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So whispering he applied the spurs, and the horse flew towards

the Judge's mansion, just as the hunters came riding out of the

wood from the other direction. The Count was fond of hunting:

hardly had he perceived the riders, when, forgetting everything,

he galloped straight towards them, passing by the yard gate, the

orchard, and the fences; but at a turn of the path he looked

around and checked his horse near the fence-it was the kitchen

garden. Fruit trees planted in rows shaded a broad field; beneath

them were the vegetable beds. Here sat a cabbage, which bowed its

venerable bald head, and seemed to meditate on the fate of

vegetables; there, intertwining its pods with the green tresses

of a carrot, a slender bean turned upon it a thousand eyes; here

the maize lifted its golden tassels; here and there could be seen

the belly of a fat watermelon that had rolled far from its parent

stalk into a distant land, as a guest among the crimson beets.