Letters From My Windmill Alphonse Daudet (top 10 ebook reader .txt) 📖

—I will butt him, Monsieur Seguin.

—The big bad wolf doesn't give a fig for your horns. He's eaten many akid goat with bigger horns than yours. Have you thought about poor oldRenaude who was here only last year? She was really strong and wilful,she was; more like a billy-goat. She fought off the wolf all night. Inthe morning the wolf still ate her, though.

—Poor, poor Renaude! But that doesn't alter anything, Monsieur Seguin,let me go into the mountain.

—Goodness!…, he said; What am I to do with these goats of mine? Yetanother one for the wolf's belly. Well, I'm not going to have it, Iwill save you despite yourself, you rascal, and to avoid the risk ofyour breaking loose, I am going to lock you in the cowshed and you willstay there.

Without further ado, Monsieur Seguin carried the goat into the pitchblackness of the cowshed and locked and bolted the door. Unfortunately,he had forgotten to shut the window, and he had hardly turned his backwhen she got free.

Are you laughing, Gringoire? Heavens! I'm quite sure you are on thegoats' side, and not Monsieur Seguin's. We'll see if you manage to keeplaughing.

There was general delight when the white goat arrived on the mountain.The old fir trees had never seen anything nearly so lovely. She wasreceived like a queen. The chestnut trees bowed down to the ground tostroke her with the tips of their leaves. The brooms opened up the wayfor her and brushed against her as best they could. The wholemountainside celebrated her arrival.

So, Gringoire, imagine how happy our goat was! No more tether … nomore stake … nothing to prevent her from going where she wanted andnibbling at anything she liked. Hereabouts, there was lots of grass;she was up to her horns in it, my friend. And what grass! Delicious,fine, feathery, and dense, so much better than that in the enclosure.And then there were the flowers!… Huge bluebells; purple,long-stemmed foxgloves; a whole forest full of wild blooms brimmingover with heady sap.

The white goat, half-drunk, wallowed in it, and with her legs flailingin the air, rolled along the bank all over the place on the fallenleaves in amongst the chestnut trees. Then, quite suddenly, she jumpedconfidently onto her feet. Off she went, heedlessly going forwardthrough the clumps of boxwood and brooms; she went everywhere; up hill,and down dale. You would have thought that there were loads of MonsieurSeguin's goats on the mountain.

Clearly, Blanquette was not frightened of anything. In one leap, shecovered some large torrential streams, which burst over her in asoaking mist. Then, dripping wet, she stretched herself out on a flatrock and dried herself in the sun. Once, approaching the edge of adrop, a laburnum flower in her mouth, she noticed Monsieur Seguin'shouse and the enclosure far down on the plain. It made her laugh tillthe tears came.

—How small it all is! she said; how did I manage to put up with it?

Poor little thing, finding herself so high up, she believed herself tobe on top of the world.

Overall, it was a jolly good day for Monsieur Seguin's kid goat. Aboutmidday, scampering all over the place, she chanced upon a herd ofchamois munching on wild vines with some relish. Our little minx in awhite dress was an absolute sensation. All these gentlemanly bucks madeway for her so she could have the very best of the vines…. It evenseemed—and this is for your ears only Gringoire—that one of the blackcoated young chamois caught Blanquette's eye. The two lovers got lostin the trees for an hour or two, and if you want to know what they saidto one another, go and ask the babbling brooks who meander unseen inthe moss.

* * * * *

Suddenly, the wind freshened; the mountain turned violet; and eveningfell….

—Already!, said the little kid goat, and stopped in astonishment.

In the valley, the fields were shrouded in mist. Monsieur Seguin'senclosure was hidden in the fog, and nothing could be seen of the houseexcept the roof and a faint trace of smoke. She heard the bells of aflock of sheep returning home and began to feel very melancholy. Areturning falcon just missed her with his wings as he passed over. Shewinced…. Then there was a howl on the mountain.

Now, the silly nanny thought about the big bad wolf; having not oncedone it all day. At the same time, a horn sounded far away in thevalley. It was Monsieur Seguin making one last effort.

The wolf howled again.

—Come home! Come home! cried the horn.

Blanquette wanted to; but then, she remembered the stake, and the rope,and the hedged enclosure; and she thought that now she couldn'tpossibly get used to all that lot again, and it was better to stay put.

The horn went silent….

She heard a noise in the leaves behind her. She turned round and therein the shade she saw two short, pricked-up ears and two shiningeyes…. It was the big, bad wolf.

* * * * *

Huge and motionless, there he was, sitting on his hindquarters, lookingat the little white goat and licking his chops. He knew full well thathe would eventually eat her, so he was in no hurry, and as she turnedaway, he laughed maliciously:

—Ha! Ha! It's Monsieur Seguin's little kid goat! and he licked hischops once again with his red tongue.

Blanquette felt all was lost. It only took a moment's thought about thestory of old Renaude, who became the wolf's meal after bravely fightingall night, to convince her that perhaps it would have been better toget it over with, and to let herself be eaten there and then.Afterwards, thinking better of it, she squared up to the big bad wolf,head down, horns ready, like the brave little kid goat of MonsieurSeguin that she was … not that she expected to kill him—goats don'tkill wolves—but just to see if she could last out as long asRenaude….

As the big bad wolf drew near, she with her little horns set to intothe fray.

Oh! the brave little kid goat; how she went at it with such a greatheart. A