"Because I have always stood here without moving," replied Terminus.
"Why, for me to move would be a quite unheard-of thing."
So Jurgen left him, and went into the forest. And there Jurgen encountered a smiling young fellow, who rode upon the back of a large ram. This young man had his left fore-finger laid to his lips, and his right hand held an astonishing object to be thus publicly displayed.
"But, oh, dear me! now, really, sir—!" says Jurgen.
"Bah!" says the ram.
But the smiling young fellow said nothing at all as he passed
Jurgen, because it is not the custom of Harpocrates to speak.
"Which would be well enough," reflected Jurgen, "if only his custom did not make for stiffness and the embarrassment of others."
Thereafter Jurgen came upon a considerable commotion in the bushes, where a satyr was at play with an oread.
"Oh, but this forest is not respectable!" said Jurgen. "Have you no ethics and morals, you People of the Wood! Have you no sense of responsibility whatever, thus to be frolicking on a working-day?"
"Why, no," responded the Satyr, "of course not. None of my people have such things: and so the natural vocation of all satyrs is that which you are now interrupting."
"Perhaps you speak the truth," said Jurgen. "Still, you ought to be ashamed of the fact that you are not lying."