dours, covering acres with the maze of their still standing walls,
one may wander for hours.

The fruiterer and greengrocer is a person unknown in the Vosges. Most
things of that kind grow wild, and are to be had for the picking. It is
difficult to keep to any programme when walking through the Vosges, the
temptation on a hot day to stop and eat fruit generally being too strong
for resistance. Raspberries, the most delicious I have ever tasted, wild
strawberries, currants, and gooseberries, grow upon the hill-sides as
black-berries by English lanes. The Vosges small boy is not called upon
to rob an orchard; he can make himself ill without sin. Orchards exist
in the Vosges mountains in plenty; but to trespass into one for the
purpose of stealing fruit would be as foolish as for a fish to try and
get into a swimming bath without paying. Still, of course, mistakes do
occur.

One afternoon in the course of a climb we emerged upon a plateau, where
we lingered perhaps too long, eating more fruit than may have been good
for us; it was so plentiful around us, so varied. We commenced with a
few late strawberries, and from those we passed to raspberries. Then
Harris found a greengage-tree with some early fruit upon it, just
perfect.

"This is about the best thing we have struck," said George; "we had
better make the most of this." Which was good advice, on the face of it.

"It is a pity," said Harris, "that the pears are still so hard."

He grieved about this for a while, but later on came across some
remarkably fine yellow plums and these consoled him somewhat.

"I suppose we are still a bit too far north for pineapples," said George.
"I feel I could just enjoy a fresh pineapple. This commonplace fruit
palls upon one after a while."

"Too much bush fruit and not enough tree, is the fault I find," said
Harris. "Myself, I should have liked a few more greengages."

"Here is a man coming up the hill," I observed, "who looks like a native.
Maybe, he will know where we can find some more greengages."

"He walks well for an old chap," remarked Harris.

He certainly was climbing the hill at a remarkable pace. Also, so far as
we were able to judge at that distance, he appeared to be in a remarkably
cheerful mood, singing and shouting at the top of his voice,
gesticulating, and waving his arms.

"What a merry old soul it is," said Harris; "it does one good to watch
him. But why does he carry his stick over his sho