AUTUMN 115 



put into water, he tries to get out ; but after 

 a dry spell we have held him under run- 

 ning water, and have seen him drink, with 

 a slow elongation of the neck at each swal- 

 low. On a mild morning, after rain, he 

 takes a joy in promenades ; and from the 

 window he seems to be eating petunias 

 and alyssum, snapping at them like a hen. 

 Our turtles, like other savages, have been 

 spoiled by civilization. They fell into a 

 way of coming into the house out of the 

 cold. They did not learn that worms and 

 things are not provided in a house; and 

 as they refused to eat anything that we 

 offered to them, they paid the penalty of 

 culture with their lives. They refused to 

 bury themselves as the cold increased, and 

 lumbered into the kitchen whenever the 

 door was opened, making something of a 

 struggle to climb the step. They knew 

 where it was warm ; and if the door failed 

 to open, they sat on the grass and became 

 comatose, like beggars who faint of starva- 

 tion or " throw fits " on your door-step in 

 revenge for the refusal of drink-money and 

 your second-best clothes. 



