Jean-Honore Fragonard le jour

fitfQ LfiQIEQ
“Some king’s getting married and wants us to come.”
“Oh dear, oh dear,” said the Lecturer in Recent Runes.
“Some tinpot king gets wed and he wants us to come?”
“It’s up in the mountains,” said the Archchancellor, qui-etly “Good trout fishin’ in those parts, as I recall. My word. Lancre. Good grief. Hadn’t thought about the place in years. You know, there’s glacier lakes up there where the fish’ve never seen a rod. Lancre. Yes.”
“And it’s far too. . . and the sky’s a deeper blue than anywhere else, it’s very . . . and the grass ...and ...”
He returned abruptly from the landscapes of memory.
“Got to go, then,” he said. “Duty calls. Head of state get-tin’ married. Important occasion. Got to have a few wizards there. Look of the thing. Nobblyess obligay.”
“Well, I’m not going,” said the Dean. “It’s not natural, the countryside far,” said the Lecturer in Recent Runes.Ridcully wasn’t listening. “And there’s deer. Thousands of head of deer. And elk. Wolves all over the place. Mountain lions too, I shouldn’t wonder. I heard that Ice Eagles have been seen up there again, too.”His eyes gleamed.“There’s only half a dozen of ‘em left,” he said.Mustrum Ridcully did a lot for rare species. For one thing, he kept them rare.“It’s the back of beyond,” said the Dean. “Right off the edge of the map.”“Used to stay with my uncle up there, in the holidays,” said Ridcully, his eyes misty with distance. “Great days I had up there. Great days. The summers up there