of a flock of geese was heard near the pond.

A young woman in a blue merino dress with three flounces came to the

threshold of the door to receive Monsieur Bovary, whom she led to the

kitchen, where a large fire was blazing. The servant's breakfast was

boiling beside it in small pots of all sizes. Some damp clothes were

drying inside the chimney-corner. The shovel, tongs, and the nozzle

of the bellows, all of colossal size, shone like polished steel, while

along the walls hung many pots and pans in which the clear flame of the

hearth, mingling with the first rays of the sun coming in through the

window, was mirrored fitfully.

Charles went up the first floor to see the patient. He found him in his

bed, sweating under his bed-clothes, having thrown his cotton nightcap

right away from him. He was a fat little man of fifty, with white skin

and blue eyes, the forepart of his head bald, and he wore earrings. By

his side on a chair stood a large decanter of brandy, whence he poured

himself a little from time to time to keep up his spirits; but as soon

as he caught sight of the doctor his elation subsided, and instead of

swearing, as he had been doing for the last twelve hours, began to groan

freely.




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