Harry Potter Morning Light

Chapter 2001 "Bullfighting Dance" ([-])
Every morning at seven o'clock, Constance would draw the curtains, whether Bonaparte was awake or not.

This is the rule set by Bonaparte himself, just like an alarm clock.

She thought that after graduation, she would not have to go through this anymore, and she could sleep as long as she wanted.

She turned around, intending to face the glare of the sun, she thought the side was empty.

When she slowly opened her eyes, Leon was still lying beside her. In fact, he might have already woken up, because his eyes were so clear.

There are a lot of hotels that have a design like this, where there is a door between two rooms that seem to be completely separated, and she went through that door to the next room after the welcome party last night.

The strange thing is that every time he went to her room, he would go through the main door outside, as if on purpose to let people outside see her.

The luxury of the two suites is comparable, but his room is more spacious, and the color is mainly green.

Sleeping was really just sleep, they were all in their pajamas, and it was strange how good it was to rest, because soon she was awake too.

There was a smell of gunpowder in the air, which was left by the fireworks that were set off all night, or it might be left by the shells fired by warships at sea.

Anyway he kissed her on this early morning with the sound of seagulls.

"How beautiful," he said, as she wheezed, "like a damask rose blooming with dew."

She stared blankly at him.

"Get up, princess, we have to see guests later."

After speaking, he got up neatly, and his servants began to prepare his toiletries, and Georgiana didn't know if it was time to get up at this time.

Not long after, Margaret came in with the maids. They surrounded Georgiana and helped her back to the next room.

She felt very tired, with no strength in her body, and the maids really thought she had no bones, and she didn't even need to move her fingers, she was dressed again and could go out to meet people.

She looked at the woman in the mirror and thought she was a stranger.

"Ready?" Leon's voice came from next door.

"Yes, sir." Georgiana said listlessly, and stood up again with the help of the maids.

After walking to the corridor outside, he was already waiting for her outside the door. This time he was wearing a black dress with gold trim.

He looked her up and down for a while, showed a satisfied smile, and then led her to the restaurant with his arms bent.

When they opened the door of the dining room that accompanies the suite, Arthur Young, England's Secretary of Agriculture, is waiting for them, accompanied by Fontane.

Originally they were talking in a low voice, when they saw the two of them appear, they both ended the previous topic, and then bowed to the two of them.

"Sit down, please," said Bonaparte, and going to the table, opened a chair for Georgiana.

She took his place next to Arthur Young, and Arthur Young's next to Fontane, and the empty table was soon filled with butter, bread, sherbet, Food like ham can only be regarded as a relatively luxurious breakfast among commoners.

"Did you have a good time last night, Monsieur Director," asked Bonaparte.

"Yes," said Arthur Young, laughing. "I had a very good time yesterday."

"I have read your articles, and you are also a proponent of large farms," ​​said Bonaparte.

"This is generally believed by the Physiocrats of our time." Arthur Young said with a wry smile. "Mr. Quesnay also believed so."

Georgiana said nothing.

This kind of large farm system is similar to the large rented farms in the British countryside and the colonial farms in North America. Many of the large farms that were later bought by "black gangs" and divided into small pieces were left by Quesnay. According to Quesnay's standards, Those who use horses for intensive farming are large farms, and small farmers use cattle for farming. In this way, the large farms that meet his standards are only one-eighth of the total cultivated land area in the country.

Whether it is cattle, horses, wheel plows, or harvesters and threshers, money is needed to buy them. Farmers are keen to take out loans to buy more small pieces of land. When their savings are exhausted, how can they afford to buy new ones? farm tools.

What she is worried about is inflation. The Bank of France, like the Bank of England, also has the right to issue bank notes, but the bank notes they issue have a denomination of 500, which are generally used for large transactions.

This may be a characteristic of the French in the 18th and 19th centuries. If their savings were exhausted, they would not continue to use the newly purchased land to mortgage and then borrow more money, but to farm and pay off their debts honestly.

"What do you think, Georgiana?" asked Bonaparte.

"I know French farmers tie their cattle to their fields," says Georgiana, "and they prefer to use a shovel."

"That's right, that's exactly what I want to ask." Arthur Young asked with a frown, "Why don't you promote it?"

"It depends on how you define intensive farming. A small piece of land does not need a horse-drawn plow at all. Large farms in North America have not been divided. The primogeniture system is still practiced in the countryside. He occupies most of the land left by his father. The rest of the brothers were given less, and this was also done to avoid further fragmentation of the land, I think you have seen those walls in France..."

"Besides, we don't have that many horses," said Bonaparte at this moment. "Draw-horses are much used in the mines these days."

Arthur Young fell silent.

Georgiana realized something.

Napoleon wanted to import good horses from England.

"We are implementing the partnership model." Georgiana said, "Integrate those scattered land without changing the ownership system. For example, the land adjacent to me belongs to two or three families, and I rent livestock and agricultural machinery in partnership with them. Animals can also graze on the land of several cooperative families, and colonial agriculture is different from Aboriginal agriculture, Mr. Secretary.”

"British farms are not colonial agriculture," said Arthur Young.

You just drove the peasants into the factories through the enclosure movement, you didn't drive the aborigines to the west like the pioneers in North America, or let them infect them with smallpox.

"For historical reasons, there are people on the land of France, so we can only integrate people so that they love each other and cooperate instead of merging the land." Georgiana said, "In the past, there were lords to manage and plan fallow rotations, but now we have to Farmers plan their own management, which will be a slow process.”

"Let's talk about something else," said Bonaparte. "What does Monsieur the Director know about the beer industry?"

Arthur Young was a little unresponsive.

So Bonaparte began to talk about the flavor problems caused by using various grains to make wine, and then talked about the difference in taste between English wheat and French wheat, and talked about the influence of sunlight, latitude and temperature on grain production.

Georgiana was so unhappy that she ate her own breakfast and stopped talking halfway through, as if she was not only worse at dancing than Bonaparte, but also much worse at chatting and making friends.

So this time the breakfast will end in an atmosphere that is not completely harmonious.

When the visitor had left, Bonaparte looked at her with his head on one side.

"What?" she said grumpily.

"Cooperate if you love each other?" He smiled and said, "Isn't it joint labor and distribution according to the contract?"

"I just hope that the countryside won't be in chaos." She told him what she just discovered yesterday. The feasibility of using agriculture to absorb the unemployed has decreased.

He probably didn't pay attention to what she was saying, holding him in his arms.

"Are you listening to me?" she said sullenly.

"Shh, let me enjoy this moment."

Then she could only stand there stupidly, blowing the sea breeze with him.

But in this peaceful moment, there was singing from downstairs:

La belle s'est endormie, the beauty is asleep,

Sur un beau lit de rose, on rose-colored beds,
Blanche comme la neige, beauty white as snow,

Belle comme le jour, like the beauty of the day,

Ils sont trois captaines, these are the three captains,

Qui veulent lui faire la cour, they all court her,
Le plus jeune des trois, the youngest captain,
Le prend par sa main blanche, holding her in white hands,
Montez, montez ma belle, my beauty,
Sur mon beau cheval gris, on my gray horse,

A Paris je vous mene, I will take you to Paris,
They were chased away by the local police in the middle of singing.

Bonaparte sighed and released her.

"My beauty, you are afraid that you will cause me a lot of trouble."

She stuck out her tongue at him, went back to her room to pack her luggage, and was ready to go.

(End of this chapter)