MY FRIEND THE PIG 301 



So I scratched him vigorously with my stick, 

 and made him wriggle his body and wink and 

 blink and smile delightedly all over his face. Then 

 I said to myself : " Now what the juice can I do 

 more to please him ? " For though under sentence 

 of death, he had done no wrong, but was a good, 

 honest-hearted fellow-mortal, so that I felt bound 

 to do something to make the miry remnant of his 

 existence a little less miserable. 



I think it was the word juice I had just used — 

 for that was how I pronounced it to make it less 

 like a swear-word — that gave me an inspiration. 

 In the garden, a few yards back from the pen, 

 there was a large clump of old elder-trees, now 

 overloaded with ripening fruit — the biggest clusters 

 I had ever seen. Going to the trees I selected and 

 cut the finest bunch I could find, as big round as 

 my cap, and weighing over a pound. This I de- 

 posited in his trough and invited him to try it. 

 He sniffed at it a little doubtfully, and looked at 

 me and made a remark or two, then nibbled at the 

 edge of the cluster, taking a few berries into his 

 mouth, and holding them some time before he 

 ventured to crush them. At length he did venture, 

 then looked at me again and made more remarks, 

 " Queer fruit this ! Never tasted anything quite 

 like it before, but I really can't say yet whether I 

 like it or not," 



Then he took another bite, then more bites, 

 looking up at me and saying something between 

 the bites, till, little by little, he had consumed the 



