"Well truly, my good gentleman, you ought to know more than I, though
I am seventy years old," replied the old fellow, very humbly and
respectfully, falling into the attitude of a giver of holy water;
"perhaps you can tell me why conductors and wine-merchants are so fond
of it?"

Blondet, a master of irony, already on his guard from the word
"scientific," recollected the Marechal de Richelieu and began to
suspect some jest on the part of the old man; but he was reassured by
his artless attitude and the perfectly stupid expression of his face.

"In my young days we had lots of otters," whispered the old fellow;
"but they've hunted 'em so that if we see the tail of one in seven
years it is as much as ever we do. And the sub-prefect at
Ville-aux-Fayes,--doesn't monsieur know him? though he be a Parisian,
he's a fine young man like you, and he loves curiosities,--so, as I was
saying, hearing of my talent for catching otters, for I know 'em as
you know your alphabet, he says to me like this: 'Pere Fourchon,' says
he, 'when you find an otter bring it to me, and I'll pay you well; and
if it's spotted white on the back,' says he, 'I'll give you thirty
francs.' That's just what he did say to me as true as I believe in God
the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. And there's a learned man at
Soulanges, Monsieur Gourdon, our doctor, who is making, so they tell
me, a collection of natural history which hasn't its mate at Dijon
even; indeed he is first among the learned men in these parts, and
he'll pay me a fine price, too; he stuffs men and beasts. Now my boy
there stands me out that that otter has got the white spots. 'If
that's so,' says I to him, 'then the good God wishes well to us this
morning!' Ha! didn't you see the water bubble? yes, there it is! there