296 THE BOOK OF A NATURALIST 



condescending like the cat; nor a flattering parasite 

 like the dog. He views us from a totally different, 

 a sort of democratic, standpoint as fellow-citizens 

 and brothers, and takes it for granted, or grunted, 

 that we understand his language, and without 

 servility or insolence he has a natural, pleasant, 

 camerados-all or hail-fellow-well-met air with us. 



It may come as a shock to some of my readers 

 when I add that I like him, too, in the form of 

 rashers on the breakfast-table; and this I say 

 with a purpose on account of much wild and idle 

 talk one hears on this question even from one's 

 dearest friends the insincere horror expressed and 

 denunciation of the revolting custom of eating our 

 fellow-mortals. The other day a lady of my 

 acquaintance told me that she went to call on 

 some people who lived a good distance from her 

 house, and was obliged to stay to luncheon. This 

 consisted mainly of roast pork, and as if that was 

 not enough, her host, when helping her, actually 

 asked if she was fond of a dreadful thing called the 

 crackling! 



It is a common pose; but it is also something 

 more, since we find it mostly in persons who are 

 frequently in bad health and are restricted to a low 

 diet; naturally at such times vegetarianism appeals 

 to them. As their health improves they think less 

 of their fellow-mortals. A little chicken broth is 

 found uplifting; then follows the inevitable sole, 

 then calves' brains, then a sweetbread, then a 

 partridge, and so on, progressively, until they are 



