amuse
rather to the fishing.
Here, there is a wand and some hooks.
Silence! there is a superb perch! Give me quick the rod. Ah!
there is, it is a lamprey. You mistake you, it is a frog! dip
again it in the water.

_With a furniture tradesman._

It seems no me new.
Pardon me, it comes workman's hands.
Which hightness want you its?
I want almost four feet six thumbs wide's, over seven of long.

_For embarking one's self._

Don't you fear the privateers!
I jest of them; my vessel is armed in man of war, I have a
vigilant and courageous equipage, and the ammunitions don't want
me its.
Never have you not done wreck?
That it is arrived me twice.

_With a gardener._

Shall I eat some plums soon?
It is not the season yet; but here is some peaches what does ripen
at the eye sight.
It delay me to eat some wal nuts-kernels; take care not leave to
pass the season.
Be tranquil, I shall throw you any nuts during the shell is green
yet.
The artichoks grow its?
I have a particular care of its, because I know you like the
bottoms.
It must to cup the trees.
It should pull the bad grasses up.

_The books and of the reading._

Do you like the reading good deal too many which seem me?
That is to me a amusement.

_The field._

All the fields that you see thither were been neglected; it must I
shall grub up and to plough its.
The ground seems me a little scour with sand and yet it may one
make it bring up; I want be fumed time by time.

_The writing._

Your pens have any notches, and its spit.
How do you like its? will you its are fine or broad?
I won't me also a wafer or some sealing wax and a seal.
In this drawer, there is all that, falding stick, rule, scraper,
saud, etc.
There is the postman I go to put it him again.

_With a bookseller._

What is there in new's litterature?
Little or almost nothing, it not appears any thing of note.
And yet one imprint many deal.
But why, you and another book seller, you does not to imprint some
good wooks?
There is a reason for that, it is that you cannot to sell its. The
actual-liking of the public is depraved they does not read who
for to amuse one's self ant but to instruct one's.
But the letter's men who cultivate the arts and the sciences they
can't to pass without the books.
A little learneds are happies