“And what is that?”
“Dui hundred besh a hatchin, dui hundred besh nasherin his chuckko, dui hundred besh ’pré he mullers, and then he nashers sār his ratt and he’s kekoomi kushto.” [{30}]
“That is good, too. There are a great many men who would like to live as long.”
“Tacho, true. But an old coat can hold out better than a man. If a man gets a hole in him he dies, but his chukko (coat) can be toofered and sivved apré (mended and sewed up) for ever. So, unless a man could get a new life every year, as they say the hepputs, the little lizards do, he needn’t hope to live like an oak.”
“Do the lizards get a new life every year?”
“Āvali. A hepput only lives one year, and then he begins life over again.”
“Do snails live as long as lizards?”
“Not when I find ’em rya—if I am hungry. Snails are good eating. [{32}] You can find plenty on the hedges. When they’re going about in the fields or (are found) under wood, they are not good eating. The best are those which are kept, or live through (literally sleep) the winter. Take ’em and wash ’em and throw ’em into the kettle, with water and a little salt. The broth’s good for the yellow jaundice.”
“So you call a snail”—
“A bawris,” said the old fortune-teller.