300 THE BOOK OF A NATURALIST 



then, taking an apple from my pocket, I placed it 

 in his trough. He turned it over with his snout, 

 then looked up and said something like " Thank - 

 you " in a series of gentle grunts. Then he bit 

 off and ate a small piece, then another small bite, 

 and eventually taking what was left in his mouth 

 he finished eating it. After that he always expected 

 me to stay a minute and speak to him when I went 

 to the field; I knew it from his way of greeting 

 me, and on such occasions I gave him an apple. 

 But he never ate it greedily: he appeared more 

 inclined to talk than to eat, until by degrees I 

 came to understand what he was saying. What 

 he said was that he appreciated my kind intentions 

 in giving him apples. But, he went on, to tell the 

 real truth, it is not a fruit I am particularly fond 

 of. I am familiar with its taste as they sometimes 

 give me apples, usually the small unripe or bad 

 ones that fall from the trees. However, I don't 

 actually dislike them. I get skim milk and am 

 rather fond of it; then a bucket of mash, which is 

 good enough for hunger; but what I enjoy most is 

 a cabbage, only I don't get one very often now. I 

 sometimes think that if they would let me out of 

 this muddy pen to ramble like the sheep and other 

 beasts in the field or on the downs I should be able 

 to pick up a number of morsels which would taste 

 better than anything they give me. Apart from 

 the subject of food I hope you won't mind my 

 telling you that I'm rather fond of being scratched 

 on the back. 



