Whereupon there is a burst of ironical applause, and the big paysanne, half laughing, half angry, walks off, exclaiming, "Eh bien! tant mieux! I've no mind to be a scarecrow--moi!"
By this time we have both had enough of the fair, and are glad to make our way out of the crowd and down to the riverside. Here we find lovers strolling in pairs along the towing-path; family groups pic-nicking in the shade; boats and punts for hire, and a swimming-match just coming off, of which all that is visible are two black heads bobbing up and down along the middle of the stream.
"And now, mon ami, what do you vote for?" asks Müller. "Boating or fishing? or both? or neither?"
"Both, if you like--but I never caught anything in my life,"
"The pleasure of fishing, I take it," says Müller, "is not in the fish you catch, but in the fish you miss. The fish you catch is a poor little wretch, worth neither the trouble of landing, cooking, nor eating; but the fish you miss is always the finest fellow you ever saw in your life!"
"Allons donc! I know, then, which of us two will have most of the pleasure to-day," I reply, laughing. "But how about the expense?"
To which Müller, with a noble recklessness, answers:--
"Oh, hang the expense! Here, boatman! a boat à quatre rames, and some fishing-tackle--by the hour."
Now it was undoubtedly a fine sentiment this of Müller's, and had we but fetched my two Napoleons before starting, I should have applauded it to the echo; but when I considered that something very nearly approaching to a franc had already filtered out of our pockets in passing through the fair, and that the hour of dinner was looming somewhat indefinitely in the distance, I confess that my soul became disquieted within me.
"Don't forget, for heaven's sake," I said, "that we must keep something for dinner!"