（外文电子版资料）The Sea and The Little Fishes.docVIP

THE SEA AND LITTLE FISHES BY TERRY PRATCHETT Trouble began, and not for the first time, with an apple. There was a bag of them on Granny Weatherwaxs bleached and spotless table. Red and round, shiny and fruity, if theyd known the future they should have ticked like bombs. Keep the lot, old Hopcroft said I could have as many as I wanted, said Nanny Ogg. She gave her sister witch a sidelong glance. Tasty, a bit wrinkled, but a damn good keeper. He named an apple after you? said Granny. Each word was an acid drop on the air. Cos of my rosy cheeks, said Nanny Ogg. An I cured his leg for him after he fell off that ladder last year. An I made him up some jollop for his bald head. It didnt work, though, said Granny. That wig he wears, thats a terrible thing to see on a man still alive. But he was pleased I took an interest. Granny Weatherwax didnt take her eyes off the bag. Fruit and vegetables grew famously in the mountains hot summers and cold winters. Percy Hopcroft was the premier grower and definitely a keen man when it came to sexual antics among the horticulture with a camel-hair brush. He sells his apple trees all over the place, Nanny Ogg went on. Funny, eh, to think that pretty soon thousands of people will be having a bite of Nanny Ogg. Thousands more, said Granny, tartly. Nannys wild youth was an open book, although only available in plain covers. Thank you, Esme. Nanny Ogg looked wistful for a moment, and then opened her mouth in mock concern. Oh, you aint jealous, are you, Esme? You aint begrudging me my little moment in the sun? Me? Jealous? Why should I be jealous? Its only an apple. Its not as if its anything important. Thats what I thought. Its just a little frippery to humour an old lady, said Nanny. So how are things with you, then? Fine. Fine. Got your winter wood in, have you? Mostly. Good, said Nanny. Good. They sat in silence. On the windowpane a butterfly, awoken by the unseasonable warmth, beat a little tattoo in an effort to reach the September