Explore "The Olive Orchard" by Guy De Maupassant on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When the shore-loafers of the small Provencal port of Garandou on the Bay of Pisca, between Marseilles and Toulon, caught sight of Abbé Vilbois' boat coming back from fishing, they went down to the beach to help him draw it in.
The Abbé was alone in the boat, rowing like a seaman, with unusual energy, in spite of his fifty-eight years. His sleeves were turned up over his muscular arms, his cassock drawn up, gathered tightly between his knees and unbuttoned at the top, his shovel hat on the seat beside him and a pith helmet covered with white linen on his head, he looked like one of those solidly built, fantastic priests from the tropics, more suited for adventure than for saying Mass.