so glutted with corpses that it had been found necessary to open a new
burial-ground at the other end of town. Then the old abandoned cemetery
had been gradually purified by the dark thick-set vegetation which had
sprouted over it every spring. The rich soil, in which the gravediggers
could no longer delve without turning up some human remains, was
possessed of wondrous fertility. The tall weeds overtopped the walls
after the May rains and the June sunshine so as to be visible from the
high road; while inside, the place presented the appearance of a deep,
dark green sea studded with large blossoms of singular brilliancy.
Beneath one's feet amidst the close-set stalks one could feel that the
damp soil reeked and bubbled with sap.

Among the curiosities of the place at that time were some large
pear-trees, with twisted and knotty boughs; but none of the housewives
of Plassans cared to pluck the large fruit which grew upon them. Indeed,
the townspeople spoke of this fruit with grimaces of disgust. No such
delicacy, however, restrained the suburban urchins, who assembled in
bands at twilight and climbed the walls to steal the pears, even before
they were ripe.

The trees and the weeds with their vigorous growth had rapidly
assimilated all the decomposing matter in the old cemetery of
Saint-Mittre; the malaria rising from the human remains interred
there had been greedily absorbed by the flowers and the fruit; so that
eventually the only odour one could detect in passing by was the strong
perfume of wild gillyflowers. This had merely been a question of a few
summers.

At last the townspeople determined to utilise this common property,
which had long served no purpose. The walls bordering the roadway and