There was, a long time ago, in the region, a wizard, rebutter, poacher, shaving (truffle caveur). Of course, he didn't like to be followed in the oak woods or on the banks of the Colostre and he knew how to slip into nature.

People would go to him for a lost piece of jewellery, a kidney pain , rheumatism or a bad cold. He also cared for animals. His dog was accused of being as witchcraft as his master, in fact he was a brave scribbler, a precious and indispensable helper in searching for truffles...

A man had to leave the area at an early age when his parents died, he returned to live there with a pension that allowed him to restore the small family home and made a living by gardening and rereading over and over again the same books he had brought back in a large metal trunk.

The city had converted him to the cult of reading and science and had made him a strong spirit. However, for some painful lumbago, he once went to the rebutter who eased the pain The wizard did not want money for his services. The man then offered him a gift that seemed most precious to him: a book, a book on botany with scientific sketches. The brave rebutter was all the more touched by this gift, as he could not read.

A friendship and then a complicity between the two lonely men gradually developed. The poacher never admitted that he could not read, but he confided that he never ate the truffles he cared for and sold or traded.

The scientist had the good taste not to laugh when he learned that the truffle caveur believed very strongly that truffles were the solidified desires of people who had died of concupiscence and that this was why they were black in colour.

There were some nice discussions in the evening after the thrush skewer or roast partridge shared by the two friends. One spoke of a harmless fungus, the other assailed evidence: his dog had been seized with erotic fury after biting a small truffle and the bitch from the neighbouring farm had had twelve puppies, no less! "And that was scientific evidence!"

Friendship was never damaged by these discussions....

One day the "woman" appeared in the form of a widow who was soon to approach her opulent forties. The lady had some grounds that lazed in the sun in summer and froze in winter. The arms and the pension of the strong mind were not without useful charms. They approached each other through third parties and a marriage was concluded that the rebutter approved as soon as he knew he was the welcome guest of the future household.

Reason has always had a hard time controlling feelings. The scientist became very aware of his long celibacy and began to doubt, not his enthusiasm for his bride, but his ability to express it. In this matter, doubt maintains doubt and doubt leads to impairment.

The scientist confided to the rebutter his fear of having the aiguillettes tied by doubt.

The day before the wedding in an evening made crystal clear by the Mistral in January, the rebutter invited his friend to a last bachelor's meal. For the occasion he made a brouillade of truffles a little rustic, but firmly flavoured with three magnificent truffles grated in the eggs with a lot of friendship.

The scientist was touched by this attention; he ate the omelette on his own, which of course his friend did not want to touch.

The next day he married the widow.

Ten moons later, the first triplets of the region were born . They were beautiful!

The rebutter came to compliment his friend for saying, "It's scientific, I tell you!".

The strong spirit wondered until the end of his life what would have been the case if the omelette had been made with five truffles!

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