"The nasty, cruel brute!" I said to myself, for it seemed as if he were

doing this out of wantonness, and I was blaming myself for not

interfering to save the poor things from their painful death, when a

thought flashed across my mind, and I stood there silently watching him.

I had not long to watch for proof.

Taking a scrap of paper from his pocket, Shock opened it, and I saw what

it contained. Then taking a monstrous pin from out of the edge of his

jacket, he picked up one of the snails with his left hand, used the pin

cleverly, and dragged out one of the creatures from its shell, reduced

to about half its original size, blew it, dipped it in the paper of

salt, and, to my horror and disgust, ate it.

Before I had recovered from my surprise he had eaten another and

another, and he was busy over the sixth when an ejaculation I uttered

made him turn and see me.

He stared at me, pin in one hand, snail-shell in the other, for a moment

in mute astonishment; then, turning more away from me, he went on with

his repast, and began insultingly to throw the shells at me over his

head.

I bore it all for a few minutes in silence; then, feeling qualmish at

the half-savage boy's meal, I caught one of the shells as it came, and

tossed it back with such good aim that it hit him a smart rap on the

head.

He turned sharply round with a vicious look, and seemed as if about to

fly at me.

"What are you doing?" I cried.

He had never spoken to me before, and he seemed to hesitate now, staring

at me as if reluctant to use his tongue, but he did speak in a quick

angry way.

"Eatin'; can't you see?"

I had questioned him, but I was quite as much surprised at hearing an

answer, as at the repast of which he was partaking.

I stared hard at him, and he gave me a sidelong look, after which he

gave three or four of the snails a thrust with a bit of stick to where

they would cook better, took up another, and wriggled it out with the

pin.

I was disgusted and half nauseated, but I could not help noticing that

the cooked snail did not smell badly, and that instead of being the wet,

foaming, slimy thing I was accustomed to see, it looked dried up and

firm.

At last, with a horrified look at the young savage, I exclaimed: "Do you know those are snails?"

"Yes. Have one?"

He answered quite sharply, and I took a step back, for I had not had my

breakfast. I was rather disposed to be faint from the effects of my

last night's accident, and the sight of what was going on made me ready

to flee, for all at once, after letting his dirty fingers hover for a

few moments over the hot stone, he picked up the largest snail, blew it

as he threw it from hand to hand because it was hot, and ended by

holding it out to me with: "Got a big pin?"




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