descended to the river, into which a row of
plane trees cast their shadows.

The two friends entered a field of lucern, which people were spreading.
Women wearing straw hats, with cotton handkerchiefs round their heads,
and paper shades, were lifting with rakes the hay which lay on the
ground, while at the end of the plain, near the stacks, bundles were
being rapidly flung into a long cart, yoked to three horses.

The count advanced, followed by his manager. He was dressed in dimity;
and his stiff figure and mutton-chop whiskers gave him at the same time
the air of a magistrate and a dandy. Even when he was speaking, his
features did not appear to move.

As soon as they had exchanged some opening courtesies, he explained his
system with regard to fodder: the swathes should be turned without
scattering them; the ricks should be conical, and the bundles made
immediately on the spot, and then piled together by tens. As for the
English rake, the meadow was too uneven for such an implement.

A little girl, with her stockingless feet in old shoes, and showing her
skin through the rents in her dress, was supplying the women with cider,
which she poured out of a jug supported against her hip. The count asked
where this child came from, but nobody could tell. The women who were
making the hay had picked her up to wait on them during the harvesting.
He shrugged his shoulders, and just as he was moving away from the spot,
he gave vent to some complaints as to the immorality of our country
districts.

Bouvard eulogised his lucern field.

It was fairly good, in spite of the ravages of the _cuscute_.[2]

The future agriculturists opened their eyes wide at the word "cuscute."

On account of the number of his cattle, he resorted to artificial
meadowing; besides, it went well before the other crops--a thing that
did not always happen in the case of fodder.

"This at least appears to me incontestable."

"Oh! incontestable," replied Bouvard and Pecuchet in one breath. They
were on the borders of a field which had been carefully thinned. A
horse, which was being led by hand, was dragging along a large box,
mounted on three wheels. Seven ploughshares below were opening in
parallel lines small furrows, in which the grain fell through pipes
descending to the ground.

"Here," said the count, "I sow turnips. The turnip is the basis of my
quadrennial system of cultivation."

And he was proceeding to deliver a lecture on the drill-