and moon are hooked. It all turns; and that is very
beautiful. Monseigneur points out to me seas and distant
countries. We don't intend to visit them, but it is very
interesting."

"Interesting! yes, that's the word," repeated D'Artagnan.
"And Wednesday?"

"Rustic pleasures, as I have had the honor to tell you,
monsieur le chevalier. We look over monseigneur's sheep and
goats; we make the shepherds dance to pipes and reeds, as is
written in a book monseigneur has in his library, which is
called `Bergeries.' The author died about a month ago."

"Monsieur Racan, perhaps," said D'Artagnan,

"Yes, that was his name -- M. Racan. But that is not all: we
angle in the little canal, after which we dine, crowned with
flowers. That is Wednesday."

"Peste!" said D'Artagnan, "you don't divide your pleasures
badly. And Thursday? -- what can be left for poor Thursday?"

"It is not very unfortunate, monsieur," said Mousqueton,
smiling. "Thursday, Olympian pleasures. Ah, monsieur, that
is superb! We get together all monseigneur's young vassals,
and we make them throw the disc, wrestle, and run races.
Monseigneur can't run now, no more can I; but monseigneur
throws the disc as nobody else can throw it. And when he
does deal a blow, oh, that proves a misfortune!"