"Within a bush her covert nest
A little birdie fondly prest;
The dew sat chilly on her breast,
Sae early in the morning."
Burns.
Shortly after the melancholy death of Tip, some one presented me with a
puppy, and some one else presented me with a rook. My knowledge of
natural history was thus progressing. That unhappy pup took the
distemper and died. If treated for the dire complaint at all, it was no
doubt after the rough and harsh fashion, common, till very lately, of
battling with it.
So my puppy died. As to the rook, a quicker fate was reserved for him.
The bird and I soon grew as thick as thieves. He was a very
affectionate old chap, and slept at night in a starling's cage in the
bedroom. He was likewise a somewhat noisy bird, and very
self-asserting, and would never allow us to sleep a wink after five in
the morning. Maggie tried putting his breakfast into the cage the night
before. This only made matters worse, for he got up at three o'clock to
eat it, and was quite prepared for another at five. Maggie said she
loved the bird, because he saved her so many scoldings by wakening her
so punctually every morning. I should think he did waken her, with a
vengeance too. He had a peculiar way of roaring "Caw! Caw!" that would
have wakened Rip Van Winkle himself. Like the great Highland bagpipe,
the voice of a healthy rook sounds very well about a mile off, but it
isn't exactly the thing for indoor delectation. But my uncle sat down
upon my poor rook one day, and the bird gave vent to one last "Caw!" and
was heard again--nevermore. My mother told him he ought to be more
careful. My uncle sat down on the same chair again next day, and,
somehow, a pin went into him further than was pleasant. Then I told him
he ought to be more careful, and he boxed my ears, and I bit him, and
nursie came and shook me and whacked me on the back as if I had been
choking; so, on the whole, I think I was rather roughly dealt with
between the two of them. However, I took it out of Maggie in another
way, and found her very necessary and handy in my study of natural
history, which, even at this early age, I had developed a taste for. I
had as a plaything a small wooden church, which I fondled all day, and
took to bed with me at night. One fine day I had an adventure with a
wasp which taught me a lesson. I had half-filled my little church with
flies to represent a congregation, but as they wouldn't sing unless I
shook them, and as Maggie told me nobody ever shook a real church to
make the congregation sing, I concluded it was a parson they lacked, and
went to catch a large yellow fly, which I saw on the window-ledge. _He_
would make them sing I had no doubt. Well, he made me sing, anyhow. It
was long before I forgot the agony inflicted by that sting. Maggie came
flying towards me, and I hurled church, congregation, and all at her
head, and went off into a first-class fit. But this taught me a lesson,
and I never again interfered with any animal or insect, until I had
first discovered what their powers of retaliation were; beetles and
flies were old favourites, whose attendance at church I compelled. I
wasn't sure of the earthworm at first, nor of the hairy caterpillar, but
a happy thought struck me, and, managing to secure a specimen of each,
and holding them in a tea-cup, I watched my chance, and when nursie
wasn't looking emptied them both down her back. When the poor girl
wriggled and shrieked with horror, I looked calmly on like a young
stoic, and asked her did they bite. Finding they didn't, they became
especial favourites with me. I put every new specimen I found,
instantly or on the first chance, down poor Maggie's back or bosom, and
thus, day by day, while I increased in stature, day by day I grew in
knowledge. I wasn't quite successful once, however, with a centipede.
I had been prospecting, as the Yankees say, around the garden, searching
for specimens, and I found this chap under a stone. He was about as
long as a penholder, and had apparently as many legs as a legion of the
Black Watch. Under these circumstances, thinks I to myself what a
capital parson he'll make. So I dismissed all my congregation on the
spot, and placed the empty church at his disposal, with the door thereof
most invitingly open, but he wouldn't hear of going in. Perhaps,
thought I, he imagines the church isn't long enough to hold him, so I
determined, for his own comfort, to cut him in two with my egg-cup, then
I could capture first one end of him, and then the other, and empty them
down nursie's back, and await results. But, woe is me! I had no sooner
commenced operations than the ungrateful beast wheeled upwards round my
finger and bit it well. I went away to mourn.
When nine years old my opportunities for studying birds and beasts were
greatly increased, for, luckily for me, the teacher of my father's
school nearly flogged the life out of me. It might have been more lucky
still had he finished the job. However, this man was a bit of a dandy
in his way, and was very proud of his school. And one fine day who
should walk in at the open doorway but "Davy," my pet lamb. As soon as
he spied me he gave vent to a joyful "Ba-a!" and as there was a table
between us, and he couldn't reach me, he commenced to dance in front of
it.
"Good gracious!" cried the teacher, "a sheep of all things in my school,
and positively dancing." On rushing to save my pet, whom he began
belabouring with a cane, the man turned all his fury on me, with the
above gratifying result.