The Life of the Fly 



would not enter the pleasure-gardens, with 

 such a bait? 



'Br-r-r-rum! Br-r-r-rum ! Br-r-r-rum !' 

 goes the procession. 



It comes just under my window, wheels to 

 the right and marches into the establishment, 

 a huge wooden booth, hung with evergreens. 

 And now, if you dislike noise, flee, flee as far 

 as you can. Until nightfall, the ophicleides 

 will bellow, the fifes tootle and the cornets 

 bray. How would you deduce the steps of 

 Kepler's laws to the accompaniment of that 

 nigger orchestra ! It is enough to drive one 

 mad. Let us be off with all speed. 



A mile away, I know a flinty waste beloved 

 of the Wheatear and the Locust. Here reigns 

 perfect calm; moreover, there are some 

 clumps of evergreen oak which will lend me 

 their scanty shade. 1 take my book, a few 

 sheets of paper and a pencil and fly to this 

 solitude. What beauteous silence, what ex- 

 quisite quiet ! But the sun is overwhelming, 

 under the meagre cover of the bushes. 

 Cheerily, my lad! Have at your Kepler's 

 laws in the company of the blue-winged 

 Locusts. You will return home with your 

 problems solved, but with a blistered skin. 

 An overdose of sun in the neck shall be the 

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