Trainman, seeing nobody’s getting much off or on, the lonely platform, repeats, advising me how to pronounce these Breton names: “Saint Brrieu!”
I GET PRETTY FRIENDLY WITH THE YOUNG COUPLE and at St. Brieuc the trainman yells out “Saint Brrieu!“—I yell out “S a i n t B r i e u c k!”
Trainman, seeing nobody’s getting much off or on, the lonely platform, repeats, advising me how to pronounce these Breton names:
“Saint Brrieu!”
“Saint Brieuck!” I yell, emphasizing as you see the “c” noise of the thing there.
“Saint Brrieu!”
“Saint Brieuck!”
“Saint Brrieu!”
“Saint Brrieuck!”
“Saint Brrrieu!”
“Saint Brrrieuck!”
Here he realizes he’s dealing with a maniack and quits the game with me and it’s a wonder I didn’t get thrown off the train right there on the wild shore here called Coasts of the North (Côtes du Nord) but he didnt even bother, after all the Little Prince had his firstclass ticket and Little Prick more likely.
