On the quay, on sunday evenings, when Tartarin returned from the hunt, his hat dangling from the end of his gun, the stevedores would nod to him respectfully and eying the arms bulging the sleeves of his tightly buttoned jacket, would murmur to one another, "He's strong he is.

He's got double muscles." The possession of double muscles is something you hear about only in Tarascon.
However, in spite of his numerous talents, double muscles, popular favour and the so precious esteem of the gallant Commandant Bravida (Quartermaster.

Ret) Tartarin was not happy.

This small-town life weighed him down, stifled him.

The great man of Tarascon was bored with Tarascon.