On one was written, “To Commerce”; on the other, “To Agriculture”; on the third, “To Industry”; and on the fourth, “To the Fine Arts.”

But the jubilation that brightened all faces seemed to darken that of Madame Lefrancois, the innkeeper.  Standing on her kitchen-steps she muttered to herself, “What rubbish! what rubbish!  With their canvas booth!  Do they think the prefect will be glad to dine down there under a tent like a gipsy?  They call all this fussing doing good to the place!  Then it wasn’t worth while sending to Neufchatel for the keeper of a cookshop!  And for whom?  For cowherds! tatterdemalions!”

The druggist was passing.  He had on a frock-coat, nankeen trousers, beaver shoes, and, for a wonder, a hat with a low crown.

“Your servant!  Excuse me, I am in a hurry.”  And as the fat widow asked where he was going—­

“It seems odd to you, doesn’t it, I who am always more cooped up in my laboratory than the man’s rat in his cheese.”

“What cheese?” asked the landlady.

“Oh, nothing! nothing!” Homais continued.  “I merely wished to convey to you, Madame Lefrancois, that I usually live at home like a recluse.  To-day, however, considering the circumstances, it is necessary—­”

“Oh, you’re going down there!” she said contemptuously.

“Yes, I am going,” replied the druggist, astonished.  “Am I not a member of the consulting commission?”

Mere Lefrancois looked at him for a few moments, and ended by saying with a smile—­

“That’s another pair of shoes!  But what does agriculture matter to you?  Do you understand anything about it?”

“Certainly I understand it, since I am a druggist—­that is to say, a chemist.  And the object of chemistry, Madame Lefrancois, being the knowledge of the reciprocal and molecular action of all natural bodies, it follows that agriculture is comprised within its domain.  And, in fact, the composition of the manure, the fermentation of liquids, the analyses of gases, and the influence of miasmata, what, I ask you, is all this, if it isn’t chemistry, pure and simple?”

The landlady did not answer.  Homais went on—­

“Do you think that to be an agriculturist it is necessary to have tilled the earth or fattened fowls oneself?  It is necessary rather to know the composition of the substances in question—­the geological strata, the atmospheric actions, the quality of the soil, the minerals, the waters, the density of the different bodies, their capillarity, and what not.  And one must be master of all the principles of hygiene in order to direct, criticize the construction of buildings, the feeding of animals, the diet of domestics.  And, moreover, Madame Lefrancois, one must know botany, be able to distinguish between plants, you understand, which are the wholesome and those that are deleterious, which are unproductive and which nutritive, if it is well to pull them up here and re-sow them there, to propagate some, destroy others; in brief, one must keep pace with science by means of pamphlets and public papers, be always on the alert to find out improvements.”