Susan in Paris 3

Now I've reached the words for Wednesday 16. oktober:

You can't judge a book by its cover; And/or The squeaky wheel gets the grease

And/or

For Sale.
Wedding Dress.
Never worn.


 When they hit the main road north of Paris, Linda once again concentrated on playing her Mario-game. Susan pulled the strange book from her bag, and took a second look at it. The covers were frayed, bent and worn. The book looked as if somebody had been reading it with ungentle hands and then in frustration thrown it against the wall, letting coffee cup or whatever beverage he preferred follow suit.
 As Susan already had found out, the book was written in German, it was hard to read it. She looked through the index, where the Latin names of the animals were printed in what Susan thought of as normal letters.
 She found the chapter on Gargoyles and looked up page 142.

Transcription see below ;)

 When Susan had read through this, they reached the last -- or rather first -- clue on Susan and Linda's "Look and See" list: A flea market in a suburb north of Paris. Susan suggested that they stopped for a cup of coffee and to look at the market. Surprisingly Mum and Dad said yes at once.
 Their first stop was the cafeteria. Mum and Dad had coffee while Susan wanted tea and Linda hot chocolate. All beverages were fine and the strangely shaped cakes were delicious.
 Susan quickly drank her tea, and slipped off to browse the stalls. Many of them were uninteresting. Farm produce, cheese and clothing, among these a gorgeous wedding dress with a sign in English saying: "For Sale - Wedding Dress - Never worn." Susan at once began making up a romantic story of a waiting bride and a lost lover, but then the further away stalls with brick-a-brack and old books awoke Susan's curiosity.
 She  looked and looked, and rarely touched any items until she reached the very last stall. This was obviously leftover from the renovation of one or possibly more churches. Processional crosses in mock silver, pictures of saints, none of whom were known to Susan, giant rosaries, stations of the Cross, holy water stoups, small stained-glass windows, stones from columns, chandeliers and strange vessels and paraments in bright and beautiful colours;  and gargoyles. Susan almost jumped. One of them opened an eye and looked at Susan.
 "Wow," she thought, "I must have read too much in that old book, I saw that gargoyle winking at me." Susan rubbed her eyes, and looked once more at the stone figurine. The eyes were jet black, probably some semi-precious stone. And then it happened again. One stony eyelid covered the black stone for just a second. Susan stretched out her hand. She caressed the stony wings, felt the tiny claws and admired the perfect scales on the lithe body.
 "La Gargouille te plait?" she heard a friendly voice ask.
 "Erm," Susan said, trying to understand. Plaitre, ... please? yes that was it. The man asked if she liked the gargoyle.
 Now for an answer. "Erm. Oui, la gargouille me plait beaucoup." Susan said slowly and distinctly. Her French had gotten a little better with  practice during the week in Paris, but she found it hard to remember the words, when she needed them.
 The man smiled at her and said something she did not grasp, except from "Church" and "Old".
 She shook her head and tried again: "Combien ça coute, la gargouille?" She said, hoping she asked for the price of the figurine, and fearing that it would cost much more than the few Francs still left in her pocket.
 "Normalement, les gargouilles sont tres chères, mais cette gargouille la est la seule que me reste de cette eglise, et les gargouilles se vents plus mieux en pairs. Tu peut me payer 10 francs pour elle!" Susan understood the 10 francs part, and emptied her pockets, She had 11 francs and 20 centimes.
 She gave them all to the smiling man, who wrapped the gargoyle in a square of soft, black velvet, then in a red linen cloth, and finally placed the ensuing bundle into a paper bag with drawings of churches on it.  Susan curtsied and sad "Merci beaucoup!" to the smiling man and made her way back to the café without further incidents. Mom asked her, what she had bought, and told her that she had been lucky to get the figurine that cheap.
 "He must have liked you - did you speak French to him?"
 "Yes, I did," Susan answered, "and I understood less than half of what he told me in return. But the important thing is, that he understood me." Susan concluded smiling. "And I got my gargoyle."


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Transcription of the chapter on Gargoyles:

 "Gargoiles are like golems usually made of magically animated or transformed stone. They have animal or chimera traits, and are often guardians of a place such as a cathedral or castle. They can also be depicted as vessels for demonic possession, or as a living species resembling statues."
 "The first Gargoile seems to have been brought to life by a medieval stonemason, who unconsciously infused his hate and lust into two gargoyles that later attacked the town of Vyones and finally killed him when he attempted to destroy them."
 "Not all Gargoyles are evil. Friendly gargoyles are known to battle monsters in order to protect humanity."