Not only human beings, it is said, but all other animals of earth,
air, and water have their play spells. To the question of how man
can know this, one can only say that man being also animal, must
certainly understand something of the nature of his lower brethren. Our
mental composition is of the same substance as theirs, with a certain
superstructure of reasoning faculty, however, which has enabled us
to become their masters. The various emotions and faculties, such as
love, fear, curiosity, memory, imitation, jealousy, etc., of which man
boasts, are to be found, often in a highly developed state, among the
lower animals, so that it is not at all surprising that among both
birds and mammals we find individual species possessing a more or less
keen sense of humor.
The question of why animals play is by no means new to philosophical
inquiry. Herbert Spencer says animals play in their early or youthful
stage of life because of their "surplus energy," the same reason that
we ascribe to the child, referring more particularly to the strictly
muscular plays, in contra-distinction to vocal recreation. An eminent
philosopher, however, disagrees with him in this, contending that play
in animals is not a mere frolicksome display of surplus energy, but a
veritable instinct and a matter of serious moment as well as necessity.
However that may be, the fact remains that they do play and, as the
writer can aver, in a spirit not at all serious, but with all the happy
abandon of a child.
Among the wags of the feathered tribe the mockingbird and blue jay
deserve special mention, though the raven, crow, catbird, jackdaw, and
magpie may, from the point of mischief, be numbered in the list. In
looking at the ungainly pelican one would smile to hear him called a
"humorist," but as the seal is the buffoon of the aquarium, so the
pelican plays the part of the clown in the zoo. His specialty is low
comedy and generally the victims of his jokes are the dignified storks
and the rather stupid gulls, companions in captivity. The stork's
singular habit of standing on one leg affords the pelican a rare
chance for a little fun, so he watches until a stork, in a meditative
mood, takes up his favorite attitude beside the tank. Then up waddles
the pelican and, with a chuckle, jostles against him, and sends him
tumbling into the water. It is a question whether the stork enjoys the
sport, but the pelican evidently does, for he leaps about evincing the
utmost delight, flapping his wings, and squawking, or laughing, in
triumph. The gulls he treats in a different fashion. No sooner does
he see one seize a piece of bread, or some dainty contributed by a
spectator, than up he rushes with a squawk and prodigious flapping of
wings, forcing the gull to take refuge in the water, while he with much
satisfaction devours the morsel.
"Our Animal Friends" tells of a pelican who made friends with a tiny
kitten. When in a lively mood the pelican, perhaps recalling how his
parents, or himself, in a wild state, were wont to catch fish, would
pick up the kitten, toss it in the air, and stand with his huge mouth
wide open as if intending to catch it as it came down. Puss seemed to
consider it excellent fun, as with a quick motion she turned over in
the air, alighting every time uninjured upon her feet; then off she
would scamper to the pelican, running about his long legs as though
seeking to knock him down. Watching his opportunity he would grasp her
again, toss her into the air, and thus the sport would go on till the
bird himself tired of it.
The mockingbird, that prince of song and mimics, possesses a sense of
humor highly diverting and very humanlike--the male bird that is, for
the female views life from a more serious standpoint, her domestic
duties, it would seem, weighing heavily upon her mind. We speak of
the "thieving" instinct of this bird, as well as of the blue jay, and
other kindred species, because of that mischievous spirit which leads
them to seize any small bright article which comes in their way, and,
when unobserved, to secrete it. That they never purloin or hide these
objects when observed is thought to be proof conclusive that it is done
from the pure love of stealing and nothing else.
"I hide and you seek." In that childish game does not the one who is to
secrete the article insist that the "finder" close his eyes till the
object sought is carefully hidden? What amusement would be afforded
the jay, or the mockingbird, should he attempt to secrete an article
while you are looking? If we could only interpret the sparkle in their
bead-like eyes, as we can that in a child's when engaged in the same
game, how much mischief we would read there as the owner of these
secreted articles hunts "high and low" for them in presence of the
fun-loving birds!
"Where did you hide it, Jay?" pleaded a lady, who had left her silver
thimble upon a table, and after a few minutes' absence returned to find
it gone. "There has been nobody in the room since I left, so you must
have taken it."
Mr. Jay, the pet of the household, hopped into his cage, and, standing
upon his perch, looked demurely at the questioner.
"You are a naughty bird," said his mistress, who had in remembrance
finger-rings, watch-keys, collar-buttons, and similar articles, which,
from time to time, had as mysteriously disappeared, "and I am going to
shut you in," which she did, fastening the insecure door of his prison
with a stout piece of string.
Jay gave a shrill shriek, as of laughter, when his mistress continued
the search, turning up the edge of the carpet, searching the pockets
of garments hanging on the wall, anywhere, everywhere, that articles,
one-time missing, had been secreted. But look where she would the
thimble could not be found.
A month went by, and still Jay remained an unwilling, if not a subdued,
prisoner. As his mistress one morning sat sewing in the room, Jay gave
a final peck at the string which confined him, and at once, without a
word, hopped to a chair from which one rung was missing. His mistress
was watching him, and to her intense amusement saw him very deftly
extract from the hole in the leg her lost thimble.
In the same household came, as visitor, a little boy named Johnny,
of a very peevish and fretful disposition. When refused anything he
especially desired, the whole house was made to resound with shrieks
of: "Ma, ma, ma-a-a-a!"
Jay listened very attentively at first, but in a few days had not only
caught the words but the very intonation. Johnny never entered the
room without the bird crying in a peevish tone, in a very ecstacy of
mischief: "Ma, ma, ma-a-a!"
"I hate that bird," said the boy one day, when Jay had greeted him with
an unusually whining cry: "He ought to be killed. He makes me nervous."
"Then I would stop whining if I were you," suggested his mother, and
Johnny wisely concluded he would.
A mockingbird which frequented the grounds of a gentleman in Virginia
was noted not only as a most mischievous fellow, but as one of the
most divine songsters of his tribe. So heavenly was his music, and
so superior to that of his fellows, that at eventide in the general
chorus his voice soared above all the rest. Men, women, and children
gathered--for his fame had traveled far and near--to hear him sing,
but in the very midst of his divine strains, Jip--for so they named
him--would suddenly cease, and flying away, conceal himself behind a
chimney on the housetop. Presently he would sneak down to the eaves
and peer cautiously over, to see if his self-invited audience had
scattered. If they were still there he would again hide himself,
returning shortly to peer over the eaves again. As soon as the back of
his last auditor was visible down he would fly to his chosen perch and
resume his glorious song, tempting his audience to return. This time
he would regale them with the choicest of his trills, breaking off in
the midst as before and mischievously flying away to hide himself. This
little comedy he would repeat three or four times during an afternoon
or a moonlight night.
A black cat of the household was a recipient of his practical jokes.
When she was passing Jip found it exceedingly amusing to spring upon
her back, give her a sharp dig with his beak, and then spring nimbly
to a low branch, exulting over the cat's vain effort to locate her
tormentor.
A favorite joke of a mockingbird in Richmond, Va., was, when espying a
dog, to utter a shrill whistle in exact imitation of a man summoning
that animal. Thus peremptorily called, the canine would suddenly halt,
prick up his ears, look up and down the street, then, seeing no master,
trot on his way. Again the bird would whistle, but in a more mandatory
tone than before. The dog would stop, gaze about in a puzzled manner,
then, in response to another whistle, dash forward in the direction
of the sound. The mystification of the dog appeared to afford the
mockingbird the most delight, more particularly when not only one dog,
but several would collect under his cage, whining and barking, vainly
seeking to locate their masters.
Among the mammals, the elephant, in general estimation, possesses the
drollest sense of humor. The writer never will forget the mischievous
pranks of a huge fellow among a herd of elephants tethered in a pen
in Central Park, New York. Only those beyond his reach escaped his
teasing, his sinuous trunk tickling those near, now here, now there,
his little pig-like eyes twinkling with genuine humor. His companions
did not respond in kind, not feeling perhaps in a playful mood, which
fact seemed in no way to diminish the big fellow's amusement, for
he continued the sport at intervals much to the edification of the
spectators.
Even when engaged in piling up huge slabs of lumber in the sawmills
in India, these huge animals while away the tedious hours of labor by
many a little prank or joke at the expense of their drivers. A favorite
one is, after disposing of one load and returning for another, to fill
their trunks with odds and ends as they move leisurely along, a stray
nail, three or four pebbles, a tuft of grass with a bit of earth still
clinging to its roots, a discarded cheroot, or other small articles
which may lie in their paths. These are collected, and when the trunk
is packed to their satisfaction, quietly curled upward and the mass
blown against the naked stomachs of the drivers dozing upon their backs.