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once in the person of a mongrel terrier with pointed ears and a
squirrel's tail。 The landlord rushed out from another door； and
attempted to kick him out of the room。 Instead； he kicked one of
the pigs； the fatter of the two。 It was a vigorous； well…planted
kick； and the pig got the whole of it； none of it was wasted。 One
felt sorry for the poor animal； but no amount of sorrow anyone else
might feel for him could compare with the sorrow he felt for
himself。 He stopped running about； he sat down in the middle of
the room； and appealed to the solar system generally to observe
this unjust thing that had come upon him。 They must have heard his
complaint in the valleys round about； and have wondered what
upheaval of nature was taking place among the hills。
As for the hen it scuttled； screaming； every way at once。 It was a
marvellous bird： it seemed to be able to run up a straight wall
quite easily； and it and the cat between them fetched down mostly
everything that was not already on the floor。 In less than forty
seconds there were nine people in that room； all trying to kick one
dog。 Possibly； now and again； one or another may have succeeded；
for occasionally the dog would stop barking in order to howl。 But
it did not discourage him。 Everything has to be paid for； he
evidently argued； even a pig and chicken hunt； and； on the whole；
the game was worth it。
Besides； he had the satisfaction of observing that； for every kick
he received； most other living things in the room got two。 As for
the unfortunate pigthe stationary one； the one that still sat
lamenting in the centre of the roomhe must have averaged a steady
four。 Trying to kick this dog was like playing football with a
ball that was never therenot when you went to kick it； but after
you had started to kick it； and had gone too far to stop yourself；
so that the kick had to go on in any case； your only hope being
that your foot would find something or another solid to stop it；
and so save you from sitting down on the floor noisily and
completely。 When anybody did kick the dog it was by pure accident；
when they were not expecting to kick him； and； generally speaking；
this took them so unawares that； after kicking him； they fell over
him。 And everybody； every half…minute； would be certain to fall
over the pig the sitting pig； the one incapable of getting out of
anybody's way。
How long the scrimmage might have lasted it is impossible to say。
It was ended by the judgment of George。 For a while he had been
seeking to catch； not the dog but the remaining pig； the one still
capable of activity。 Cornering it at last； he persuaded it to
cease running round and round the room； and instead to take a spin
outside。 It shot through the door with one long wail。
We always desire the thing we have not。 One pig； a chicken； nine
people； and a cat； were as nothing in that dog's opinion compared
with the quarry that was disappearing。 Unwisely； he darted after
it； and George closed the door upon him and shot the bolt。
Then the landlord stood up； and surveyed all the things that were
lying on the floor。
〃That's a playful dog of yours；〃 said he to the man who had come in
with the brick。
〃He is not my dog；〃 replied the man sullenly。
〃Whose dog is it then？〃 said the landlord。
〃I don't know whose dog it is；〃 answered the man。
〃That won't do for me； you know；〃 said the landlord； picking up a
picture of the German Emperor； and wiping beer from it with his
sleeve。
〃I know it won't；〃 replied the man； 〃I never expected it would。
I'm tired of telling people it isn't my dog。 They none of them
believe me。〃
〃What do you want to go about with him for； if he's not your dog？〃
said the landlord。 〃What's the attraction about him？〃
〃I don't go about with him；〃 replied the man； 〃he goes about with
me。 He picked me up this morning at ten o'clock； and he won't
leave me。 I thought I had got rid of him when I came in here。 I
left him busy killing a duck more than a quarter of an hour away。
I'll have to pay for that； I expect； on my way back。〃
〃Have you tried throwing stones at him？〃 asked Harris。
〃Have I tried throwing stones at him！〃 replied the man；
contemptuously。 〃I've been throwing stones at him till my arm
aches with throwing stones； and he thinks it's a game； and brings
them back to me。 I've been carrying this beastly brick about with
me for over an hour； in the hope of being able to drown him； but he
never comes near enough for me to get hold of him。 He just sits
six inches out of reach with his mouth open； and looks at me。〃
〃It's the funniest story I've heard for a long while；〃 said the
landlord。
〃Glad it amuses somebody；〃 said the man。
We left him helping the landlord to pick up the broken things； and
went our way。 A dozen yards outside the door the faithful animal
was waiting for his friend。 He looked tired； but contented。 He
was evidently a dog of strange and sudden fancies； and we feared
for the moment lest he might take a liking to us。 But he let us
pass with indifference。 His loyalty to this unresponsive man was
touching； and we made no attempt to undermine it。
Having completed to our satisfaction the Black Forest； we journeyed
on our wheels through Alt Breisach and Colmar to Munster； whence we
started a short exploration of the Vosges range； where； according
to the present German Emperor； humanity stops。 Of old； Alt
Breisach； a rocky fortress with the river now on one side of it and
now on the otherfor in its inexperienced youth the Rhine never
seems to have been quite sure of its way；must； as a place of
residence； have appealed exclusively to the lover of change and
excitement。 Whoever the war was between； and whatever it was
about； Alt Breisach was bound to be in it。 Everybody besieged it；
most people captured it； the majority of them lost it again； nobody
seemed able to keep it。 Whom he belonged to； and what he was； the
dweller in Alt Breisach could never have been quite sure。 One day
he would be a Frenchman； and then before he could learn enough
French to pay his taxes he would be an Austrian。 While trying to
discover what you did in order to be a good Austrian； he would find
he was no longer an Austrian； but a German； though what particular
German out of the dozen must always have been doubtful to him。 One
day he would discover that he was a Catholic； the next an ardent
Protestant。 The only thing that could have given any stability to
his existence must have been the monotonous necessity of paying
heavily for the privilege of being whatever for the moment he was。
But when one begins to think of these things one finds oneself
wondering why anybody in the Middle Ages； except kings and tax
collectors； ever took the trouble to live at all。
For variety and beauty； the Vosges will not compare with the hills
of the Schwarzwald。 The advantage about them from the tourist's
point of view is their superior poverty。 The Vosges peasant has
not the unromantic air of contented prosperity that spoils his vis…
a…vis across the Rhine。 The villages and farms possess more the
charm of decay。 Another point wherein the Vosges distri