your brother and sister. These two-legged things are people--the
big ones are called men and women, and the little ones are boys and
girls. They don't do us any harm; indeed, some of them are very
kind to us--they give us our dinner, and clean straw in our houses,
and help to make us comfortable. They do their best, poor things,
so you mustn't growl at them."
"Look, mother," said the Lion Cub, "that small thing with the white
skin has thrown something into our house! What does she think we
shall do with it?"
"Don't take any notice of her, my dear." said the Lioness, blinking
her eyes at the little girl (who was "the small thing with the
white skin"); "it's only something that they call bread--she
thinks that we shall eat it. But it's really only fit for elephants
or bears; _we_ don't eat stuff like that. I tasted it once, I
remember, but that was a long time ago, when I was very, very
hungry, and glad to get anything I could."
"When was that, mother?" said the baby Lion. "Do tell me about it."
"Ah, I didn't always live in a house like this, my dear," replied
the Lioness. "I was born far away from here, in a place called
Africa, and I was quite grown-up before I saw a man at all. We used
to live very happily there in my young days--though it wasn't such
an easy life as that we have now. There was no one to bring you
your dinner regularly every day; no, you had to catch your dinner
first and then eat it, and sometimes we had to go a long time with
nothing but a very small antelope or perhaps a bird or two."
The Lion Cub's eyes opened wide with astonishment.
"What is Africa like, mother?" he said. "Did anyone else live
there?"
"Dear me, yes," answered the Lioness. "All sorts of creatures.
There were antelopes and snakes, and several of our own relations,
and hosts of others besides."
The Lion Cub thought for a little while. Then he said, "Why did you
come here, then, mother?"
The Lioness growled slightly. From the next cage there came a loud
roar, waking the two sleeping Lion Cubs, and startling the other so
much that he tumbled off his mother's back.
"Ho, ho, ho!" said a deep voice. "I remember! It seemed such a nice
fat young calf, didn't it?" It was the big Lion next door. The
Lioness seemed quite vexed; she had not known that the Lion was
listening. But he had been, and now he seemed to be in a very good
humor, and went on purring and talking to himself, but the little
Lion Cubs could easily hear what he was saying, and paid the
greatest attention.
"Yes," he went on, "and it _was_ a nice fat young calf, too; I
saw it first, and I remember thinking that it would make such a
fine dinner for us both. I never dreamed that there were hunters
about, and it was a trap to catch us; of course I was quite young
in those days. But it was a trap, and we were both caught."
"I needn't have been caught," growled the Lioness from the back of
her cage, "if I hadn't come to see what you were doing."
"Ah, well," said the Lion. "We were both of us deceived. And then
they put us into small, strong cages and took us over the great big
water and brought us here. I often think of the days when we were
free, but we get along very well here, don't we? It's no use making
a fuss about what you can't help, and really these two-legged
creatures are very amusing."
"Yes," said the Lioness, still with a little growl in her voice,
"but one needn't pretend that one wouldn't rather be free. Those
pumas, now, are always saying how much better it is always to live
in a cage."
The Lion shook his mane scornfully. "Pumas!" he said. "Who would
take any notice of what a puma would say? They call themselves
'friends of man!' They're only friendly because they daren't be
anything else."
"Do they come from Africa, too, mother?" said the Lion Cub.
"No, they live in America, my dear," replied the Lioness. "But
come, it's time we went out into the garden at the back of the
house. You must have a little fresh air." So saying, she stalked
through the little door at the back of the cage and went out,
followed by her Cubs, into the open space beyond.
"Good afternoon," said a lazy, sleepy voice from the other side of
the bars. "It's quite a fine day, isn't it?"
The three little Cubs all turned with a start. There was the Tiger,
stretched out in the sun, looking at them with a sleepy sort of
smile.
Of course, it wasn't a garden really, it was just a large open-air
cage, but there were rocks and trees dotted about all over it, and
it certainly looked very pleasant in the warm afternoon sunshine.
He was a very handsome fellow, was the Tiger, and he evidently knew
it, too. The Lioness greeted him pleasantly, and said with a purr
as she stretched herself out on the ground, "These young people of
mine were just asking me all sorts of questions; perhaps you can
tell them something interesting that has happened to you?"
"Ee-yow!" yawned the Tiger.
"Do, please," begged the little Lion Cubs, poking their noses
against the bars. "Do you come from Africa, too?" added the first
one.
"No," answered the Tiger, "I come from India. I used to live in the
jungle."
"And were you caught in a trap, too?" said the eager little Lion
Cub.
"Gr-r-r-!" said the Tiger, suddenly beginning to growl. "There he
goes!" It was an Elephant, which was slowly walking along in the
distance with a number of children on his back. The Tiger looked
after him with a very angry look in his eyes, and not until he was
quite out of sight did he become quiet again. Then he said to the
Lioness, "Excuse me, but I never see that fellow without thinking
how it was one of his relations that helped to capture me. Ah, I
shall never forget it. I wasn't full-grown then, and I used to
live with my father and mother and my young brother in a cosy
little home in the jungle. Most of the men-creatures who lived
near us over there were brown, you know, not white like the ones
we see over here. My father was getting old, and food had become
very scarce. One night my father paid a visit to one of the
men-creatures' villages and brought us home a goat, and the next
night he brought us a sheep. It seemed very easy to get food that
way, but the men-creatures didn't like it, I suppose."
"Oh, sir," said the smallest Lion Cub, "please tell me, did you
ever eat a man?"
The Tiger smiled. "No," he said, "I never did, but my father--".
"Don't you think we'd better get on with the story?" put in the
Lioness.
"Well," said the Tiger, "one day there was a dreadful
noise--shouting and banging of drums and all sorts of things, and
crowds of the brown men came into the jungle, waking us up out of
our afternoon nap. We were very much startled at first, but my
father told us not to be afraid, and said he would look after us.
Presently we saw one of those wretched elephants coming along, and,
would you believe it, he had actually allowed some of the white men
to get into a sort of castle on his back, where they could shoot at
us in safety! Of course, it was no good. My poor father was killed,
and so was my mother; they captured me, and I was brought here over
the water, and here I have been ever since."
The Tiger stretched himself out at full length and yawned again; he
seemed to be quite tired by his long speech.
"Don't you ever want to be back again in the jungle?" said one of
the Lion Cubs.
"Well," said the Tiger, "sometimes, when it's cold and damp and
foggy, I do. But it's fairly comfortable here, on the whole. Now, I
must wash myself." And he began to lick his coat, just as a cat
does, and the Lion Cubs, seeing that there was nothing more to be
got out of him, that afternoon, started a game between themselves.
APES AND MONKEYS
Anonymous
"Who was it that pulled my tail?" said the cross old Monkey sitting
in the corner of the cage. "I won't have my tail pulled, do you
hear? If any one pulls my tail again, I'll--"
"Well, what will you do, Crosspatch?" said a small brown Monkey.
"Do tell us; we should like to know." And he threw a nut-shell at
the cross old Monkey, hitting him on the nose and making him
crosser than ever.
"Ill complain to the keeper," said the old Monkey. "I'll steal all
your dinners. I'll--I'll--I'll do something dreadful to you."
"Oh, go along," said the little brown Monkey. "Let's have a game at
Touch Tails. You're 'he'!" And he gave a hard tug at the cross old
Monkey's tail, then darted away up to the top of the cage, with the
old one after him and a number of other small Monkeys after
_him_, giving a pull at his tail every now and then, till he
didn't know which one to attack first, and finally gave it up as a
bad job, and retired to his corner again, jabbering away to himself
as to what he would do, while all the others danced about with
delight and swung to and fro on the ropes, chuckling with
enjoyment.
"What a noise those Monkeys do make, to be sure!" said the
Chimpanzee to the Orang-Utangs. "I really think something should be
done to stop them."
"Here comes some of these little men-things!" said one of the
Orang-Utangs. "What queer things they are! Are they really
relations of ours, do you suppose?"
"I don't know," replied the Chimpanzee, "but I must say they are
very poor relations, if they are. Whatever do they put on all those
ridiculous things for?"
"Yes," said the eldest Orang-Utang. "And what very short arms they
have! I don't believe they'd be any good at swinging about on
trees, do you?"
"I'm sure they wouldn't," answered the Chimpanzee. "And then their
feet! Do you know they can't use their feet at all for holding on
to anything as we can? Isn't it silly? They're so ashamed of them
that they cover them up in things they call boots; it must be very
uncomfortable."
"Have you noticed what they do with nuts?" said the smallest
Orang-Utang. "There was a boy here once who wanted to eat a nut,
and he was going to crack it in the ordinary way, when his mother
said to him, 'Don't do that, my dear, you'll spoil your teeth!'
Just fancy!"
"Ah, but have you ever seen one of the very small men-things?" said
the Chimpanzee. "The things they call 'long-clothes babies'! They
are the most absurd creatures you ever saw in your life. They are
covered with white things (which must get dreadfully in the way),
and they can't do a single thing for themselves. They can't walk,
and they can't talk, and they don't eat fruits--they just lie
still, and sometimes they feebly kick about and wave their funny
little arms, and the strange part of it is that their mothers and
fathers seem quite proud of them. I'm very glad we're not like
that."
"So am I," said the Orang-Utangs. "But why do these men-things wear
such a lot of things over their skins?" said the eldest.
"Oh, they don't know any better," said the Chimpanzee. "You know
they are not nearly so strong as we are."
"Ah, but they're very artful, some of them," said the eldest
Orang-Utang. "I should think if they were caught young, you might
be able to teach them to do quite a lot of tricks."
"I dare say," replied the Chimpanzee. "Only I expect it would take
a lot of trouble and time."
"I'm glad I'm not a man-thing," said the youngest Orang-Utang. "It
must be horrid to have to wear clothes."
"There are those Monkeys again," said the Chimpanzee. "I wonder
what they are doing now. They are always up to some game or other.
I declare they are nearly as foolish as men."
The Monkeys seemed to be all running after each other, fighting and
squabbling, and grabbing at lettuce and pieces of banana, and
making grimaces at each other, and scolding away until the
Chimpanzee could scarcely hear the sound of its own voice.
"Oh, no," said the small Orang-Utang, who was a kind-hearted little
fellow, "they are very foolish, but I shouldn't say they were as
bad as that!"
"Well, no, perhaps not," said the Chimpanzee.
THE HIPPOPOTAMUS AND THE RHINOCEROS
Anonymous
"Ugh!" grunted the big Hippopotamus. "I think I shall have a bath.
Oh, dear me, I feel so sleepy!" And he opened his mouth and gave a
tremendous yawn.
"Well!" said a deep, gruff voice from the other side of the
railings. "Well! If I had a mouth as large and as ugly as that I
would keep it shut, at any rate."
It was the Rhinoceros, next door. The Hippopotamus and he didn't
get on very well together; indeed, they were always quarreling, so
that it was just as well that there were bars between them.
The Hippopotamus turned round angrily. "Ugly?" he said. "Who are
you calling ugly? I am sure I'm just as pretty as you are, with
that great horn sticking out of your nose. I don't think it looks
at all nice."
"H'm!" said the Rhinoceros. "I don't care if it doesn't. It's been
very useful to me, all the same."
"Well," returned the Hippopotamus, "and so has my mouth, so there!
If it had been any smaller, I shouldn't have been able to get it
round, for it was rather a large boat."
"Whatever are you talking about?" demanded the Rhinoceros. "Look
here! Let's stop quarreling for a bit, and you shall tell me your
story and I'll tell you mine. Fire away!"
"Ah, that's just what the men did," said the Hippopotamus. "We were
all swimming in the river, when they came down in their boat. It
was what they call a canoe (so the Flamingoes told me), and most of
the men in it were black; but there was one white man who had a
curious stick in his hand, which he every now and then would point
at some bird or animal, and then he made tire come out of the
stick, and the bird or animal generally got hurt.
"I lay in the water watching them, when, all at once, the white man
pointed his stick at my brother, and before you could say
'crocodile,' my brother was floating away down the stream with a
bullet in his head. The men in the boat paddled away after him, but
that was more than I could stand, so I went after them. I saw the
white man point his stick at me, but I dived in time and came up
just beside them; then it was that my mouth came in so handy. I
just opened it quite wide and then I closed it again, and, well,
somehow the boat was upset and the men were all kicking about in
the water, splashing and shouting and making no end of a fuss. But
I let them go that time, I only wanted to give them a lesson. Now,
it's your turn. How did your horn come in useful?"
"Oh, my adventure was on land, of course," said the Rhinoceros, who
had been much interested in the Hippo's story. "I was snoozing, one
afternoon, at home, when I heard a curious noise, and I saw some of
those black men you talked about, followed by a white one on a
horse. Well, before I had time to do or say anything, the white man
pointed his gun at me (that's what they call the stick that the
fire comes out of), and the next moment I felt a bullet knock
against my side. Of course, it didn't hurt me--that's the advantage
of having a skin like mine; but it made me very angry. So I just
got up and ran at the gentleman of the horse; he was very much
surprised, and so was the horse, especially when I gave him a prod
with this horn of mine. He turned right round and galloped away as
fast as he could go, with the black men after him. Of course, I
didn't take the trouble to run after them. But, you see, my horn
does come in useful sometimes."
"Ugh!" grunted the Hippopotamus. "I suppose it does. But it isn't
pretty, all the same."
"Well, anyway it's better than your mouth," replied the Rhinoceros,
getting angry again.
"But I can swim!" said the Hippopotamus.
"But you haven't got such a tough skin as I have," replied the
Rhinoceros. And they went on quarreling until the keeper came with
their dinner.
THE GIRAFFE
Anonymous
I am a Giraffe and my name is Daisy. I come from a hot country a
long way off, called Africa; I am quite grown up now and shall not
get any bigger. Don't you think I am big enough as I am? I do.
There is no other animal which is as tall as I am; I am taller than
the Elephant or the Camel, but of course I am not as strong as the
Elephant is.
You need not be at all afraid of me, because I will not hurt you.
No, thank you, I do not want to eat you up at all; I should not
like to eat little boys and girls; indeed, I don't think I could if
I tried, and I am sure I do not want to try. I eat leaves and grass
and hay and things like that; I can reach the leaves of the trees
because I have such a long neck.
One day a lady came to see me here and she had some very
nice-looking green things on the top of her head, and I thought
that I would like to eat them as they looked so nice; so I just
bent my head over the top of the bars of my cage and took a bite at
them. But they were not at all nice, really, and the lady made such
a fuss! She thought I was going to eat her up, I believe. I heard
afterwards that the things I had eaten were the flowers on her hat,
and they were not real flowers at all. I don't think people ought
to have such things in their hats if they don't want us to eat
them. Of course, I thought the lady had brought them on purpose for
me, so I didn't see why I shouldn't eat them. But I don't think
that lady will come quite close to my cage again.
I lived here alone for quite a long time, because they would not
get a playmate for me. You see, there are not nearly so many of my
family now as there used to be, and then we don't like traveling
over the sea at all. But now I have a playmate and he is a very
nice little chap; of course he is not as fine and big as I am, but
he will grow up in time and I shall be very glad to have some
company. I can really run quite fast when I have room, but here
there isn't room enough; and I don't very much mind, because I'm
quite content to walk about gently, thank you. And then I have to
take great care of my health, you know, because I'm rather delicate
and not like the Ostrich, who seems to be able to eat almost
anything. Why, he tells me that he is very fond of rusty nails, and
as for pennies he considers them most delicious. It's a very funny
sort of taste, I think. No, it's no good for you to offer me nuts,
thank you, because I couldn't crack them.
My horns, were you asking about? We all have horns, both gentlemen
and lady Giraffes, but they are always quite small, like mine.
They're not much use to us, you know, for when we want to fight any
one we use our feet--we can give very strong kicks with our
fore-feet, if we like. But, on the whole, we don't like fighting;
we find that it's much safer to run away--you see, we can run so
fast that there are not many creatures who can catch us.
I am, as I have said, very particular about my food, and I don't
like thorns or thistles, so when I come across a plant with prickly
thorns on it, I carefully pick off the leaves with my tongue and
leave the thorns behind. I don't believe you could do that with
your tongue, but mine is a very useful tongue, and I shouldn't like
to change it with anybody. I sometimes find it rather awkward to
get anything on the ground, which is just between my front feet; I
have to put my legs very wide apart, and then bend down my neck,
like this. I suppose it does look rather funny, so I don't mind if
you do laugh at me. But then, you know, you look just as funny to
me, with your very small legs and no neck at all to speak of, and
no horns and no tail; I sometimes wonder how you can get on at all.
I come of a very old family, you know; I believe that you men have
known about me for a very long time.
If you will excuse me now, I think I will go in, as I am rather
afraid of catching cold; it wouldn't do for me to get a sore throat
or a stiff neck, would it? Good-by I I'm so pleased to have met
you.
PARROTS
Anonymous
Outside the Parrot-house there was a terrible noise; a screaming,
squawking, shouting, and crying, just as if the whole place were on
fire, or every Parrot were being killed.
The Macaws were sitting on their little perches out in the open
air. They were very proud of themselves, for they greatly enjoyed
being outside on a sunny, warm day; it was much better than being
in a cage, inside the house. They were all very fine birds; some
had blue heads and yellow bodies and green tails; others had red
heads and yellow tails; there were one or two who were quite white,
but they each one thought that he was a very fine fellow, and they
all shouted and screamed and squawked at the top of their voices.
And what was it all about? The greatest noise seemed to be going on
round one perch, where a big Macaw, with a blue and green head, was
talking very loud and very fast to a group of other birds close by,
and he seemed to be very angry about something. In one claw he held
a large apple, and if you had been near enough, you would have seen
that some one had evidently taken a big bite out of it. This was
what was making all the bother. Mr. Green-and-Blue-Head kept
shouting out: "Who bit my apple? Who bit my apple? I won't have it!
I won't stand it! It's too bad! It was all right this morning! I
believe it was you that did it!" (this was said to a white
Cockatoo). "Oh, you bad, wicked bird! What will become of you? Oh,
you bad thing! Go along, do! Who bit my apple?"
But the white Cockatoo began to scream at once. "'Oh, I didn't!" he
said. "How dare you say such a thing? Bite your apple, indeed! I
wouldn't do it. Don't call me names, because I won't have it. I'll
peck you, you bad bird! Who are you telling to get along? Bite your
apple, indeed! Squaw-aw-aw-aw-awk-k-k!"
Then a little, green Love Bird began to try to make peace. "It
doesn't matter very much, does it, Mr. Macaw?" she said. "It's not
a very big bite, though, of course, it must be very vexing. But I'm
sure Mr. Cockatoo didn't do it, if he says he didn't. But, please,
don't let us have any pecking. You'll find out, sometime, who did
it, I dare say."
"Oh, that's all very well for you," returned the Macaw, "but it
isn't your apple. Who bit my apple? Who bit my apple? You'd better
tell me, at once, whoever it was, and then, perhaps, I shan't be
quite so angry."
"Oh, do be quiet about your apple," put in another Macaw, with a
bright, red head. "Who cares about your apple? Why don't you enjoy
yourself out in the sun? I declare it quite makes me think of my
young days, sitting out here."
"Apple? Apple? Who said apple?" shouted another bird from the end
of the row. "Give me a bit! Give poor Polly a bit! Poor old Polly!
Pretty Poll! Give me a bit; don't be greedy! Who's got the apple?"
Then four or five others all began at once: "No, no, I want a bit!
I asked first! I want some, too! Over here! No, here you are! This
way with the apple! Hurry up! Be quick! Where's that apple?"
Just then a lady and a little girl and a little boy came along past
where the Parrots were sitting. Instantly all the birds began to
chatter and scream louder than ever.
"Look, look at them!" they called out. "Did you ever see anything
so absurd? Where are their feathers? What ridiculous beaks! I don't
believe they could crack nuts, if they tried ever so hard. They
haven't got any wings. Oh, how funny! Ha, ha, ha! Go away, do, you
ugly creatures!"
The little girl and boy and the lady didn't understand what they
were saying, of course. But the lady said: "Come along quickly,
children, and let us get past these noisy birds; they quite give me
a headache with their screaming."
"Well, did you ever!" said the Parrots. "Calling us noisy birds!
I'm sure we're not noisy. They haven't got green heads and red
tails; I don't see what they think so much of themselves for! Well,
I'm glad they've gone! If they'd come near me, I'd have given them
a bite! Silly things! Squawk-k-k!"
The Macaw with the apple was still very sad. No one took any notice
of him, and no one would tell him who had bitten his precious
apple. All at once, it slipped out of his claw and fell on to the
ground. He tried to reach it, but the chain which tied him to his
perch was not long enough, and he couldn't get it. All the other
Parrots began to scream with laughter at him; they danced up and
down and flapped their wings and shouted, and made more noise than
ever. Then some Sparrows flew down and began to peck at the apple,
and this made the Macaw angrier than ever.
"H'm!" said one little Sparrow, looking up at the Macaw, with a
twinkle in his eye; "quite a good apple! I wonder that you threw it
away. Who's been biting it?"
The Macaw screamed and scolded, but it was no good. If he hadn't
talked so much, he might have eaten his apple in peace. Now, he had
lost it altogether.
And he never found out who bit his apple.
RAB AND HIS FRIENDS
By John Brown, M.D.
Four and thirty years ago, Bob Ainslie and I were coming up
Infirmary street from the high school, our heads together, and our
arms intertwisted, as only lovers and boys know how or why.