“See what a fat one!” cried the Herr Professor. “That is almost a
mouthful in itself; it is beautiful enough to hang from a watch-chain.”
He chewed it up and spat the stone an incredible distance—over the
garden path into the flower bed. He was proud of the feat. I saw it.
“The quantity of fruit I have eaten on this bench,” he sighed;
“apricots, peaches and cherries. One day that garden bed will become an
orchard grove, and I shall allow you to pick as much as you please,
without paying me anything.”