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[Illustration: BLUEBEARD, THE SHETLAND PONY.
_Page 85._]
LIVE TOYS;
Or
Anecdotes of Our Four-Legged and Other Pets.
by
EMMA DAVENPORT,
Authoress Of
"Jamie's Questions," "Weak And Wilful," etc.
With Illustrations by Harrison Weir.
London:
Griffith and Farran,
(Successors to Newbery and Harris,)
Corner of St. Paul's Churchyard.
M DCCC LXII.
London:
Printed by Wertheimer and Co.,
Circus Place, Finsbury.
TO
LADY NEPEAN,
THIS
LITTLE VOLUME IS DEDICATED,
AS
CONTAINING TRUE ANECDOTES OF THE VARIOUS ANIMALS THAT WERE IN THE
POSSESSION OF A LITTLE BOY AND GIRL, IN WHOM SHE HAS ALWAYS SHEWN
A KIND INTEREST.
Transcriber's Note: Minor typographical errors have been corrected
without note. Irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have
been retained as printed. The cover of this ebook was created by
the transcriber and is hereby placed in the public domain.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
MOPPY, THE WHITE RABBIT 1
THE TWO BIRDS, GOLDIE AND BROWNIE 4
POLL PARROT 10
NEDDY AND THE RIFLE DONKEY 19
BUNNY, THE WILD RABBIT 31
THE JACKDAW 38
PRICKER, THE HEDGEHOG 50
DRAKE, THE RETRIEVER 55
TAWNEY, THE TERRIER 60
PUFFER, THE PIGEON 70
DR. BATTIUS, THE BAT 75
THE CHOUGH 80
THE KITTENS, BLACKY AND SNOWDROP 83
BLUEBEARD, THE SHETLAND PONY 85
JOE, THE GERMAN DOG 96
LIVE TOYS;
OR
ANECDOTES OF OUR FOUR-LEGGED AND OTHER PETS.
MOPPY, THE WHITE RABBIT.
The first Pet that we ever remember possessing was a large white
rabbit. We were then very little children; and, being at the sea-side,
we spent the greater part of the day on the shore, or rather on the
broad esplanade, that stretched for full half-a-mile round the pretty
bay. When we were quite tired of running there, or of picking up stones
and weeds on the shingle below the esplanade wall, we were enabled to
prolong our stay out of doors by means of the pretty little
goat-carriages that were kept in readiness on the esplanade. Some of
them were made with two seats; some were drawn by one goat, and some
with two. There were reins and regular harness to these little goats,
and we were indeed pleased, when our nurse allowed us to drive in one
of the double-seated carriages. We took turns to sit in front and
drive, and we tried hard to persuade our Mamma to let us have a goat,
and a goat-carriage for ourselves. What a nice Pet that would have
been! But Mamma said she could not take it about, as we travelled much,
and also that a goat would butt at us and knock us down. Therefore we
were obliged to be content with patting and coaxing the goats on the
walk.
During one of our drives in the goat-carriage, we met with a boy
carrying a beautiful white creature with pink eyes; "Look! look!
nurse," we cried, "what is that?" "It is a rabbit," she said, "would
you like to stroke it?" and she took it out of the boy's hands, and
held it close to us; we kissed it and stroked it, and buried our faces
in its long white hair, felt its curious long ears, and wondered at the
strange colour of its eyes. The boy said that a sailor gave it to him;
but that his mother wished him to sell it, as it was troublesome in her
small cottage, and they had no yard to keep it in, and he asked nurse
if she would buy it from him. We earnestly begged that we might have
it; "Do buy it, Mary," we cried; "please buy it." And, after some
talking, Mary gave sixpence to the boy for the rabbit, and, my sister
giving up her front seat and her reins to me, went home with the pretty
creature in her lap.
We called the rabbit Moppy; it was a source of great amusement to us.
Mary contrived a bed for it in a large packing-box in an empty garret
at the top of the house, and when we wished to play with it, it was
brought down to the nursery. We always fed it from our hands. It became
extremely tame, and would follow us about the room, and allow us to
lift it and carry it in all sorts of strange ways; for we could not
manage lifting it by the ears in the proper way. When it began to be
tired of us, it used to get under the sofa, and when we dragged it out
again it appeared angry and would kick with its hind legs, and make
quite a loud knocking on the floor, with what we called its hind
elbows. When this commenced, nurse usually carried it off to its box,
fearing that it might bite, or else she covered it up in her lap, when
it would remain asleep for some time.
Now and then we took it with us when we drove in the little carriage,
and it lay so snugly on our knees and kept us so warm. Before we had
become at all weary of our plaything, or indifferent to its welfare, we
removed to Ireland; and going first to visit grand-mamma, it was
thought impossible to take Moppy, so after much consultation, nurse
spoke to one of the little boys who kept the goats, and seemed to be a
gentle good-natured lad, and with many instructions and requests that
he would be most kind and careful to the poor little animal, we kissed
and stroked our pet, and, burying our faces in its long white hair for
the last time, we made him a present of beautiful soft Moppy.
THE TWO BIRDS, GOLDIE AND BROWNIE.
"Would you like to buy a bird, Sir?" said a poor woman to me one day
when we were just setting out for our walk. She held in her hand a
small cage with a beautiful goldfinch.
"I have one shilling and sixpence," I said, "will you give it to me for
that?"
"I hoped to be able to sell it for half-a-crown," the woman said, "for
I am very poor; I am leaving this place and want money for my journey,
or I should not part with my bird."
"But I have a shilling," said my sister, "and that added to your money
will make half-a-crown, and so we can buy it between us and it will
belong to us both."
We gave our money to the poor woman, and she put the cage into my hand.
The little bird was quite a beauty, his colours so bright, his plumage
so glossy and thick, and his chirp so merry. After displaying him to
Mamma, and to every body we met, we carried him to the nursery, and
placed him on the broad window-seat; Mamma said she was afraid we
should soon get tired of him, and neglect to feed him and to clean his
cage. This, we thought, was quite unlikely. However, we promised very
faithfully; and we commenced with feeding and petting him so much that
he soon became extremely tame, would take seeds and crumbs from our
fingers, chirp to us when we came near his cage, and sing without the
least sign of fear.
One day we had carried him into the drawing-room; and, on opening the
door of the cage to put in some sugar, he darted out. "Oh dear! oh
dear! Goldie is out," we exclaimed; "what shall we do? We shall lose
him." But Mamma quickly got up, and shut both the windows and begged us
to be quiet, and not to frighten him by rushing after him and
attempting to seize him. "If you leave him alone," said Mamma, "he will
perhaps allow you quietly to take him in your hand when he has flown
about as much as he wishes; but he will lose all his tameness if you
terrify him." So we sat down to watch the little fellow, he darted
about the room for some time, and presently alighted on the table,
where the breakfast things remained. First he pecked at the bread, then
tried the sugar, peeped into the cups, and seemed highly amused at the
different articles which he was now examining for the first time. Then
he flew on the top of the picture frames that hung on the wall, then on
the curtain rods, and at last perched on Mamma's head, peeped at her
hair, and looked as proud and happy as possible. And after he had
looked at every thing in the room and well stretched his wings, he
quietly returned to his cage, chirping at us, as if to say, "I have
seen enough for one day, I'll come out again to-morrow." So afterwards
we used to give him a fly every morning, taking care to shut all the
windows before his door was opened. We paid so much attention to our
bird; that he did not seem to find his life at all dull, but he
obtained a companion in an unexpected manner.
Our nursery window was standing open, Goldie was in his cage on the
table, and we were playing on the floor; suddenly my sister exclaimed,
pointing to the window, "Goldie is out! Goldie is out!" and there
indeed, perched on the window-sill, was a little bird, which for a
moment we believed to be our own little pet. We gently approached the
window. "Oh that is a brown bird," said I, "and look! Goldie is safe in
his cage." Nurse now advised us to draw back from the window, for that
if not frightened, the little stranger might possibly be attracted by
the bird in the cage, and might come inside the window; so we retreated
to the opposite side of the room, and watched the little fellow. In he
hopped very cautiously, now and then making a little chirrup, and
twisting his head in all directions, as if to discover with his sharp
black eyes, whether there was anything or anybody likely to hurt him;
now he came on a chair-back, and then becoming bolder, ventured on the
table. When Goldie saw him, he left his seed box at which he had been
very busy, and hopping about his cage in a most excited mannere began
to chirrup as loudly as he could, and shaking his tails up and down, he
seemed to express his great joy at the sight of the little brown
visitor. Nurse quietly passed round the room and shut the window, "Now
we have him safe," we cried, dancing about. "Pray be still, my dears,"
said nurse, "until we get him into the cage." So we again became
immoveable, and there was the brown stranger peeping at Goldie through
the bars, perhaps wishing to partake of the seed and sugar, and fresh
groundsel that Goldie had been enjoying. He was a delicately shaped
thin little bird, all his feathers of a pretty dark brown, he did not
appear to be much frightened when nurse approached, nor did he leave
the table when she opened the door of the cage; but on the contrary, he
peeped in, and receiving a very civil chirp of invitation from Goldie,
he actually hopped in to our extreme delight.
We ran to display our treasure to Mamma. She was quite amused at our
having caught him in so strange a manner, and said that she thought he
was a linnet, or some such kind of bird. He was evidently a tame bird
that had been much petted. He soon accommodated himself to all Goldie's
habits, came regularly to breakfast, and took his fly afterwards, all
about the room, resting occasionally on our heads or shoulders. Brownie
would now hop on our fingers, when we wished to take him up from the
floor; and this we had never been able to teach to Goldie.
The two birds were very good friends, excepting when an unusually nice
bit of groundsel or plantain excited a quarrel between them; then they
scolded, fluttered, and pecked at each other in a very savage manner.
We had a sliding partition made to the cage, and when they began to
dispute, we punished them by sliding in this partition and separating
them for a short time. They used to look quite unhappy, moping in their
solitude, until we made them happy again, by withdrawing the partition.
These little birds went many journeys with us, even crossed to England,
and back again to Ireland, and lived with us for a long time; and I
suppose we became rather careless about open windows and doors, knowing
that the birds were so very tame, and had no wish to fly away.
We were the following summer in another place. There our rooms were
confined and small; so we used to allow the birds to fly about on the
staircase every morning, in order to give them a larger range for using
their wings.
One bright summer morning, Goldie flew out on the landing; and as he
had invariably come back again to his cage, we were not noticing him
much, and never perceived that the servant had gone down stairs,
leaving open the door at the bottom of the flight, just outside of
which door, was an open window. Presently we went to see for him, and
it was some moments before we spied him sitting on the ledge of this
open window. If we had made no exclamation, and placed the cage on the
stairs, most probably he would have returned; but perhaps we startled
him by running down the stairs towards him. Out he went so rapidly and
yet so gently, in the bright fresh air, as if he would say, "Liberty
and sunshine, and freedom of flight in the summer sky, is too
delightful to refuse, even for you, my dear little master and
mistress." He perched on a high tree and looked at us for a while. In
vain we strewed crumbs about the window, and called and whistled. In
vain we set his cage on the ledge with his deserted companion in it,
hoping that hearing Brownie's chirp would entice him to return. He
never came back again, and Brownie occupied the cage for many months;
our care of him being greater than ever, since we lost our other
favourite.
But Brownie's end was much more tragic. We were going away on a visit
for some weeks; and it was decided that Brownie was not to go, but that
he should live in the kitchen until we returned. There was a huge cat
living in the barracks. We always had been in dread of her, and had
tried to make her afraid of entering our door; but whilst we were away,
she one day found all the doors open, and peeping into the kitchen, and
seeing no protecting servant there, she seized our dear little pet, and
soon destroyed him. When we returned home, there was nothing but the
empty cage.
POLL PARROT.
We were staying for some months at a seaport town in France, many
vessels used to come in from different parts of the world; and I
suppose the sailors brought with them all sorts of animals and birds,
for the houses looking on the quay where the vessels were moored were
almost entirely shops of birds, monkeys, etc., etc. It was most amusing
to walk along the quay, and look at all the live creatures that were
there exposed for sale. Such a chattering of monkeys of all shapes and
sizes, such a twittering and singing from every imaginable species of
small birds, such a screaming and chattering from the parrots and
macaws, and such fun in peeping into the cages of white mice and
ferrets. We often wished very much to buy a monkey; but Mamma did not
fancy it, and said they were uncertain ill-tempered beasts, and that we
should be constantly bitten if we had one. First, we longed for this
bird, then for that squirrel, then for a cage of white mice, and so on;
indeed I believe we quite tormented Mamma with requests to walk along
the quay of animals, as we called it. At last we set our affections
upon a grey parrot, the smoothest and handsomest among the large number
exposed for sale. We never heard her say anything, it is true; but we
thought that an advantage, as she would not have learnt to swear and
talk like the sailors, and we should teach her to say just what we
pleased.
The price of the parrot was rather high, because of her size and
beauty, and we longed for her many weeks before we were her masters;
but at last she was placed in our possession as a new year's gift, and,
in addition, a nice cage with a swing, and tin dishes for her food, all
the wood work being carefully bound with tin, to secure it from her
formidable beak.
Cage and parrot were carried with us on our return to England, and she
soon became a great pet. She was not at first very tame; but by much
petting, and by leaving the door of her cage constantly open, so that
she did not feel herself a prisoner, she gradually became more
friendly. The first sign of love to any of us was after my sister's
short absence of a few days at a friend's house. When she returned, we
were talking together in the hall, and Poll's cage being in an
adjoining room, she heard her voice, and recognising it, she came down
from her cage, and gave notice of her arrival at my sister's feet by
her usual croak; she flapped her wings, and gave every sign of pleasure
at seeing her again. She did not, however, extend her amiability to any
one but myself, sister, and Mamma; she was still savage to strangers,
and would bite fiercely if touched, but if we offered our wrists, she
would step soberly on, allow us to scratch her head, stroke her back,
push back her feathers to look at her curious little ears, and in
return she would lay her beak against our cheeks, and make a clucking
noise as if she meant to kiss us. She used to waddle all about the room
with her turned-in toes, and climbed up tables and chairs just as she
pleased. She would get upon Mamma's knee by scrambling up her dress,
holding it tight in her beak. When we were writing or drawing, she
enjoyed sitting on the table, though she meddled sadly with our things,
biting our pencils in pieces, tearing paper, and so on, and once in
particular, she terrified us for her own safety by opening every blade
of a sharp penknife, and flourishing it about in her claws as if in
triumph. We had some difficulty in getting it from her grasp without
cutting ourselves or hurting her. She was a famous talker, called us
all by name, whistled and barked when the dog came into the room;
called "Puss, puss!" and mewed when the cat showed itself, sang several
bits of songs, and asked for fruit and food of different sorts. We
never could teach her to sing through a whole tune. I never heard a
parrot get beyond a few bars; and I wonder what is the reason that they
will learn the commencement of half-a-dozen different songs, but still
cannot remember any whole. I do think a parrot's voice and utterance is
one of the most extraordinary of things, for it always repeats a word
in the peculiar voice of the person who taught it; and, instead of
closing its beak or touching the roof of its mouth with its tongue, in
order to articulate, it invariably opens its mouth wide when it speaks,
and its tongue is never used at all; yet it will pronounce m's, b's,
p's, and t's as plainly as any human being. We could always tell who
had taught our Poll any word or song, from the similarity of voice that
she adopted. Her sleeping-place was for some time on the top of a
chair-back in my sister's bedroom. When we were leaving the
sitting-room to go upstairs at night, Poll used to waddle down from the
cage and come to my sister, who held her wrist down for her to mount,
and having been conveyed upstairs and placed on the floor, she mounted
of her own accord to her sleeping perch, gave all her feathers a good
shake, and settled her head for the night.
Very early in the morning, she used to commence her toilet. Such
scratchings and smoothings of her feathers, such picking and cleaning
of her feet and legs; and having arranged her dress for the day, she
would come down, take a turn or two about the room, and then look at my
sister to see if she were awake. If not stirring, Poll used to clamber
up on the bed by means of the curtain or counterpane, get quietly on
the pillow, and examine her eyes closely. If no wink was perceptible,
Poll would gently and cautiously lift up an eyelid, pinching it softly
in her beak, then go to the other eye and do the same; then she would
wait a little bit, saying, "Hey? hey?" as if to ask whether her
mistress was not yet properly roused. Then she would again work away at
the eyelids, till my sister could no longer refrain from laughing. She
used to feign being asleep every morning, in order to amuse herself
with Poll's proceedings.
I wished to try having my eyelids opened by Poll in the same manner,
and one night took the bird into my own room; but she did not approve
of this change of quarters, and instead of going quietly to sleep, made
such a croaking and grinding of teeth on her chair-back, that I was
glad to carry her back to my sister's room. Indeed, although she was
very friendly with me, she did not manifest the same attachment as
towards my sister and mother, apparently preferring ladies' society.
While Poll was with us, we went another journey into France, and took
the parrot with us in a basket. It was a stormy night when we crossed
from Southampton, and Poll in her basket was placed at the foot of my
sister's berth, and no further attention was paid her. The cabin was
very full of people, and numbers had to lie on the floor, there not
being sufficient berths or sofas. In the middle of the night, the
inmates of the ladies' cabin were all startled by a scream from an old
lady who was stretched on the floor.
"Stewardess! Here! Here! Some dreadful thing is biting me. I have
received a shocking bite on the leg. Do search for the creature,
whatever it is."
So the stewardess came and looked, and could find nothing.
My sister, who had looked out of her shelf at the old lady's cry,
immediately divined what it was, seeing that Poll's basket had rolled
off the berth to the floor, and she having gnawed a hole in the basket,
had put out her beak and bitten the first thing with which it came in
contact.
When the stewardess came to look for the monster, the basket had
rolled, with the motion of the ship, to the other side of the cabin,
and not finding a sea voyage pleasant, she put forth her beak again.
"Oh! bless me! What can that be?" cried another passenger. "Something
bit me. Do find it, stewardess."
Then came another lurch, and away rolled Poll in her basket; and no one
suspected a rather shabby old basket of containing anything but perhaps
a pair of slippers, or a brush and comb, or some such articles. So poor
Poll rolled about in her prison, inflicting bites on several legs and
arms, my sister meanwhile in agonies of laughter on her shelf, and not
daring to say who was the real offender, lest Poll should be turned out
of the cabin.
At last the stewardess said that she supposed it must be rats, and she
ran away at the entreaties of the poor victims on the floor to fetch
the steward to search for the rats. Whilst she was gone, my sister
slipped down from her berth, and took possession of Poll's basket. She
had scarcely retreated with it in safety, when the stewardess returned
with the steward; and rather an angry altercation ensued, the man
insisting that there was not a rat in the ship, and the injured
passengers insisting that sharp bites could not be made by nothing at
all. However, after a long dispute, he begged them all to move from the
floor, and made a regular search.
My sister was all the time in the greatest alarm, lest Poll should
think proper to croak or sing "Nix my dolly," or otherwise to make
known her presence. As luck would have it, however, Poll was either too
sea-sick or too angry to say anything, and the steward announced that
no live thing was in the cabin, and that the ladies had been dreaming.
"But bites in a dream, don't bleed," retorted an angry old lady,
holding up to view a pocket handkerchief which indeed wore a murderous
appearance.
This being unanswerable, the steward could only shrug his shoulders and
retreat from the Babel of voices in the ladies' cabin; and soon after,
my sister had the pleasure of landing, with Poll undiscovered and safe
in her old basket, and we are ignorant whether the old lady ever found
out what it was that had bitten her.
During our journey, Poll often caused great amusement, by suddenly
shouting or singing as we were jogging along in a diligence or slowly
steaming on a river, thereby astonishing and alarming our fellow
passengers; nor did she forget, when occasion offered, to make good use
of her strong beak.
At one place we were entering a town late at night, and the place being
a frontier town, our luggage was all strictly examined by the
custom-house officers before we were permitted to enter the gates. All
having been passed and paid for, we remounted the diligence; my sister
was the last. She had her foot on the step, when one of the men rudely
pulled her back, asking why she had not shown her basket. She said
there was nothing in it but a bird, but the man declared he must look;
and seeing that my sister was unwilling to open it, he imagined there
was something valuable and contraband in it, so roughly dragging it out
of her hands, he tore open the lid, and thrust in his hand. Poll gave a
loud croak, and the man rather quickly withdrew his hand, with a
thousand vociferations at the bird and the basket and my sister. I must
confess I was delighted to see that Poll had made her beak nearly meet
in the surly fellow's finger.
When my sister had regained her basket, and we had left the gate, we
lavished much praise on Poll for her discriminating conduct on this
occasion. She would not have bitten my hand had I put it into the
basket; how did she know that the hand was a stranger's?
When we arrived at our destination in the south of France, Poll enjoyed
the novelty as much as any one. Now she revelled in the abundance of
oranges and other fruits, eating just the best part, and flinging away
the rest with lavish epicurism. And how she basked in the hot sun, and
climbed about the cypress and olive trees in the garden, biting the
bark and leaves, and almost I think believing that she was again in her
wild birth-place, wherever that may have been! She accompanied us in
safety on our homeward journey, went to Ireland with us; and whenever
we travelled, Poll went too.
At one time she took an erroneous notion into her head, that she could
fly; now this was an impossibility, for her wings were very short and
small, and her body very large and heavy. Whether this had chanced from
her unnatural life in a house, or from early cutting of her wings, I do
not know, but she could not support herself in the air, even from the
table to the ground. However, she thought she could, and on one
occasion she tried to fly, when perched on the top bannister of a large
well staircase of four flights. Down she came like a lump of lead on
the floor below, and when we ran to pick her up, poor Poll was gasping,
lying on her back, with her eyes rolling about in a fearful manner. We
thought she would die, but we put some water in her mouth, blew in her
face and did what we could to revive her, and gradually she recovered.
But this lesson was lost upon her. A few days after, she tried to fly
out of a window on the first floor, and came down in the same heavy
way, on the flagged pavement before the door. This time her head was
wounded, and bled, and she seemed stupid for some days after; but she
recovered and lived long after that. Probably these falls had injured
her brain, for at last she began to tumble off her perch, as if giddy,
and then her head swelled very much, and she died in a sort of fit.
I have seen other parrots who were better talkers than ours; but I
never saw one so tame, and so fond of her own master and mistress, she
used to come to meet us like a dog, when we came into the house, after
being absent for walks or rides, knew our times for rising and going to
bed, called us separately by our names, and really showed much
intelligence.
Birds, in general, are, I think rather stupid, and do not understand
anything, but what their own instinct tells them; but parrots seem to
know the meaning of the words they learn: and if others do not, I am
sure that our Poll did.
NEDDY, AND THE RIFLE DONKEY.
Our next pet was a very different creature. One of our aunts had sent
us some money as a present; and I and my sister had many consultations
as to what we should do with it. At last we hit upon an idea that
charmed us both, and we ran to our Mamma. "Oh Mamma, we cried, do you
think our money will buy a donkey? We saw the other day, a little boy
and girl both riding upon a donkey, it trotted along so nicely with
them, and the little boy at the other side of the square has a donkey,
and we should like it so very much." Then Mamma said that a donkey
would be of no use unless we could also buy a saddle and bridle; and
besides that, she must enquire where he could graze, or whether there
was any spare stall in which he could live. These things had not
occurred to us; but we went to Papa, and begged him to find out where
our donkey could live in case we had one.
Now there was a large sort of waste field adjoining the Barrack Square;
a few sheep and some old worn-out horses were kept in it, but I believe
it was not used for anything else. We sometimes ran and played there,
and there was a pond in it, into which we were very fond of flinging
large cobble stones. Papa found that he could easily obtain leave for
our donkey to graze there, and it was of such extent, that it could
find there quite sufficient food; so that difficulty was done away
with.
Then we made enquiry about the price of donkeys. We talked one day to
the nurse of the little boy and girl who rode together. She did not
know what their donkey cost, but told us that she knew a little boy who
bought a young donkey, when it was scarcely able to stand, and so
small, that he had it in his nursery, where it lay on the rug before
the fire, and was quite a playfellow to him.
We thought we should like a tiny donkey to play with in the house; but
Mamma persuaded us that it would be much pleasanter to have one that we
could ride. Papa heard of a donkey we could buy for one pound, it came
to be looked at, and we liked its appearance much; it was in very good
condition, its coat thick and smooth, and not rubbed in any place. Our
other pound supplied us with a sort of soft padded saddle and bridle;
the pommels took off, so that either of us could use the saddle, and
happy indeed was the morning, when Neddy was brought to the door for
us.
I had the first ride, and, owing to a peculiarity in Neddy's manners, I
soon had my first tumble. We proceeded across the square very nicely,
and were about to cross a large gutter, along which a good deal of
water was rushing. I had no idea that Neddy would not quietly step over
it; but he had an aversion to water, and coming close to the gutter, he
made a great spring and leapt over it; the sudden jerk tossed me off
his back, and Papa catching me by the collar of my dress, just
prevented me from going headlong into the water. And we found that
Neddy always jumped over a puddle, or any appearance of water;
sometimes a damp swampy place in the road, was enough to set him
springing. But when we knew that this was his custom, we were prepared
for it, and had no more falls; we rode in turns, and sometimes I got on
behind my sister, and many nice long rides we had all about the fields
and lanes. When we returned home, we took off the saddle and bridle at
the door, and gave Neddy a pat; away he scampered through the open
gateway into the field, flinging up his heels with pleasure. We could
see all over the field and the square from our windows, and soon found
it extremely amusing to watch the proceedings of our Neddy and another
donkey.
This donkey belonged to a little boy, who also lived in the square; he
did not often ride upon it, but it followed him about more in the
manner of a large dog. It had learned how to open the latches of the
doors, and could go up and down stairs quite well.
Our Mamma went one day to see the little boy's Mamma, and when she
opened the door of their house she was much surprised to find the
donkey's face close to her's, and she was obliged to give him a good
push to get past him. When we heard this, we used to watch for the
donkey going in and out, and soon we saw him go into the field and make
friends with Neddy. They held their heads near together and seemed to
be whispering; then they would trot about a little while, then whisper
again. We supposed that the strange donkey was telling Neddy what fun
he had in going into the different houses and getting bits to eat from
the inhabitants, and instructing him how to bray under such and such
windows when cooking was going on. For Neddy soon began to follow his
friend about, and to imitate everything that he did. We did not know
the name of the other donkey, so we called him the Rifle donkey,
because his little master's Papa belonged to a rifle regiment. Neddy
was an apt pupil, for soon after the conversations between the two
donkeys had begun, we were seated one evening at tea, when we heard an
extraordinary clattering upon the staircase, we listened and wondered,
as it became louder. The staircase came up to the end of a long
passage, which led to our doors, and when the clattering reached the
passage I exclaimed, "I do believe it is the donkey coming up stairs."
We rushed to the door, and looked out. Yes, indeed, the Rifle donkey
and Neddy were quietly pacing along the passage. We were thoroughly
charmed at Neddy's cleverness in mounting two long flights of stairs,
and when we had given them each a piece of bread, and patted and coaxed
them, they turned away to go down again, the Rifle donkey leading the
way. He managed very well indeed, but Neddy made rather awkward work
with his hind legs; however, he managed to reach the bottom without
throwing himself down. Next they went under the windows of the
adjoining house, and the Rifle donkey began to bray loudly, Neddy
copied him in his most sonorous tones, and presently a window was
opened and a variety of little bits of food were thrown out, which they
ran to pick up. They came every morning to this window, and the officer
who lived there always answered their call, by throwing something out
to them. When he shut his window, they quietly went away, and about the
middle of the day, when luncheons and dinners were going on, they would
go to other windows about the square, and bray for food. Neddy always
walked behind the other, and did not bray till he began. Sometimes
there were clothes laid out to dry by the washer-women on a piece of
grass, behind the houses. This supplied great amusement to the donkeys,
for as soon as the women went away they would run to the grass, take up
the clothes in their mouths, fling them up in the air, tread upon them,
tear them, and even used to eat some of the smallest things, such as
frills and pocket-handkerchiefs. But this was really too mischievous,
as the poor women suffered for their fun.
No one would believe them, when they said that such a missing
handkerchief had been eaten by donkeys, or that such a piece of lace or
a collar had been bitten and torn by the same tiresome creatures. I
well remember some of our shirts coming home half eaten, and our Mamma
then advised the washer-women to have a boy, with a good thick stick,
to watch the drying ground, and to desire him to belabour them well if
they attempted to touch any of the clothes. This advice was followed,
so that piece of fun was in future denied to the donkeys. But, I and my
sister highly disapproved of this system; we thought that we would much
rather have our shirts eaten, or indeed all our clothes torn than allow
Neddy to be beaten with a stick, to say nothing of the great amusement
it gave us, to see the two queer animals rushing about among the wet
things, entangling their feet in them, and sometimes trotting off into
the square with a night-cap or a stocking sticking on their noses.
However, we still took great interest in their proceedings even without
the poor washerwomen's clothes; for being deprived of that game, they
began to plague the soldiers at the guard room. It had a sort of
colonnade in front, supported by pillars, and the Rifle donkey found
that it was very diverting to rush head first at the men who were
standing under the colonnade. If they tried to strike him, he used to
dodge round a pillar, and then rush at them again from the other side.
Often he singled out one man for his attacks, and then Neddy assisted
his friend, by biting at the same man from behind, but he was not
nearly so active in evading punishment as the Rifle donkey, and
received many a buffet and kick during these encounters. Sometimes the
soldiers punished them by getting on their backs. This, however, was
not to be borne, and cling as tightly as they could, the donkeys never
failed to fling them off, when they would return to the charge with
renewed vigour.
These games of bo-peep, and so forth, apparently amused the men quite
as much as ourselves, and many a half-hour have we sat in our
stair-case window-seat, watching the antics of the donkeys and the
soldiers. Their play usually ended by the Rifle donkey receiving a
harder rap on the nose than he deemed pleasant, then he would fling up
his heels, and with a most unearthly yell, gallop off to the field,
closely followed by the sympathising Neddy, who imitated in his best
fashion both the yell and the fling of his heels.
[Illustration: NEDDY, AND THE RIFLE DONKEY.
_Page 25._]
We were going to leave the barracks, and move to another part of
Ireland; and just before we went, the two donkeys got into a terrible
scrape. Indeed, it was very well that we did go away; for they were
becoming so extremely mischievous and so cunning, that they would soon
have become too tiresome; and although we were charmed with every trick
they played, almost all the grown-up people thought them a great
torment; and the Rifle-donkey had become a great deal more active and
monkey-like, since Neddy had followed and copied him. I suppose he felt
proud of being able to lead the other wherever he chose.
It was extremely hot weather, and all doors and windows were generally
left standing open. Not that it would have made much difference to the
Rifle-donkey had they been shut; for there was not a door in the place
that he could not open. But very likely they were tempted to this work
of destruction by the sight of the open door. Whilst the officers were
dining, the two donkeys walked into the ante-room. The table there was
covered with newspapers, magazines, and books; and perhaps the donkeys
thought that these papers were some of their old friends the clothes,
from the drying-green; so they pulled them off the table; tore the
newspapers into little bits; munched the backs of some bound books;
scattered the magazines about the room; upset an ink-bottle that stood
on the table; dabbled their noses in the pond of ink, and having done
their best to destroy and spoil everything there, our Neddy, I suppose,
was so delighted at the mischief they had done, that he could not
refrain from setting up a loud and prolonged bray of pleasure and
exultation.
This brought in some of the officers, and there they found the
Rifle-donkey trampling a heap of torn papers and books, with the
remains of a blotted "Punch" in his mouth, and Neddy was looking on and
expressing his admiration.
So they were ignominiously turned out with kicks and blows; and some of
the officers were very angry, and said that both of the donkeys ought
to be shot immediately; and the others said that, at any rate, they
should be shut up, and not allowed to run at large about the barracks.
But, luckily for Neddy, we went away in a day or two, and we never
heard how they managed to keep the Rifle-donkey in order. Perhaps he
was not so mischievous when he had lost his companion, having then no
one to admire his proceedings. We only heard that when his regiment
left, some months later, the donkey marched out with them just in front
of the band.
As soon as we arrived at our new abode, our first thought was to find a
field for Neddy. The fort in which we were to live was quite small;
there was a street on one side, and the river close up to the wall on
the other; the square, or rather the small space within the wall, was
gravelled: no where could we see a blade of grass for our poor donkey,
and there appeared to be nothing but brown bog anywhere round. Poor
Neddy was put in a stall at the inn for the night; he must have been
much surprised at the hay, and the luxurious bed of straw; for a bare
field had hitherto been his only resting-place, and green grass the
very best thing he had had to eat.
But the stall could not be continued; and as soon as our Papa had
leisure, he looked about for a suitable place for Neddy.
There was another small fort about half-a-mile down the river: it
consisted of a moat, and a low wall with a few guns. There was one
little cottage inside for the gunner in charge; and the whole space
inside the wall, consisting of a flat terrace, with sloping banks, and
a good space in the middle, was covered with beautiful thick green
grass. This was just the place for Neddy; he would not be able to get
out, and there was nothing inside that he could hurt; for, of course,
the gunner would soon teach him that he was not to poke his nose inside
his neat little cottage; and there was plenty of space for him to run
about, and fresh moist grass to eat, which I should think he would like
better than dry hay in a hot stall. So Papa asked, and obtained leave,
to keep our donkey there; and we rode upon him from the inn, and put
him in possession of the little fort. He pricked up his ears, and
seemed not quite to like the clatter of his hoofs, as he crossed the
planks which formed a rude bridge over the moat. We thought nothing of
this at the time, but we had to think a great deal of it the next day,
when we came to take our ride--in happy ignorance that this would be
the very last ride we should ever take on Neddy's back. We kept our
saddle and bridle in our kitchen, and had to carry it with us to the
fort; so I put it on my head and the bridle round my waist, and my
sister drove me, and pretended I was a donkey. So we came very merrily
to the fort, and having saddled and bridled Master Neddy, I was
mounted, and we proceeded towards the plank bridge. But just at the
edge, Neddy stopped short, laid back his ears, tried to turn round,
and, in fact, refused to cross. In vain we patted and coaxed, tried to
tempt him across with a biscuit, then tied a pocket handkerchief over
his eyes, and attempted to cheat him into crossing without his seeing
where he stepped.
In no way could we induce him to put his foot upon the plank. The
gunner came to our aid; and we all worried ourselves to no purpose.
There was no other way out of the fort, and we were ready to cry with
vexation. At last, Nurse suggested that it would be best to return
home, and ask Papa what we could do; and being at our wit's end, we
took her advice and scampered back to the other fort. Papa, having
heard our story, sent four of the men with us, telling them they were
to bring Neddy out in the best way they could; but, that, come out, he
_must_. When we returned, there stood Neddy, just where we had left
him, staring stupidly at the bridge. At first, they wanted to whip him,
only leaving open to him the way to the bridge; but we declared he
should not be beaten; and the gunner agreed with us, that blows would
only make him still more obstinate.
"Well, then," they said, "as he is to come out at all hazards, the only
thing we can do is to carry him, one to each leg."
So they began to hoist up poor Neddy, who did not in the least approve
of this mode of conveyance. He tried to bite and kick, and twisted
himself about in all directions. How we did laugh to be sure! For when
two of them had got his fore legs over their shoulders, he made darts
at their hair and their faces with his mouth, so that they had to hold
his nose with one hand and his leg with the other. Then getting up his
hind-legs was worse still; for he jerked and kicked so, as almost to
throw down the men; and we quite expected to see the whole four and the
donkey roll into the moat together. At last, he was raised entirely on
their shoulders, and they ran across the bridge and set him down on the
other side.
"Are we to have this piece of fun every morning, Sir?" asked one of the
soldiers, as they stood panting and laughing.
"I hope not," I said, "I dare say he will be glad to go in to the grass
when we come back from our ride; and if he once crosses it, perhaps he
will not be afraid tomorrow."
So we took our ride; Neddy behaved quite as well as usual; his fright
did not appear at all to have disturbed his placidity; and in about two
hours we again stood before the terrible bridge. The gunner came out to
see how we should manage. We took off the saddle and bridle, and
invited Neddy to enter. There was the nice fresh grass, and banks to
roll upon, and to run up and down, looking very tempting through the
gate; and on the other side of the road, there was nothing but heaps of
stones and a great brown bog, stretching away as far as we could see,
with nothing at all to eat upon it. But for all that, Neddy looked at
the bridge; smelt it; and, resolutely turning his back to it, stared
dismally at the bog, as if he were thinking,
"I don't see anything that I can eat there."
However, it was evident that although the fear of starvation was before
him, he could not make up his mind to cross the ditch; and, in fact,
had absolutely determined not to do so.
We were in despair; but feeling sure that it would not do to have him
carried in and out every day; we disconsolately led him back to our
home, and told our troubles to Papa, who ordered him back to the stall
at the inn for the night.
Next day, we tried in all directions to find a field where Neddy could
graze; but no such place could be found. So we had a grand consultation
as to what must be done for him; and Papa said that he could not keep
him in a stall, feeding with hay, for, perhaps, half-a-year or more, as
he expected to remain where we were for a long time. So we made up our
minds to part with our donkey; and we did not regret it quite so much
at this time of year, as winter would soon come on, when, probably, we
should not be able to ride much.
We sent Neddy to the nearest town, about ten miles off; and a little
boy there became his master. And we kept his saddle and bridle, in
hopes of supplying his place some day.
BUNNY, THE WILD RABBIT.
We were now living in England, in a country place--fields and woods and
lanes all around. We took great pleasure in all the amusements of
country life.
Our Papa had some ferrets, which he used to take out for rat-hunting in
the corn stacks with a terrier we had, named Tawney, and other dogs;
and now and then he went to a rabbit warren at some little distance. A
boy one day brought from this warren a hat full of young rabbits for
the ferrets to eat. They were all supposed to be dead; but when Papa
was looking at them, he saw that one of the poor little things was
alive, so he brought it into the house and gave it to me and my sister,
saying that if we thought we could feed it we might keep it.
The poor little thing was so young, that it was a great chance whether
we could bring it up; but we had a cook who was very fond of all
animals, and she helped us to nurse it. She fed it with milk for a few
days, and then it soon began to nibble at bran and vegetables, and in a
week or two could eat quite as well as a full-grown rabbit.
The gardener made us a nice little house for it, by nailing some bars
across the open side of an old box, and it slept in this by the side of
the kitchen fire; but we never fastened it up so that it could not get
out, and in the day-time it was seldom in its box, but running about
the kitchen, and it soon found its way along the passage into the
sitting-room, and then upstairs to the nursery, and into all the
bed-rooms. It went up and down stairs quite easily, and seemed
perfectly happy running about the house.
It was a very strange thing that our terrier Tawney, of whom I have
much to tell afterwards, never thought of touching Bunny, for when out
of doors he was most eager after any sort of animal, would run for
miles after a rabbit or a hare, went perfectly crazy at the sight of a
cat, and was famous for rat-hunting and all such things; but as soon as
he entered the house, even if the saucy little Bunny bounded about just
before his nose, he would quietly pass by, apparently without an idea
that it was a thing to be hunted. In the evenings, when Tawney would
lie asleep on the rug, Bunny used to run over him, sometimes nestling
itself against his back or legs; then would pat his face with its fore
paws, and take all manner of liberties with him, he never so much as
growled or snapped at it, and seemed really to like the companionship
of the poor little creature.