The man took off his hat, showing a skull of dazzling whiteness, shining above his hairy brown face like a piece of crockery on a cocoanut.
Suzanne and Poufaille at the Country Fair
“Bow to the honorable company!” said the Pierrette. “Not so low! if they see your skull that way, they’ll think your breeches are torn at the knee. Now, stand up! To work, old fly-killer!
“Mesdames et messieurs,” the Pierrette said, pretending to roll up her sleeves and get her stick ready, “it’s not so easy as that to kill flies—unless your breath has alcohol enough in it to make them fall in a fit! As for me, I have discovered the means, without drinking, to rid myself of the treacherous gluttonous flies! Do you want my recipe? Here it is. You take a bald-headed man, very delicately—there! like that!—you spread on a layer of molasses and bird-lime, and then flies and wasps, mosquitos and gnats, every insect with a sucker, will light down on the human fly-trap; and then,—then, mesdames,—I address my words to you!—you take a broomstick and hit hard where the molasses is thickest! There! like that! Aïe donc! vlan! pan! till the flies are a jelly—pan! pan!—hit him again! that’s the way to kill flies and treat men as they deserve—with a broomstick—et aïe donc!”
“What! Suzanne and Poufaille!” exclaimed Phil, getting nearer the platform. The camping-party, followed by the Grojeans, joined him just as Poufaille, covered with molasses and shame, escaped from his executioner and dived back behind the canvas. Suzanne, full of excitement from her bastinade, stamped her feet, and with voice and gesture invited the public to come up and buy their places. High above the noise of the band her piercing voice called out the program:
“Riding of the haute école by the celebrated Perbaccho! The dance of the sylphs by Mademoiselle Suzanne, pupil of the famous Helia! Hercules O’Poufaille, of the family of O’Poufailles! Come in! Come in!”
Phil was greatly astonished. He had not seen Poufaille since the evening when the latter, with his eyes starting from his head, had cast at him the terrible accusation—“You have stolen from me my share of glory!”