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Harris and I went after him。
But we were not to get down so soon as we had anticipated。 Storms
come quickly in these regions； and before we had walked for quarter
of an hour it became a question of seeking shelter or living for
the rest of the day in soaked clothes。 We decided on the former
alternative； and selected a tree that； under ordinary
circumstances； should have been ample protection。 But a Black
Forest thunderstorm is not an ordinary circumstance。 We consoled
ourselves at first by telling each other that at such a rate it
could not last long。 Next； we endeavoured to comfort ourselves
with the reflection that if it did we should soon be too wet to
fear getting wetter。
〃As it turned out；〃 said Harris； 〃I should have been almost glad if
there had been a restaurant up here。〃
〃I see no advantage in being both wet AND hungry；〃 said George。 〃I
shall give it another five minutes； then I am going on。〃
〃These mountain solitudes；〃 I remarked； 〃are very attractive in
fine weather。 On a rainy day； especially if you happen to be past
the age when〃
At this point there hailed us a voice； proceeding from a stout
gentleman； who stood some fifty feet away from us under a big
umbrella。
〃Won't you come inside？〃 asked the stout gentleman。
〃Inside where？〃 I called back。 I thought at first he was one of
those fools that will try to be funny when there is nothing to be
funny about。
〃Inside the restaurant；〃 he answered。
We left our shelter and made for him。 We wished for further
information about this thing。
〃I did call to you from the window；〃 said the stout gentleman； as
we drew near to him； 〃but I suppose you did not hear me。 This
storm may last for another hour； you will get SO wet。〃
He was a kindly old gentleman； he seemed quite anxious about us。
I said： 〃It is very kind of you to have come out。 We are not
lunatics。 We have not been standing under that tree for the last
half…hour knowing all the time there was a restaurant； hidden by
the trees； within twenty yards of us。 We had no idea we were
anywhere near a restaurant。〃
〃I thought maybe you hadn't；〃 said the old gentleman； 〃that is why
I came。〃
It appeared that all the people in the inn had been watching us
from the windows also； wondering why we stood there looking
miserable。 If it had not been for this nice old gentleman the
fools would have remained watching us； I suppose； for the rest of
the afternoon。 The landlord excused himself by saying he thought
we looked like English。 It is no figure of speech。 On the
Continent they do sincerely believe that every Englishman is mad。
They are as convinced of it as is every English peasant that
Frenchmen live on frogs。 Even when one makes a direct personal
effort to disabuse them of the impression one is not always
successful。
It was a comfortable little restaurant； where they cooked well；
while the Tischwein was really most passable。 We stopped there for
a couple of hours； and dried ourselves and fed ourselves； and
talked about the view； and just before we left an incident occurred
that shows how much more stirring in this world are the influences
of evil compared with those of good。
A traveller entered。 He seemed a careworn man。 He carried a brick
in his hand； tied to a piece of rope。 He entered nervously and
hurriedly； closed the door carefully behind him； saw to it that it
was fastened； peered out of the window long and earnestly； and
then； with a sigh of relief； laid his brick upon the bench beside
him and called for food and drink。
There was something mysterious about the whole affair。 One
wondered what he was going to do with the brick； why he had closed
the door so carefully； why he had looked so anxiously from the
window； but his aspect was too wretched to invite conversation； and
we forbore； therefore； to ask him questions。 As he ate and drank
he grew more cheerful； sighed less often。 Later he stretched his
legs； lit an evil…smelling cigar； and puffed in calm contentment。
Then it happened。 It happened too suddenly for any detailed
explanation of the thing to be possible。 I recollect a Fraulein
entering the room from the kitchen with a pan in her hand。 I saw
her cross to the outer door。 The next moment the whole room was in
an uproar。 One was reminded of those pantomime transformation
scenes where； from among floating clouds； slow music； waving
flowers； and reclining fairies； one is suddenly transported into
the midst of shouting policemen tumbling yelling babies； swells
fighting pantaloons； sausages and harlequins； buttered slides and
clowns。 As the Fraulein of the pan touched the door it flew open；
as though all the spirits of sin had been pressed against it；
waiting。 Two pigs and a chicken rushed into the room； a cat that
had been sleeping on a beer…barrel spluttered into fiery life。 The
Fraulein threw her pan into the air and lay down on the floor。 The
gentleman with the brick sprang to his feet； upsetting the table
before him with everything upon it。
One looked to see the cause of this disaster： one discovered it at
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