168 FOOTING IT IN FRANCONIA 



only living creature that I saw (three berry- 

 pickers and a dog excepted) was a red squir- 

 rel which sat on end at the top of a tall 

 stump, with his tail over his back, and ate 

 a raspberry, as if to show me how. " You 

 think you are an epicure," he said ; " and 

 you stuff yourself so f uU in half an hour that 

 you have to fast for half a day afterward. 

 What sort of epicurean philosophy is that ? 

 Look at me." And I looked. He held the 

 berry — which must have been something 

 less than ripe — between his fore paws, just 

 as he would have held a nut, and after look- 

 ing at me to make sure I was paying atten- 

 tion twirled it round and round against his 

 teeth tiU it grew smaller and smaller before 

 my eyes, and then was gone. " There ! " 

 said the saucy chap, as he held up his empty 

 fingers. The operation had consumed a full 

 minute, at the very least. At that rate, no 

 doubt, a man could swaUow raspberries from 

 morning till night. But what good would it 

 do him ? He might as well be swallowing 

 the wind. No human mouth could tell rasp- 

 berry juice from warm water, in doses so in- 

 finitesimal. 



