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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of My household of pets, by Théophile Gautier
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this eBook.
-
-Title: My household of pets
-
-Author: Théophile Gautier
-
-Translator: Susan Coolidge
-
-Release Date: June 21, 2021 [eBook #65665]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-Produced by: Richard Tonsing, Suzanne Shell, and the Online Distributed
-             Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
-             produced from images generously made available by The Internet
-             Archive/American Libraries.)
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY HOUSEHOLD OF PETS ***
-
-[Illustration: THE FALSE CAGNOTTE.]
-
-
-
-
-                           THÉOPHILE GAUTIER.
-
-                                   MY
-                           HOUSEHOLD OF PETS.
-
-
-                               Translated
-
-                           BY SUSAN COOLIDGE.
-
-                          WITH ILLUSTRATIONS.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-                                BOSTON:
-
-                           ROBERTS BROTHERS.
-
-                                 1882.
-
-
-
-
-                           _Copyright, 1882_,
-                          BY ROBERTS BROTHERS.
-
-
-                           UNIVERSITY PRESS:
-                    JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE.
-
-
-
-
-                               CONTENTS.
-
-
-             CHAPTER                                  PAGE
-                  I. OLD TIMES                           5
-
-                 II. THE WHITE DYNASTY                  25
-
-                III. THE BLACK DYNASTY                  45
-
-                 IV. OUR DOGS                           66
-
-                  V. CHAMELEONS, LIZARDS, AND MAGPIES  100
-
-                 VI. HORSES                            119
-
-
-
-
-                             ILLUSTRATIONS.
-
-
- THE FALSE CAGNOTTE                                       _Frontispiece_
-
- AS FOR THE EYES OF THE CAT, THEY WERE RIVETED ON THE
-   BIRD WITH A FASCINATED INTENSITY                                   17
-
- THE WHITE DYNASTY                                                    23
-
- PIERROT                                                              29
-
- THE BLACK DYNASTY                                                    43
-
- LEAVE IS GIVEN HER TO PLACE HER FOREPAWS ON THE EDGE OF
-   THE TABLE                                                          57
-
- OUR DOGS                                                             67
-
- MONSIEUR WAS STUDYING HIS LESSON                                     81
-
- WHEN PAYING LITTLE ATTENTIONS TO HIS LADY-LOVES HE STOOD
-   ALWAYS ON HIS HIND LEGS                                            85
-
- THE CHAMELEON                                                       101
-
-
-
-
-                         MY HOUSEHOLD OF PETS.
-
-
-
-
-                               CHAPTER I.
-                               OLD TIMES.
-
-
-Caricatures are in existence which represent us clothed in Turkish
-fashion, sitting cross-legged on cushions, and surrounded by cats, who
-are fearlessly climbing over our shoulders and even upon our head.
-Caricature is nothing more than the exaggeration of truth; and truth
-compels us to own that for animals in general, and for cats in
-particular, we have, all our lives long, had the tenderness of a Brahmin
-or of an old maid. The illustrious Byron carried a menagerie of pets
-about with him even when on his travels, and raised a tomb at Newstead
-Abbey to his faithful Newfoundland, “Boatswain,” which bears an epitaph
-of the poet’s own composition. But although we thus share his tastes, we
-must not be accused of plagiarism; for in our case the tendency
-manifested itself even before we had begun to learn the alphabet.
-
-We are told that a clever man is about to prepare a “History of Educated
-Animals;” so we offer him these notes, from which, so far as our animals
-are concerned, he will be able to extract reliable information.
-
-Our earliest recollections of this nature date back to our arrival in
-Paris from Tarbes. We were then precisely three years of age,—a fact
-which renders difficult of belief the statements of MM. de Mirecourt and
-Vapereau, who assert, that at that time we had already “received a bad
-education” in our native city. A homesickness of which one would hardly
-believe so young a child to be capable took possession of us. We could
-speak only in _patois_, and those who expressed themselves in French
-seemed to us like foreigners and aliens. In the middle of the night we
-would wake up and disconsolately ask if we might not soon be allowed to
-go back to our own country.
-
-No dainty could tempt us to eat. No plaything gave amusement. Drums and
-trumpets even, failed to rouse us from our melancholy. Among the things
-most mourned over was a dog named Cagnotte who had necessarily been left
-behind. His absence produced such wretchedness that, one morning, after
-having thrown out of window our tin soldiers, a German village painted
-in gaudy colors, and our reddest of red fiddles, we were on the point of
-following by the same road in hopes of finding the sooner Tarbes,
-Gascony and Cagnotte, and were only dragged back in the very nick of
-time by the collar of our jacket. The happy thought occurred to
-Josephine, our nurse, to tell us that Cagnotte, impatient at being
-separated from us, was coming to Paris that very day in the diligence.
-Children accept the incredible with an artless faith; nothing seems
-impossible to their minds; but it is dangerous to deceive them, for once
-their opinions are formed the attempt to alter them is hopeless. All
-that day long we asked every quarter of an hour if Cagnotte had not come
-yet. At last, to pacify us, Josephine went out and bought on the _Pont
-Neuf_ a little dog who somewhat resembled the dog of Tarbes. At first we
-were mistrustful, and would not believe him to be the same; but we were
-assured that travelling produces strange changes in the looks of dogs.
-This explanation was satisfactory, and the dog of the Pont Neuf was
-received as the authentic Cagnotte. He was an amiable dog, gentle and
-pretty. He licked our cheeks amicably, and his tongue condescended to
-stretch farther and extend itself to the bread-and-butter which had been
-cut for our luncheon. The best understanding existed between us. In
-spite of this, the false Cagnotte little by little became sad, dull, and
-constrained in his motions. He no longer curled himself up easily for a
-nap; all his joyous agility vanished; he panted for breath, and ate
-nothing. One day, when caressing him, we discovered on his stomach what
-appeared to be a seam, tightly stretched as if swollen. The nurse was
-called; she came, she cut a thread with the scissors, and lo! Cagnotte,
-emerging from a sort of jacket of curly lamb’s-wool with which the
-dealers on the Pont Neuf had invested him in order that he might pass
-for a poodle, stood revealed in all his poverty and ugliness as a common
-street cur, ill-bred and valueless. He had grown fat, and his tight
-garments were suffocating him. Relieved from his cuirass, he shook his
-ears, stretched his legs, and gambolled joyfully round the room, not at
-all disquieted at his own ugliness, now that he once more found himself
-at ease. His appetite came back, and in his moral qualities we found
-compensation for his loss of good looks. In the companionship of
-Cagnotte, who was a true child of Paris, we forgot by slow degrees
-Tarbes and the high mountains which we had been used to see from our
-windows. We learned French, and we also became Parisian.
-
-Let no one suppose that this is an imaginary tale invented to amuse the
-reader. The facts are strictly true, and they show that the
-dog-merchants of that period were as ingenious as are the jockeys of
-to-day in disguising their wares to cheat unsuspecting country-folk.
-
-After the death of Cagnotte our affections turned to cats as more truly
-domestic animals and better friends for the fire-side. We will not
-attempt to give a detailed history of all of them. Whole dynasties of
-felines, as numerous as those of the Egyptian kings, succeeded one
-another in our house; accident, death, escape, in turn carrying them
-away. All were loved, and all were regretted; but life is made up of
-forgettings, and the remembrance of departed cats is gradually effaced
-like the remembrance of men.
-
-It is a sad fact that the lives of these humble friends, our inferior
-brothers, are not better proportioned to those of their masters.
-
-After briefly alluding to an old gray cat, who took our part against our
-own flesh and blood, and bit our mother’s ankles whenever she scolded or
-seemed about to punish us, we pass on to Childebrand, a cat belonging to
-the days of romance. From his name the reader will detect the secret
-desire which we felt to dispute Boileau, whom at that time we did not
-love, though since we have made peace with him. Does he not make Nicolas
-say:—
-
-         “Oh charming thought of poet, most ignorant and bland,
-         Among so many heroes to choose out Childebrand”?
-
-It did not seem to us that it argued such a depth of ignorance to select
-a hero of whom no one knew anything. Beside Childebrand struck us as an
-impressive name; very long-haired, very Merovingian, Gothic and Mediæval
-to the last degree, and much to be preferred to a Grecian name,—be it
-Agamemnon, Achilles, Idomeneus, Ulysses, or any other. These names,
-however, were the fashion of the day, especially among young people;
-for—to use a phrase taken from the notice of Kaulbach’s frescoes on the
-outside of the Pinacothek at Munich—“Never did the Hydra of wigginess
-dress more bristling heads than at that period;” and persons of a
-classical turn doubtless gave their cats such names as Hector, Ajax, or
-Patrocles. Our Childebrand was a magnificent cat of the house-tops, with
-shaven hair, striped fawn color and black like Saltabadil’s clown in “Le
-Roi s’Amuse.” His great green eyes of almond shape, and his velvet,
-striped coat, gave him a resemblance to a tiger, which we found
-extremely pleasing; for, as we have elsewhere said, cats are nothing
-more than tigers under a cloud. Childebrand has the honor to figure in
-some verses of ours, also intended for the discomfiture of Boileau:—
-
-       Then I for you will paint that picture of Rembrandt
-       Which pleases me most greatly; and meanwhile Childebrand,
-       According to his custom soft couched upon my knee,
-       Lifts up his pretty head and watches anxiously
-       The movement of my finger, which traces in the air
-       The outline of the picture to make it clear and fair.
-
-Childebrand came in nicely as a rhyme to Rembrandt; for this fragment
-was a sort of confession of faith and romance to a friend, since dead,
-who at that time shared all our enthusiasms for Victor Hugo,
-Sainte-Beuve, and Alfred de Musset.
-
-We must say of our cats as said Ruy Gomez de Silva to the impatient Don
-Carlos, when giving him the names and titles of his ancestors, which
-began with “Don Silvius, three times elected Consul of Rome,” “I have
-skipped some of the best——,” and so pass on to Madame Theophile, a
-reddish cat, with a white breast, pink nose, and blue eyes, who was thus
-named because she lived with us in an almost conjugal intimacy, sleeping
-on the foot of our bed, or on the arm of our writing chair; following us
-in our walks in the garden, assisting at our meals, and not infrequently
-intercepting the morsels which we were conveying from our plate to our
-mouth.
-
-One day a friend, who was leaving home for a short time, left in our
-charge a favorite parrot. The bird, feeling lonely in a strange house,
-climbed by the help of his beak to the top of the perch, and sat there
-rolling about in a scared way his eyes, which glittered like gilt nails,
-and wrinkling over them the white membranes which served for eyelids.
-Madame Theophile had never before encountered a parrot, and the novelty
-awoke in her mind an evident astonishment. Motionless as an Egyptian cat
-embalmed in its network of bandages, she sat regarding the bird with an
-air of profound meditation, and putting together all the ideas of
-natural history which she had been able to collect during her excursions
-on the roofs or in the courtyard and garden. The shadows of her thoughts
-flitted across her changeful eyes, and it was not difficult to read the
-decision at which she finally arrived: “This is—decidedly it is—a green
-chicken!”
-
-This conclusion reached, the cat jumped from the table which she had
-chosen as her observatory, and crouched in a corner of the room, her
-belly on the floor, her knees bent, her head lowered, her spine
-stiffened like that of the black panther in Gérome’s picture as it
-glares at the gazelles who are drinking by the lake.
-
-The parrot followed each movement of the cat with a feverish
-disquietude. His feathers bristled; he rattled his chain, raised one of
-his claws and exercised its talons, while he whetted his beak on the
-edge of the feeding cup. Instinct revealed to him that this was an enemy
-who was plotting mischief.
-
-[Illustration: AS FOR THE EYES OF THE CAT THEY WERE RIVETED ON THE BIRD
-WITH A FASCINATED INTENSITY.]
-
-As for the eyes of the cat, they were riveted on the bird with a
-fascinated intensity, and said plainly as eyes could speak, and in a
-language which the parrot understood only too well, “Green though he be,
-this chicken is without doubt good to eat.”
-
-While we watched this scene with interest, ready to interfere whenever
-it should seem necessary, Madame Theophile was imperceptibly drawing
-nearer to her prey. Her pink nose quivered, her eyes were half shut, her
-elastic claws projected and then disappeared again in their velvet
-sheaths. Little shivers ran down her spine: she was like an epicure as
-he seats himself at table before a dish of truffled chicken, and smacks
-his lips in advance over the choice and succulent repast which he is
-about to enjoy. This exotic dainty tickled all her sensuous
-capabilities.
-
-Suddenly her back curved like a bow which is bent, and with one strong
-elastic bound she alighted on the perch. The parrot, seeing his danger,
-remarked in a deep bass voice, as low and solemn as that of M. Joseph
-Prudhomme, “Hast thou breakfasted, Jacquot?”
-
-This remark created in the mind of the cat an evident dismay. She took a
-sudden leap backward. A blast from a trumpet, a pile of plates crashing
-to the floor, a pistol shot close to the ear, could not have inspired
-more sudden and giddy terror in an animal of her race. All her
-ornithological ideas were in one fell moment overturned.
-
-“And on what? On the roast beef of the king?” continued the parrot.
-
-The face of the cat now said, as distinctly as words, “This is not a
-bird. It is a gentleman! He speaks!”
-
-                   “When I on wine have feasted free,
-                   The tavern turns around with me,”
-
-sang the bird in a tremendous voice; for he perceived that the alarm
-caused by his words was his readiest means of defence. The cat cast a
-questioning glance toward us, and, getting no reassurance in reply, took
-refuge under the bed, from which place of safety she could not be
-enticed for the remainder of that day.
-
-People who are not accustomed to live with animals, or who, like
-Descartes, see nothing in them but irrational organisms, will no doubt
-suppose that these designs and reflections which we attribute to birds
-and beasts, are pure inventions of our fancy. In this they are mistaken:
-we but interpret their ideas, and faithfully translate them into human
-speech.
-
-Next day Madame Theophile, regaining courage, made another attempt on
-the parrot, which was repulsed in the same way. After that she gave it
-up, and accepted the bird as a man.
-
-This sensitive and charming animal adored perfumes. Patchouli, the scent
-of cashmeres, threw her into ecstasies. She had also a taste for music;
-perched upon a pile of score, she would listen attentively and with
-evident pleasure to vocalists who came to test their voices at our piano
-and receive criticism. Sharp notes, however, made her nervous, and at
-the upper “la” she was apt to close the mouth of the songstress with a
-tap of her little paw. It was an experiment which caused us much
-amusement, and was unfailing. Our feline amateur never mistook the note,
-and never let it pass unrebuked.
-
-[Illustration: THE WHITE DYNASTY.]
-
-
-
-
-                              CHAPTER II.
-                           THE WHITE DYNASTY.
-
-
-Let us now come down to a more modern epoch. From a cat imported by
-Mademoiselle Aita de la Penuela, a young Spanish artist whose studies of
-white Angoras adorned and still adorn the windows of the print-shops, we
-obtained the tiniest possible kitten, which looked like one of those
-puffs of swan’s-down which people use in rice-powder boxes. On account
-of this immaculate whiteness, he received the name of Pierrot, which, as
-he grew larger, was amplified into that of Don Pierrot de Navarre,—a
-name infinitely more majestic and having a savor of real grandeur about
-it. Don Pierrot, like all animals who are petted and spoiled grew up
-charmingly amiable. He shared our family life with that enjoyment which
-cats find in being admitted to the intimacies of the fire-side. Seated
-in his wonted place beside the fire, he seemed always to understand the
-conversation and to be interested in it. He followed the eyes of the
-talkers, emitting from time to time a little mew, as if he too had
-objections to make, and would like to add his opinion on the literary
-topics which were usually the theme of our discourse. He adored books;
-and whenever he found one lying open on the table he would seat himself
-by it, looking earnestly at the pages, and sometimes gently turning one
-with his claw. He usually finished by going to sleep, as soundly as
-though he had in reality been reading a modern novel!
-
-When we sat down to write he always jumped upon the writing-table, and
-watched with a profound attention the point of the steel pen as it
-scattered flies’ legs over the white surface of the paper, making a
-little movement of his head at the beginning of each new line. Sometimes
-he took a fancy to join in the work, and would try to get the pen away
-from us, doubtless with the intention of using it in his turn; for he
-was an æsthetic cat, like the cat Murr, described by Hoffman, and we
-strongly suspected him of spending nights in some hidden gutter writing
-his memoirs by the light of his own phosphoric eyes. Unfortunately these
-lucubrations, if they ever existed, are forever lost.
-
-Don Pierrot de Navarre would never settle himself to sleep till we had
-come home. He always waited just inside the door, and, the moment we
-stepped into the antechamber, rubbed himself against our legs, arching
-his back, and purring in a joyous and friendly manner. Then he would
-walk in, preceding us like a page, and no doubt with a very little
-urging would have consented to carry the candlestick.
-
-Having thus conducted us to our bedroom, he waited till we were
-undressed, and then, jumping into bed, embraced our neck with his little
-paws, rubbed his nose against ours, and licked us with a small pink
-tongue, rough as a file, uttering meanwhile short, inarticulate cries,
-which expressed as clearly as possible his joy at our return. Then,
-having expressed his affection by these demonstrations, and the hour for
-sleep being come, he would mount the head-board of the bed, and slumber
-there, poised like a bird on a bough. As soon as we awoke in the morning
-he would descend, and, stretching himself out close to us, wait quietly
-till it was time to get up.
-
-[Illustration: PIERROT.]
-
-Midnight, in his opinion, was the hour at which it was our duty to
-return to the house. Pierrot and the _concierge_ were entirely of one
-mind on this point. Just then we had joined with a few friends in
-getting up a little club, which we called “The Society of the Four
-Candles,” from the fact that the room in which we met was lighted by
-four candles in silver candlesticks, which were placed on four corners
-of a table. Sometimes the talk became so engrossing that, like
-Cinderella, we forgot the hour, at the risk of finding our carriages
-changed into pumpkins and our coachmen into rats. Several times Pierrot
-waited for our return until two or three o’clock in the morning; then
-his feelings were so deeply hurt that he actually went to bed without
-us. This dumb protest against our innocent irregularities was so
-touching that afterwards we made a point of coming in punctually at
-midnight; but Pierrot for a long while retained a grudge against us. He
-wanted proof that our penitence was genuine; and not till time had
-convinced him of the sincerity of our regret did he again take us into
-favor, and resume his old position inside the door of the antechamber.
-
-A cat’s friendship is a hard thing to conquer. Cats are philosophical
-animals,—sedate, quiet, fixed in their habits, true believers in decency
-and order, and not at all given to the bestowing of a thoughtless
-affection. They will be your friends if you prove worthy of friendship;
-but they will never be your slaves. Even in moments of tenderness a cat
-preserves his freedom of will, and cannot be made to comply with demands
-which seem to him unreasonable. But once he surrenders himself to you as
-a friend, what absolute confidence he gives! what fidelity of affection!
-He constitutes himself the companion of your solitary hours, of your
-melancholy, of your work. He will pass whole evenings purring on your
-knees, happy in your company, and forsaking that of animals of his own
-species. In vain do enticing mews re-echo from the roofs, calling him to
-join one of those cat-soirees where juicy red-herrings take the place of
-tea: he will not be tempted away, and shares your vigil to the end. If
-you put him on the floor, he jumps back to his place with a murmuring
-noise which is like a soft reproach. Sometimes, standing near, he looks
-at you with eyes so full of melting tenderness, so loving and so human,
-that you are half-frightened; for it seems impossible that in such a
-regard reason can be lacking.
-
-Don Pierrot de Navarre had a companion of the same race, no less white
-than himself. All the comparisons which we have heaped together in “The
-symphony in white, major” cannot express the idea of this immaculate
-snowiness, which makes even the fur of the ermine look yellow. This
-second cat was named Seraphita, in honor of Balzac’s Swedenborgian
-romance. Never did the heroine of that marvellous legend radiate a purer
-whiteness, not even when, accompanied by Minna, she climbed the icy
-peaks of the Falberg. Seraphita was of a contemplative and dreamy
-disposition. She would lie for long hours on her cushion, not asleep,
-but following, with an intense expression of the eyes, sights which were
-invisible to common mortals. She liked to be caressed; but she caressed
-in return only a favored few to whom her hard-won esteem was accorded.
-She loved luxury; and it was always upon the softest chair and the piece
-of stuff best calculated to show to advantage her swan-like fur that we
-were sure to find her. Her toilet took an enormous deal of time; every
-particle of her fur was made glossy each morning of her life. She washed
-herself with her paws; and every hair of her coat, carefully brushed
-with her rosy tongue, glistened like new silver. Whenever any one
-stroked her, she instantly removed all trace of the contact: the least
-untidiness disturbed her. Her elegance and distinction were truly
-aristocratic: in the cat-world she must have ranked as a duchess at the
-very least. She doted on perfumes, plunging her head into bouquets of
-flowers, and nibbling with little quivers of satisfaction handkerchiefs
-steeped in odors. She would walk up and down the dressing-table sniffing
-at the essence bottles, and would willingly have allowed herself to be
-dipped bodily into the scented rice-powder. Such was Seraphita, and
-never did a cat better justify a poetical name.
-
-About this time two of those counterfeit sailors who sell striped
-table-covers, handkerchiefs woven of pineapple thread, and other foreign
-commodities, chanced to pass through our street at Longchamps. They
-carried in a tiny cage two Norway rats, with the prettiest pink eyes in
-the world. White animals were a passion with us just then, and we
-carried this passion so far that even our poultry-yard was stocked with
-white cocks and hens. We bought the white rats, and had a large cage
-made for them, with interior staircases which led to different
-stories,—to dining-rooms, sleeping-chambers, and gymnasiums fitted up
-with trapezes. In this cage they were happier and better lodged than
-even the rat of La Fontaine in the middle of his Dutch cheese.
-
-These pretty creatures—of which so many people, for reasons that we
-cannot understand, have a silly fear—grew tame to an astonishing degree,
-so soon as they became certain that no harm was intended them. They
-allowed themselves to be stroked like kittens; and taking our finger
-between their tiny pink paws, delicate to an ideal degree, would lick it
-in a friendly way. They were usually let loose at the end of our meals,
-and climbing on our arms, shoulders, and head, would dart in and out of
-the sleeves of our jacket or dressing-gown with singular skill and
-agility. The motive of all these exercises, so gracefully performed, was
-to win leave to rummage among the remains of the dessert. Placed upon
-the table, in the twinkling of an eye the pair would make away with
-every walnut or hazel-nut, every dried raisin, every bit of sugar, which
-remained. Nothing could be droller than the eager and furtive glances
-which they cast about them while doing this, or their look of surprise
-when they found themselves on the edge of the table-cloth. When a tiny
-board was laid from the cage to the table, they would joyfully run
-across it and store their plunder away in their private cupboard.
-
-The couple multiplied rapidly, until whole families of equal whiteness
-ascended and descended the staircases of the cage. At last we found
-ourselves at the head of thirty rats, all so much at home with us that
-when the weather was cold they burrowed in our pockets without the least
-ceremony, and lay there, keeping themselves warm. Sometimes leaving open
-the door of the Ratopolis, we would go up to the second floor of the
-house, and give a whistle well known to our pupils. Then the tiny crew,
-who with great difficulty could climb from one step of the stairs to the
-other, would swarm upward, clutching the rail, pulling themselves along
-by the balusters, following each other in a file with the regularity of
-acrobats, up the steep road, down which occasionally one slipped, and
-run to find us, uttering little cries and manifesting the liveliest joy.
-
-We must now confess to an act of brutality. We had so often heard it
-said that a rat’s tail resembled a pink worm and detracted from the
-beauty of the animal, that at last we selected one from our menagerie,
-and cut off the much-abused appendage. The little rat bore the operation
-well, grew up bravely, and became a master rat, with a fine pair of
-moustaches; but in spite of being lightened of the weight of his caudal
-extremity, he was always less agile than his companions, was wary in
-gymnastic exercises, and frequently experienced a tumble. When the troop
-ran up the staircase, he invariably came last; and he always had the air
-of an acrobat who is testing his tight-rope and is not quite sure of his
-balance. This experiment convinced us of the usefulness of a tail to
-rats. It holds them in equilibrium as they run along cornices and narrow
-projections. When they swiftly turn to right or left the tail turns too,
-serving as a counterpoise; and this is the cause of the perpetual wiggle
-which characterizes it. Nature seldom makes a superfluous thing, and for
-this reason we should be very cautious in trying to improve her
-handiwork.
-
-You will doubtless wonder how our rats and cats, creatures so totally
-unsympathetic,—one in fact being the natural prey of the other,—managed
-to live together. In the most amicable way imaginable. The cats never
-showed their claws to the rats; the rats never exhibited the least fear
-or distrust of the cats. This conduct on the part of the cats was
-thoroughly sincere, and never once were the rats called upon to mourn
-the death of a comrade. Don Pierrot de Navarre showed the tenderest
-affection for these tiny neighbors. He would lie down by the cage for
-hours together, watching them at play. If by accident the door of the
-room was shut, he would scratch and softly mew to have it opened, that
-he might rejoin his little white friends, who not infrequently would
-come from their cage and go to sleep by his side. Seraphita, of a
-loftier nature than he, and not so fond of the musky odor of rats, never
-took part in these games; but she did the rats no harm, and suffered
-them to pass before her without once extending a claw.
-
-The end of these rats was strange enough. One sultry day in summer when
-the thermometer marked the ordinary heat of Senegal, their cage was
-placed in the garden, under the shade of a vine-covered arbor; for they
-seemed to suffer from the heat. A heavy storm came up, with great gusts
-of wind, lightning and rain. The tall poplars on the river’s bank bent
-like reeds. Armed with an umbrella, we were on the point of going out to
-look for our pets, when a vivid lightning flash, which seemed to split
-the very depths of the heavens, stopped us on the first step of the
-flight which led from the terrace to the garden. A tremendous
-thunder-clap followed, louder than the discharge of a hundred cannon.
-The shock was so violent that we were almost thrown down by it.
-
-After this explosion the storm grew a little calmer; and hastening to
-the arbor we found the thirty-two rats lying with their paws in the air,
-all killed by the same thunderbolt.
-
-The wire of their cage had without doubt attracted the lightning. Thus
-perished together, as they had lived together, thirty-two Norway
-rats,—an enviable death, and one not often granted by implacable fate!
-
-[Illustration: THE BLACK DYNASTY.]
-
-
-
-
-                              CHAPTER III.
-                           THE BLACK DYNASTY.
-
-
-Don Pierrot de Navarre, being a native of Havana, needed a very warm
-temperature. This temperature was provided for him in our rooms; but
-about the house lay extensive gardens, separated by wire fences which
-offered no difficulties to a cat, and which were planted with large
-trees, in whose branches innumerable birds twittered and sang. Not
-infrequently Pierrot, profiting by an open door, would make his escape
-of evenings for the enjoyment of a private hunt over the lawns and the
-flower-beds wet with dew. Sometimes he had to wait till daylight before
-he could re-enter the house; for, though he mewed under the windows, his
-signal did not always rouse the sleepers within. His chest had always
-been delicate, and one chilly night he took a cold, which speedily
-developed into consumption. Poor Pierrot! he became painfully thin after
-a year of coughing. His fur, once so silky, lost its gloss, and reminded
-one of the dull, opaque whiteness of a winding-sheet. His great
-transparent eyes looked enormous by contrast with his poor little face.
-His pink nose grew pale, and he dragged his feet slowly along his
-favorite sunshiny wall, watching the yellow autumn leaves whirled along
-in spiral flights by the wind, and looking as though he were repeating
-to himself the elegy of Millevoye.
-
-There is nothing in the world more touching than a sick animal. It
-submits to its sufferings with such a sweet, sad resignation. Everything
-possible was done to save Pierrot. He had a skilful doctor, who
-stethoscoped him and felt his pulse. Asses’ milk was ordered, and the
-poor thing lapped it willingly enough from his little porcelain saucer.
-He would lie for long hours on our knees, stretched out, and immovable
-as the shadow of a sphinx. We could number his vertebræ with our
-fingers, like the beads of a rosary. When he tried to respond to our
-caresses by a feeble mew, it sounded like a death-rattle. On the day of
-his death, as he lay panting upon his side, he raised himself with a
-supreme effort and crept toward us, opening wide his dilated eyes with a
-look which seemed to claim our help with an intense supplication. It
-said plainly as words could say, “Come, save me, thou who art a man!”
-Then he staggered; his eyes became fixed; and he fell with a cry so
-desperate, so lamentable, so full of anguish, that we sat transfixed
-with silent horror. He was buried at the bottom of the garden, under a
-white-rose tree which still marks the place of his grave.
-
-Two or three years later Seraphita died also, of a mysterious disease
-against which all the resources of science proved unavailing. She is
-buried not far from Pierrot.
-
-With them the _Dynastie Blanche_ became extinct, but not the family. For
-of this couple, white as snow, were born three kittens as black as ink.
-Explain, who can, this mystery. The great excitement of the day was
-Victor Hugo’s novel “Les Miserables.” No one spoke of anything else, and
-the names of its heroes and heroines were in every mouth. Naturally,
-therefore, the two male kittens were christened Enjolras and Gavroche,
-while their sister received the title of Eponine. When very young they
-acquired a number of pretty tricks. Among the rest they were taught to
-run like a dog after a ball made of rolled-up paper, and to fetch it
-back when thrown to a distance. Even though the ball were tossed up to
-the cornices of the wardrobes, hidden behind piles of sheets on a shelf,
-or dropped into a deep vase, they would always discover and fetch it
-safely in their paws. Later in life they learned to despise these
-frivolous amusements, and acquired that calm and dreamy philosophy which
-is the true characteristic of the cat nature.
-
-When people first land in one of the Southern States of America, the
-negroes they see are to them simply negroes; they cannot tell one from
-another. So to careless eyes three black cats are three black cats, and
-nothing more. Observant persons, however, do not make such mistakes. The
-physiognomies of animals differ from each other like those of men; and
-we never had the least difficulty in distinguishing between these three
-faces, all black as the mask of Harlequin, and lighted by emerald disks
-with reflections of gold.
-
-Enjolras, by far the prettiest of the three cats, could be identified by
-his large and lion-like head, his well-whiskered cheeks, strong
-shoulders, long back, and a superb tail which expanded like a plume.
-There was something theatrical and emphatic about him, and he was
-addicted to _poses_ like a favorite actor. His slow and undulating
-movements were full of majesty. He could be trusted to walk over
-consoles loaded with treasures in china and Venice glass, so
-circumspectly did he order his footsteps. He was not much of a Stoic in
-character, and his taste for dainties would have horrified his namesake
-Enjolras, that sober and pure young man, who would doubtless have said
-to him, as the angel did to Swedenborg, “Thou eatest too much.” This
-gluttonous turn, which was as droll as that of a gastronomic monkey, was
-indulged; and Enjolras attained a size and weight most unusual in a
-domestic cat. The idea occurred to us to have him shaved like a poodle,
-in order to complete his resemblance to a lion. A mane was left to him,
-and one thick tuft of hair at the end of his tail. We will not swear
-that it was not part of the original design to furnish him with
-leg-of-mutton whiskers like those in the portrait of Munito. Thus
-accoutred, he looked, it must be confessed, less like a lion of the
-jungle or of the Cape than like a Japanese chimera. Never was a more
-absurd whim carried out upon the body of a living animal. His hair was
-shaved so closely that it showed the skin, which exhibited odd bluish
-tones, and contrasted in the most extraordinary way with the blackness
-of his mane.
-
-Gavroche, as if to suit with the character of his namesake in the novel,
-was a cat of a crafty and furtive disposition. Smaller than Enjolras,
-his agility was most comical and surprising. His substitutes for the
-jokes and slang of the Paris _gamin_ were capers, somersaults, and
-ludicrous motions. We are forced to confess that, notwithstanding these
-attractive qualities, Gavroche never lost an opportunity of stealing out
-of the parlor in order to join in the street or courtyard with vagabond
-cats,—
-
-           “Of any sort of birth, and blood unknown to fame,”
-
-in parties of the most unrefined sort, quite forgetting his dignity as a
-cat from Havana: son of the illustrious Don Pierrot de Navarre, grandee
-of Spain of the first rank, and of the Marquise Seraphita, whose manners
-were so lofty and disdainful. Sometimes by way of a treat he would
-conduct to his porridge-plate some comrade emaciated by famine and all
-skin-and-bone, whom he had picked up during his peregrinations;
-introducing him with all the airs of a condescending prince. The poor
-wretch, with drooping ears, sidelong glance, and tail between his legs,
-fearing that his free lunch might at any moment be interrupted by the
-housemaid’s broom, would gobble down double, triple, quadruple
-mouthfuls, and like _Siete-Aguas_, or Seven Waters, of the Spanish
-_posada_, make the plate in a few seconds as clean as though it had been
-scrubbed by a Dutch housewife to serve as a model to Mieris or Gerard
-Dow.
-
-Beholding these chosen protégés of Gavroche’s, that phrase with which
-Gavarni illustrates one of his caricatures frequently came into our
-head: “Fine friends these are which you have selected to go about with!”
-But after all they were only a proof of Gavroche’s real goodness of
-heart; for he might easily have eaten up everything himself.
-
-The cat who bore the name of the interesting Eponine was more slender
-and delicately made than her brothers. Her nose was slightly longer; her
-eyes set obliquely in the head like those of a Chinese, were of a green
-hue like the eyes of Pallas Athene, to which Homer invariably applies
-the epithet γλαυκώπις. Her nose of a velvety blackness, as finely
-grained as a Perigord truffle; her moustaches perpetually waving, made
-up a physiognomy full of expression. Her superb black fur was always in
-a quiver, and glittered with changeful lustres. Never was there a
-creature so sympathetic, nervous, and theatrical as Eponine. If you
-passed your hand over her back once or twice in the dusk little blue
-sparks would flash from the fur. Eponine attached herself to us as
-devotedly as did the Eponine of the novel to Marius; but not being
-pre-occupied with a Cosette, as was that dear young man, we were able to
-respond to the affection of this tender and devoted cat, who is still
-the companion of our labors and the joy of our suburban hermitage. At
-the sound of the door-bell she runs out, receives the visitors, shows
-them into the drawing-room, asks them to sit down, talks with them; yes,
-_talks_, prattling on with murmurs and little cries which are not in the
-least like those which cats use to one another, but which resemble the
-speech of men. What does she say, do you ask? She says in the most
-intelligible language: “Gentlemen and ladies, do not be impatient; look
-at the pictures, or, if you please, converse with me. Monsieur will be
-here soon.” When we enter she discreetly retires to an easy chair or the
-corner of the piano, and listens to the conversation without trying to
-take part in it, like a polite animal who is familiar with the habits of
-good society.
-
-This charming Eponine has given so many proofs of merit, of
-intelligence, and superior social qualities, that by common consent she
-has been elevated to the dignity of a _person_; for there can be no
-doubt that her conduct is governed by a reason which is far superior to
-instinct. This dignity gives her the right to eat at table like a human
-being, and not as cats do out of a saucer set on the floor in a corner.
-Eponine therefore has her chair, which is regularly placed beside our
-own, at breakfast and dinner. In consideration of her shape and size,
-leave is given her to place her fore-paws on the edge of the table. She
-has also her own plate and her own tumbler, but not a fork or spoon. She
-watches the dinner through all its courses from soup to dessert, waiting
-for her turn to be helped, and altogether comporting herself with a
-wisdom and decency which we wish that children would oftener imitate. At
-the first tinkle of the bell she makes her appearance, and when we enter
-the dining-room there she is, already seated on her chair with her paws
-crossed before her on the edge of the table; and she holds up her
-forehead to be kissed precisely as a nice little girl does who has been
-trained to show an affectionate politeness towards her parents and other
-elderly friends.
-
-[Illustration: LEAVE IS GIVEN HER TO PLACE HER FOREPAWS ON THE EDGE OF
-THE TABLE.]
-
-But there are flaws in the diamond, spots even on the sun, shadows upon
-perfection, and Eponine, it must be owned, has an over-passionate love
-for fish,—a passion which is shared by cats in general. In contradiction
-to the Latin proverb
-
-           “Catus amat pisces, sed non vult tingere plantas,”
-
-she will dip her paw into water without the least hesitation in order to
-draw out a carp, a white bait, or a trout. Fish awake in her a sort of
-frenzy; and like children who are in a state of excitement over the idea
-of dessert, she sometimes looks sulkily at the soup, when preliminary
-observations made in the kitchen have assured her that there is fish to
-come, and that the cook has no need to expiate a failure by falling on
-his sword, as did the noble Vatel. At such times she is left unserved,
-and we say to her coldly, “_Mademoiselle_, a _person_ who is not hungry
-for soup cannot be hungry for fish,” and the dish is carried pitilessly
-past under her very nose. When matters reach this serious stage the
-dainty Eponine gobbles up her soup in all haste to the very last drop,
-despatches every crumb of bread or Italian paste, and then turns round
-and looks at us with a proud glance as one who has done her duty, and
-whose conscience is henceforth free from reproach. Her portion of fish
-is then given her. She eats it with the utmost satisfaction, and having
-tasted of all the other dishes, finishes her meal with a glass of water.
-
-When a dinner-party is projected Eponine, without seeing the guests,
-understands perfectly well that there is to be company that evening. She
-takes a look at her usual place, and, if she notices a knife, fork, and
-spoon beside the plate, she decamps without a word and seats herself on
-the piano-stool, which is her chosen refuge on such occasions. I should
-be glad if people who deny the possession of reason to animals, would
-explain this fact, apparently so simple and yet containing such a world
-of inferences. From seeing beside her plate those utensils which man
-only can use, this wise and observant cat argues that, for the day, she
-must yield her place to a guest, and she makes haste to do so. She never
-deceives herself about the matter, but sometimes, when the visitor is
-one with whom she is on familiar terms, she will climb his knee and try
-to coax a few tit-bits out of him by her grace and caresses.
-
-But enough of this; we must not weary our readers. Stories about cats
-are less popular than those about dogs. Still, we feel obliged to tell
-the end of Enjolras and Gavroche. In some text-books there is this
-sentence: “Sua eum perdidit ambitio.” One might say of Enjolras, “Sua
-eum perdidit pinguetudo”—he died of his own fat. He was mistaken for a
-hare and killed by some idiotic hunters. His murderers, however,
-perished within a twelvemonth, and in the most miserable manner. The
-death of a black cat, that most cabalistical of creatures, never goes
-unavenged!
-
-Gavroche, seized with a fanatical love of liberty, or perhaps with
-sudden madness, leaped out of a window one day, crossed the street,
-climbed the high fence surrounding St. James’ Church, which stands
-opposite our house, and disappeared. In spite of our anxious enquiries
-no traces of him could ever be found. A mysterious shadow hovers over
-his fate. Thus of the black dynasty only Eponine remains. She is
-faithful still to her master, and to all intents and purposes has become
-an educated cat.
-
-She has for companion a magnificent Angora, of a silver-gray coat which
-makes one think of clouded Chinese porcelain. His name is Zizi, which
-means—“Too handsome to do anything.” This beautiful creature lives in a
-sort of contemplative stupor like a _thekiari_ during his period of
-inebriation. Looking at him one is reminded of the “Ecstasies of M.
-Hochener.” Zizi’s passion is music. Not content with listening to it, he
-is himself a performer. Occasionally at night when all are sleeping
-there breaks upon the silence a strange, fantastic melody which Kreisler
-and the musicians of the future might well envy. It is Zizi, walking up
-and down the keyboard of the piano and enjoying the rapture of hearing
-the notes sing under his feet.
-
-It would be unfair not to give a passing mention to Cleopatra, the
-daughter of Eponine, who is a charming animal, but of too timid a nature
-to be introduced to the public. She is of a deep fawn color, like
-Mummia, the shaggy companion of Atta Croll, and her dark green eyes are
-just like two enormous pieces of aqua-marina. She walks habitually on
-three paws, and holds the fourth in the air, like the figure of a
-classical line which has lost his marble ball.
-
-This then is the chronicle of the Black Dynasty,—Enjolras, Gavroche,
-Eponine,—recalling to us the creations of a beloved master. Only, when
-we now glance over “Les Miserables,” it seems as though the principal
-characters in the romance are taken by black cats, but this fact does
-not in the least diminish the interest of the story for us.
-
-
-
-
-                              CHAPTER IV.
-                               OUR DOGS.
-
-
-We have sometimes been accused of disliking dogs. This at first sight
-does not seem to be a very grave charge, still, we feel bound to justify
-ourselves, since the accusation carries with it a certain amount of
-disgrace. People who prefer cats to dogs, pass in the eyes of most
-persons as necessarily false, voluptuous and cruel; while dog-lovers are
-supposed to be invariably pure, loyal, open characters, gifted, in
-short, with all the attributes which are popularly ascribed to the
-canine race. We could in no wise detract from the merits of Medor, Turc,
-Merot, and other equally amiable beasts, and we are quite ready to agree
-with the maxim formulated by Charlet: “The best thing which a man
-possesses is his dog.” We have owned many, we still own some; and if our
-calumniators will kindly call at our residence they will be greeted by
-the shrill and furious barking of a small Cuban lap-dog, and by a large
-greyhound who will take much pleasure in biting their ankles.
-
-[Illustration: OUR DOGS.]
-
-Still, we will not deny that our liking for dogs has a strong admixture
-of fear. These animals, excellent, faithful, devoted as they are, may at
-any moment run mad, and in that condition they are as dangerous and
-deadly as the viper, the asp, the bell-serpent, or the cobra di capello.
-This thought somewhat moderates our raptures over them. But, apart from
-this, dogs somehow produce a disquieting effect upon us. Their eyes are
-so deep, so intense; they place themselves before us with such an
-interrogative air that it is almost embarrassing. Goethe did not like,
-any more than ourselves, this gaze which seems to assimilate a man’s
-most secret thoughts. He would drive the poor animals away, and say to
-them “You have done your best: you shall not devour my identity.”
-
-The Pharamond of our canine dynasty was named Luther. He was a large
-white pointer with red spots, and handsome brown ears, who, having lost
-his master, and searched after him vainly for a long time, domesticated
-himself in the house of our parents, who then lived at Passy. Having no
-partridges to hunt he gave himself up to the pursuit of rats, in which
-pursuit he became as proficient as a Scotch terrier. At that time we
-were living in a room in that blind alley of Doyenné, no longer in
-existence, where Gérard de Nerval, Arsène Houssaye, and Camille Rogier
-had established themselves as the centres of a picturesque little
-Bohemian circle of artists and literary men, whose freaks and
-eccentricities have been too often described elsewhere to need further
-mention now. There, in the very midst of the Carrousel, we lived a life
-as free and as lonely as if in some desert isle of the ocean,—among
-nettles and blocks of stone, under the shadow of the Louvre, and close
-to the ruins of an old church, whose crumbling arches presented the most
-picturesque effects by moonlight. Luther, with whom we had always been
-on friendly terms, seeing us thus take our final flight from the family
-nest, assumed the task of making us a daily visit. He left Passy each
-morning at some time unknown, and, following the Quai de Billy and the
-Cours-la-Reine, arrived about eight o’clock, just as we were waking up.
-Scratching at the door, which was always opened for him, he threw
-himself upon us with a joyous yelping, put his fore-paws on our knees,
-received with great simplicity and modesty the caresses which his good
-conduct had earned, made a rapid inspection of the room, and then set
-out on his homeward journey. Arrived at Passy, he would at once run to
-our mother, wagging his tail and uttering little barks which said as
-plainly as words, “Do not be anxious, I have seen the young master, and
-he is well.” Having thus given a report of his self-imposed mission he
-would lap a bowl full of water, eat his porridge, and, stretching
-himself near the easy chair of mamma, for whom he had a particular
-affection, would refresh himself by an hour or two of sleep after the
-long journey that he had taken.
-
-Those who hold that animals do not think and are incapable of putting
-two ideas together, may explain as best they can this daily visit which
-kept up the family relations, and gave to the old birds in the nest
-regular news of their recently escaped fledgling.
-
-Poor Luther! he had a melancholy end. He gradually became silent and
-morose, and one day fled from the house, apparently because he felt
-himself attacked by hydrophobia and feared that he might be led to bite
-his master. We have every reason to suppose that he was killed as a mad
-dog. At all events we never saw him again.
-
-After rather a long interval, a new dog was installed at the house—a dog
-called Zamore. He was half mongrel, half spaniel, small in size, and
-with a black coat, excepting for a few spots of flame color beneath his
-eyebrows and some tones of fawn color on the belly. He was, in short,
-insignificant in appearance and rather ugly than pretty, but so far as
-moral qualities are concerned he was really a remarkable dog. For women
-he had an absolute contempt; he would neither follow nor obey them, and
-our mother and our sisters tried in vain to win from him the least
-evidence of friendship or respect. He would loftily accept their
-attentions and their tit-bits, but he never deigned to give them a word
-of thanks in return. No barking for them, no drumming of his tail
-against the floor, none of those endearments of which dogs are so
-prodigal. Toward these he maintained always an attitude impassive and
-impassible, crouching in the position of a sphinx, like some serious and
-dignified personage who disdains to mix in a frivolous conversation.
-
-The master he elected to serve was our father whom he recognized in the
-head of the family and a man of weight and character. Zamore’s
-tenderness, even for him, was of an austere and stoical sort, and never
-expressed by merriment, or antics, or lickings of the tongue. But his
-eyes were forever fixed on his master, his head turned to watch each
-slightest movement, and everywhere he followed him, his nose close to
-his master’s heel, never permitting himself to play the smallest prank,
-or paying the least attention to any dog whom they met. This dear and
-lamented father of ours was a great fisher before the Lord. The barbels
-caught by him must have out-numbered the antelopes caught by Nimrod. It
-could never be said of his fishing-rod that it was an instrument with a
-hook at one end and a fool at the other, for he was a man full of wit
-and intelligence, which, however, did not hinder his filling his
-fish-basket every day. Zamore always accompanied him on these
-excursions, and during those long nocturnal watchings, which are
-necessary for the capture of such fish as only bite when the line
-touches bottom, he would place himself close to the water’s edge and
-seem to explore the darksome depths with his eyes, as if searching for
-the prey. Though he now and then pricked up his ears at those numberless
-vague and distant sounds which are audible even in the deepest silence
-of the night, he never uttered a bark, for he perfectly understood that
-it is indispensable for a fisherman’s dog to be dumb. Diana might lift
-her alabaster brow above the horizon and the river give back the
-reflection; it was all in vain; not even at the moon would Zamore bark,
-though such midnight bayings are among the chief pleasures of animals of
-his species. Only when the bell on the fishing-line tinkled did he
-indulge in a yelp, for then he knew that the prey was secured, and he
-took intense interest in those after manœuvres which are requisite for
-landing a barbel of three or four pounds weight.
-
-Who could have guessed that under this calm and self-contained exterior,
-so philosophical, so far removed from all frivolity, lurked one
-imperious and extravagant passion, in utter contradiction to the
-apparent character, moral and physical, of this animal so serious and so
-thoughtful that one would have almost called him sad?
-
-What, you say, has this admirable Zamore then some hidden vice? No. Was
-he a thief, a libertine? No. Had he a taste for brandy-cherries? No. Did
-he bite? Ten thousand times, no! Zamore’s passion was for dancing. In
-him, a true Terpsichorean artist was lost to the world.
-
-This vocation was discovered in the following manner. One day there
-appeared in the public square at Passy a grayish ass, one of those
-luckless donkeys belonging to a juggler, which Decamps and Fouquet have
-so successfully painted. Two panniers, balanced across his galled back,
-held a troop of trained dogs, costumed according to sex as marquises,
-troubadours, Turks, Swiss shepherds, and queens of Golconda. The
-show-man lifted out the dogs, cracked his whip, and instantly all the
-actors exchanged the horizontal position for the perpendicular, and
-transformed themselves from quadrupeds into bipeds. A fife and a
-tambourine sounded, and the ballet began.
-
-Zamore, who was strolling gravely past, stopped short, astonished at the
-spectacle. These gayly caparisoned dogs, with laced seams and clinking
-ornaments, plumed hats and turbans on their heads, and such an odd
-resemblance to men and women, seemed to him supernatural beings. Their
-measured steps, their courtesies, their _pirouettes_ enchanted but did
-not discourage him. Like Correggio before the pictures of Raphael, he
-cried in the canine language, “Anch’io son pittore,” “I also am a
-painter,” and, seized with noble emulation as the troop defiled before
-him in a ladies’ chain, he raised himself on his hind legs which visibly
-shook, and, to the vociferous delight of the bystanders, made a movement
-to join them. But the show-man was not so much charmed as the
-bystanders. He gave Zamore a sharp cut of his whip and drove him from
-the circle, just as one might expel from the door of a theatre a
-spectator who, during the progress of the play, took it into his head to
-climb on to the stage and join in the ballet.
-
-This public humiliation, however, did not deter Zamore from following
-his vocation. He ran back to the house with his tail between his legs
-and an air of deep thought. All that day he was more silent,
-pre-occupied and morose than usual. That night our two little sisters
-were roused from their sleep by a low, mysterious noise which seemed to
-come from an unoccupied chamber next to their own, where Zamore was in
-the habit of passing the night on an old arm-chair. The sound was a sort
-of rhythmic stamping, which in the quiet of the night sounded louder
-than it really was. At first the children thought that it must be the
-mice giving a ball, but the steps and the jumps were too loud and heavy
-for mice. At last the bravest of the two crept out of bed, half opened
-the door, and peeped in. What did she see by the light of a struggling
-moonbeam but Zamore, erect on his hind legs, beating time with his
-fore-paws, and practising as in a dancing class the steps which he had
-so much admired that morning in the street. Monsieur was studying his
-lesson!
-
-[Illustration: MONSIEUR WAS STUDYING HIS LESSON.]
-
-This was not, as might be supposed, a random fancy, pursued for one
-night only. Zamore persisted in his Terpsichorean aspirations, and in
-time became an admirable dancer. Every day, as soon as the fife and the
-tambourine began to sound, he ran to the square, glided between the legs
-of the spectators, and with the deepest attention watched the trained
-dogs going through with their exercises. Mindful, however, of that cut
-of the whip, he never again tried to join in the dance, but, noting
-carefully each step, each movement, each graceful attitude, rehearsed it
-at night in the privacy of his own room,—while by day he maintained his
-usual austerity of demeanor. After a time, to imitate no longer sufficed
-him; he began to invent, to compose new steps, and we are bound to say
-that few dogs have ever surpassed him in this noble accomplishment.
-
-We ourselves, concealed behind the half-open door, have often watched
-him at his practice. He put so much energy and fire into his exercise
-that, morning after morning, the huge bowl of water set for his
-refreshment in the corner of the room the night before would be found
-drained of every drop.
-
-At length the day came when, all his difficulties conquered, he felt
-himself the equal of any four-legged dancer in creation, and now it
-seemed only proper to remove the bushel which had hitherto obscured his
-candle, and give the world the benefit of his talents.
-
-[Illustration: WHEN PAYING LITTLE ATTENTIONS TO HIS LADY-LOVES HE STOOD
-ALWAYS ON HIS HIND LEGS.]
-
-The courtyard of the house was closed on one side by a grating which
-had openings wide enough to allow of the passage of dogs of an
-ordinary size. One morning fifteen or twenty such friends of
-Zamore’s—connoisseurs, without doubt, to whom he had sent cards of
-invitation for his debut in the choregraphic art—were noticed
-assembling round a level square of earth (which the artist seemed to
-have swept clean with his tail), and the performances commenced. The
-audience was enthusiastic, and manifested its approbation with
-bow-wows which sounded extremely like the “Bravos!” of opera-goers.
-With the exception of one old water-spaniel of a muddy and degraded
-appearance, who seemed an adverse critic, and yelped out something
-about “sound traditions ignored and forgotten,” all united in
-pronouncing Zamore the Vestris of dogs and the true genius of the
-dance. A minuet, a jig, and a waltz _à deux temps_ were included in
-the programme. Quite a number of two-legged spectators joined the
-four-legged ones before the entertainment was concluded, and Zamore
-had the honor and satisfaction of being applauded by the clapping of
-human hands.
-
-After this his habits became so entirely those of the dancer that, when
-paying casual attentions to his lady-loves, he stood always on his hind
-legs, making courteous little bows and turning out his toes like a
-gallant marquis of the _ancien régime_; nothing was lacking but the
-plumed opera-hat under the arm.
-
-Except for these occasional interludes Zamore’s character was as
-splenetic as that of other comic actors, and he took no share whatever
-in the ordinary life of the house. He never stirred except when he saw
-his master take his hat and cane, and he died finally of brain fever,
-caused, as we supposed, by the over-exertion and excitement of learning
-the _Schottische_, which just then came into fashion. From his grave
-Zamore might say, like the Greek dancer in the epitaph, “Lie on me
-lightly, earth, for I have very lightly weighed on thee.”
-
-Some may ask why, with such remarkable talents, Zamore was not engaged
-as one of the troupe of M. Corvi. Even then we had sufficient influence
-as a critic to negotiate such an arrangement had it been desirable. But
-Zamore would not leave his master; he sacrificed his self-love to his
-love,—a devotion which one cannot hope very often to find among men.
-
-Our dancer was replaced by a singer named Kobold,—a King Charles spaniel
-of the purest breed, brought from the famous kennels of Lord Lauder.
-Nothing earthly was ever so like a chimera as this droll little
-creature, with his enormous, bulging forehead, his prominent eyes, his
-nose which seemed broken off at the base, and his long ears which swept
-the ground. Carried over to France, Kobold, who spoke only English,
-seemed at first to be half-stupefied. The orders given were perfectly
-unintelligible to him. Trained to obey “Go on,” “Come here,” he stood
-motionless and perplexed at the sound of “Va” and “Va-t’en.”
-
-It took him a year to learn the language of his new country well enough
-to be able to join in conversation. Kobold was very sensitive to music,
-and sang several little songs himself, though with a strong English
-accent. The key-note was given him on the piano, he caught the exact
-tone, and in a flute-like and sighing voice warbled passages which were
-really musical, and bore no relation whatever to barkings or yelpings.
-
-When we wanted him to begin again it was only necessary to say, “Sing a
-little more,” and he at once recommenced the cadence. For a creature
-brought up in the most delicate luxury, and with all the care which one
-would naturally give to a tenor and a gentleman of distinction, Kobold
-had the most singular tastes. He devoured earth like a Digger Indian;
-and this habit, of which he could not be cured, brought on a disease of
-which he died. He had a strong turn for grooms, horses, and stables in
-general, and our ponies had no comrade more devoted than he. In fact, he
-may be said to have divided his time between the box-stalls and the
-piano.
-
-From Kobold, the King Charles, we pass to Myrza, a small Cuban lap-dog,
-who at one time had the honor to belong to Giula Grisi, from whom we
-received her as a present. She is white as snow, especially when freshly
-washed, and before she has had time to roll in the dust,—a mania which
-some dogs share with a certain kind of dusty-winged birds. She is the
-gentlest of animals, very demonstrative, and guileless as a dove.
-Nothing can be droller than her shaggy head, her face composed of two
-eyes as glittering as furniture nails, and a little nose which might
-easily be mistaken for a Piedmont truffle. Long locks of hair, as curly
-as Astrakan wool, fly about this nose in picturesque confusion,
-sometimes getting into one eye, sometimes into the other,—the whole
-making up the most whimsical countenance imaginable, as odd and as
-unreal as the face of a chameleon.
-
-In Myrza’s case nature has imitated art with such perfection that any
-one would be ready to swear that she came straight from the show-case of
-a toy-shop. With her blue collar, silver bell, and her hair of the
-regulation frizz, she looks exactly like a pasteboard dog; and when she
-barks, one instinctively examines her feet to see if there is not a tiny
-squeaking-machine fastened under the paws.
-
-Myrza, who spends three quarters of the day in sleep, so that life would
-seem pretty much the same to her if she were in reality stuffed, and who
-under ordinary circumstances is anything but bright, nevertheless gave
-one day a proof of intelligence such as we have never known in any other
-dog. Bonnegrace, who painted those portraits of Tchoumakoff and of M. E.
-H.,—which were so much talked about when exhibited, had brought a
-portrait for us to look at, painted after the style of Pagnest, which is
-so full of vivid color and lifelike light and shadow. Although we have
-always lived in such intimate relations with animals, and could cite
-hundreds of instances in which cats, dogs, and birds have proved
-themselves wise, philosophical, and ingenious, we are forced to admit
-that the taste for art is totally lacking among them. We have never seen
-an animal who took the slightest notice of a picture, and the story of
-the birds who pecked at the grapes painted by Apelles has always
-appeared to us a pure invention. The one essential distinction between
-man and beast seems to be just this sense of art and feeling for
-decoration. A dog would be as likely to put on earrings, as to waste
-time over pictures.
-
-Well, Myrza, catching sight of Bonnegrace’s portrait set up against the
-wall, jumped from the stool where she was lying rolled up like a ball,
-rushed to the canvas, and began to bark furiously, trying to bite the
-intrusive stranger who had entered the room. Her surprise was extreme
-when she recognized the fact that she had a flat surface to deal with,
-on which her teeth made no impression, and which was only a deceitful
-show. She smelt the picture, tried in vain to get behind the frame,
-looked at us both with a questioning expression in her eyes, and then
-went back to the stool and resumed her nap, taking no further trouble
-about the gentleman in oil-colors. Her own countenance, meanwhile, will
-not be lost to posterity, for a beautiful portrait of her is in
-existence, painted by M. Victor Madarasz, an Hungarian artist.
-
-We will conclude our chapter on dogs with the history of Dash. One day a
-rag-and-bottle man stopped at our door in search of scraps of broken
-glass and old bottles. In his cart was a puppy some three or four months
-old, which he had been told to drown,—an order which troubled the honest
-fellow, at whom the puppy was casting tender and supplicating looks, as
-if he understood the situation of affairs. The reason of the severe
-sentence passed on the poor brute was that one of his fore-paws was
-broken.
-
-Pity stirred in our heart, and we adopted the condemned victim on the
-spot. A veterinary surgeon was sent for, who set the leg and put it in
-splints; but Dash persisted in gnawing off the bandages, so that the
-bones did not unite, and the paw remained dangling uselessly, like the
-sleeve of a man who has lost his arm. This infirmity, however, did not
-hinder Dash from being one of the gayest, liveliest, and most alert of
-dogs; and he ran on three legs quite as fast as was desirable.
-
-He was the commonest of street dogs, a veritable mongrel, on whose breed
-Buffon himself would have been embarrassed to decide. He was ugliness
-personified, but possessed an expressive face, which sparkled with
-intelligence. Everything that was said to him he understood,—his
-expression changing according as the words, spoken in the same tone of
-voice, were flattering or abusive. He rolled his eyes, turned up his
-chops, abandoned himself to unrestrained, nervous wriggles, or laughed,
-showing a row of white teeth; and, in short, produced the most comical
-effect, of which he was quite conscious. Very often he tried to speak.
-With paws placed upon our knee, he would eye us with an intense look,
-and begin a series of murmurs, sighs, and growls, so varied in
-intonation that it was easy to see that they were parts of a regular
-language. Now and then, in the midst of this conversation, Dash would
-interject a sudden and noisy yelp. Then we would look severely at him,
-and say: “That is barking, not talking. Can it be that after all you are
-only an animal?” Whereupon Dash, much humiliated by the insinuation,
-would recommence his vocalization, throwing into it a still more
-pathetic expression. No one could doubt that at these times he was
-giving an account of his misfortunes.
-
-Dash adored sugar. He always came in with the coffee after dessert, and
-went round the table begging a lump of sugar from each person with an
-urgency which seldom failed of success. In the end he grew to consider
-these benevolent gifts in the light of a regular tax, which he
-rigorously exacted. This cur, in the body of a Thersites, carried the
-soul of an Achilles. Disabled as he was, he constantly attacked, with
-the frenzy of an heroic courage, dogs ten times as big as himself, and
-was frightfully beaten. Like Don Quixote, the brave knight of La Mancha,
-he set out in triumph, and came back in most piteous plight. Alas, he
-fell a victim to this mistaken courage. He was brought home, a few
-months since, torn to pieces by an amiable brute of a Newfoundland, who
-the very next day broke the backbone of a greyhound.
-
-The death of Dash was followed by all sorts of catastrophes. The
-mistress of the house in which he had received his deathblow was burned
-to death in her bed a few days after; and her husband, in trying to save
-her, met with the same fate. It was not an expiation, it was only a
-fatal coincidence,—for they were the best people in the world, loving
-animals like Brahmins, and not in the least to blame for the sad fate of
-our poor Dash.
-
-We have now another dog, who is called Nero, but he is too recent an
-acquisition to have a history.
-
-In the next chapter we propose to give a chronicle of the different
-chameleons, lizards, magpies, and other small creatures who have made
-part of our household of pets.
-
-
-N. B. Alas, Nero is dead! He was poisoned a day or two since as
-thoroughly as if he had supped with the Borgias, and the first chapter
-of his life begins and ends with an epitaph.
-
-
-
-
-                               CHAPTER V.
-                   CHAMELEONS, LIZARDS, AND MAGPIES.
-
-
-Once upon a time we happened to be at the port of Santa-Maria in the Bay
-of Cadiz, a little village which seems cut out of the white loaf of
-Spain, between the indigo of the sea and the lapis-lazuli of the sky. It
-was noon, and on that particular day such a warm noon that the sun
-appeared to be amusing himself by dropping spoonfuls of melted lead on
-the heads of travellers, as the garrison of a beleaguered fortress, by
-some well-planned artifice, pours boiling oil or pitch on the heads of
-its assailants. This picturesque little port is made famous by the
-celebrated song in the Andalusian _patois_ of Murillo-Bravo, “The Bulls
-of Puerto,” in which the gallant boatman says to the lady about to
-embark, “Lleve V. la patita.” We hummed the refrain in a voice which
-sings no less falsely in Spanish than in French, following with our
-eyes, as we sang, the line, straight as the selvage of a piece of linen,
-which was cast by the shadow at the foot of the wall.
-
-[Illustration: THE CHAMELEON.]
-
-It was a market day, and foreign commodities of all sorts were exposed
-for sale on the square, which were of colors gorgeous enough to enchant
-Ziem himself. Garlands of fiery-red peppers swung above deep-green
-melons, some of which had been cut in halves to show the rose-colored
-pulp within, dotted with black spots like a shell from the South Seas.
-Heavy clusters of clear, yellow grapes, like amber beads, reminding one
-by their fair transparency of Turkish rosaries, hung by the side of
-bunches of a bluish color, and others which were of an amethystine hue
-shading into deeper purple. Chickpeas in weedy mats rounded their globes
-of paly gold; pomegranates, bursting their rinds, showed caskets of
-rubies within. The fruit-sellers, with their scarlet and yellow capes,
-their black silk petticoats, bare feet thrust into satin slippers,—and
-what feet, hardly bigger than a Savoy biscuit!—their paper fans held
-against the cheek to take the place of a parasol, sat proudly beside
-their vegetables chattering with that Andalusian volubility which is so
-full of grace. Here and there some passing gallant, balancing himself on
-the point of his white cane, his jacket swinging from his shoulders, a
-broad sash from Gibraltar encircling his waist from armpit to hips, his
-elastic breeches open at the knee, and leathern boots from Ronda
-unbuttoned all the way up the leg, in what seems to be the height of the
-style, lingered a moment to cast a seductive glance while rolling
-between thumb and forefinger his cigarette of alcoy paper. It was one of
-those blinding effects of southern light and color which would be called
-an exaggeration of nature if any artist should attempt to reproduce in
-full its crude and dazzling truth.
-
-We sought a refuge from the fiery sun shower in the patio of The Three
-Moorish Kings. A _patio_, as all the world knows, is an inside court
-surrounded by arcades, whose arrangement reminds one of the ancient
-_impluvium_. In place of a roof it is shaded by a linen awning striped
-with gay colors, called in Spanish a _velarium_, which is kept
-constantly wet, in order to secure greater coolness. In the middle of
-this patio a slender thread of water rose and fell from a marble basin,
-throwing a fine spray over boxes of myrtles, pomegranates and oleanders,
-which were grouped about it. Sofas covered with horse-hair, and
-cane-seated chairs, were scattered about under the arcades. Guitars,
-suspended on the walls, cast brilliant reflections out of the shadow, as
-the light glinted on their varnished surfaces, and beside them hung the
-brown disks of tambourines.
-
-These patios are common in the Moorish houses of Algeria, and no better
-contrivance to secure coolness can be imagined. They are a device of the
-Arabs adopted by the Spaniards. Upon the capitals of the smaller
-columns, in many dwellings, can still be read verses from the Koran
-glorifying Allah, or laudations of some caliph long ago driven back into
-the heart of Africa and forgotten.
-
-After draining an unglazed jug of cold water we retired to one of the
-rooms opening on the patio for a siesta. Our drowsy eyes wandered to the
-ceiling of the low chamber, which, like all Spanish ceilings, was
-whitewashed, and ornamented in the middle by a rosette picked out into
-yellow, black, and red sections like the sides of a ball. From this
-rosette hung a cord meant, without doubt, to hold a lamp; and along this
-cord a mysterious object was moving upward. We fitted our eyeglass into
-its place under the arch of our eyebrow, and at last made out that the
-thing, which with so much pains was climbing on the cord toward the
-ceiling, was a kind of lizard, of a grayish yellow, and a shape which
-had about it something monstrous, recalling in miniature those vast
-Saurians which disappeared from earth at the close of the antediluvian
-epoch.
-
-The maid of the inn was summoned,—Pepa, Lola, or Casilda, we cannot
-recall the exact name, but are ready to swear that she was an excellent
-person,—and she explained that the creature on the cord was a chameleon.
-
-Lola,—if Lola it was,—taking pity on our ignorance, and perhaps not
-sorry to exhibit her own zoölogical knowledge, said to us in an
-instructive way, “These animals change their color, you know, according
-to the place where they happen to be, and they live on air.”
-
-During our brief conversation the chameleons (for there were two)
-continued their ascension of the cord. Nothing more absurd than their
-appearance could be imagined. It must be admitted that the chameleon is
-not beautiful, and, although people say that Nature does everything
-well, it strikes us that by taking a very little more trouble she might
-easily have made a prettier animal than he. But, like all great artists,
-Nature has her caprices, and she occasionally amuses herself by
-modelling grotesque shapes. The eyes of the chameleon, which are almost
-completely detached from the head, are fitted into external membranous
-sacs, and have complete independence of movement. They can look to the
-right with one and to the left with the other, cast one up to the skies
-and the other down to the floor, producing thereby a variety of squints
-which have the most extraordinary effect. A swollen pouch under the jaw,
-not unlike a goitre, gives the poor animal an air of haughty complacency
-and stupid conceit, of which he is as unconscious as he is innocent. His
-awkwardly formed paws make a projecting angle above the line of his
-back, and his movements are alike ungraceful and meaningless.
-
-One of the chameleons had now reached the top of the string and the
-centre of the rosette. Putting out a pitiful little paw, he tried the
-ceiling to see if it were possible to cling to it, and in that way to
-effect an escape. In making this experiment, for the hundredth time
-perhaps, he squinted with his eyes in the most desperate and touching
-way, as if invoking aid from heaven and earth; then, seeing no hope of
-egress on that side, he slowly began to descend the cord again, with a
-sad, resigned, and piteous look,—emblem of useless labor, a Sisyphus of
-wasted energies. Half-way down the two creatures met, exchanged glances
-meant to be friendly, perhaps, but horrible from their squints, and for
-a moment or two formed a group which was like a hideous bunch on the
-perpendicular line of the string.
-
-After a few ludicrous contortions the group disentangled, each chameleon
-continuing its journey, the one which was coming down reaching the end
-of the cord, stretching out a hind leg, sounding the air cautiously and
-finding no place of support, drawing it in again with a discouraged
-movement whose heart-breaking and absurd melancholy baffles all
-description. By one of those associations of ideas which cannot be
-accounted for, but which the mind conceives without understanding why,
-the chameleons reminded me of one of Goya’s gloomiest etchings, in which
-are represented spectres, who, with feeble and shadowy arms, are trying
-to lift heavy stones which roll back upon and crush them,—an unequal
-conflict of weakness with destiny.
-
-In order to deliver these poor animals from their sufferings we bought
-for them a rough sort of cage. It was of good size, and, once installed
-therein, they were able to dispense with those acrobatic exercises which
-seemed to make them so miserable. As to the question of food, with all
-respect for Southern frugality, this living on air by its very name
-seems insufficient. A Spanish lover may, perhaps, be able to breakfast
-on a glass of water, dine on a cigarette, and sup on a tune from his
-mandolin; but the tastes of chameleons are less refined, and they crave
-and devour flies, which they catch, in the oddest manner, by darting out
-from the throat a sort of long lance covered with a viscous slime, which
-adheres to the wings of the insect, and, when drawn in again, carries
-him bodily along with it into the gullet.
-
-Do chameleons change their color according to the place where they
-happen to be? In the literal sense of the words they do not, but their
-skins, broken by little facet-shaped roughnesses, absorb the hues of
-surrounding objects more easily than other bodies do. Placed near a red
-thing, or a yellow or a green one, the chameleon seems to steep itself
-in that color, but, after all, it is but an effect of refraction. A
-plate of polished metal will be colored in the same way; there is no
-real power of absorption. In its ordinary state the chameleon is of a
-gray-green or a yellowish gray. However, those who have a taste for
-marvels may, if they like, assert that the chameleon changes its color
-at will, and is thus the proper emblem of political versatility; but we
-must be permitted to say in our turn that after the minutest
-observations, continued for a long time, we are convinced that
-chameleons are entirely indifferent to affairs of state and everything
-connected with them.
-
-We were anxious to carry our chameleons home with us, but the autumn was
-near at hand, and, though the sun still had a great deal of heat as we
-followed the coast northward from Tarifa to Port Vendres, passing by
-Gibraltar, Malaga, Alicante, Almeria, Valencia, and Barcelona, the poor
-beasts faded away before our very sight. As they wasted, their eyes
-seemed to project from their heads, and day by day to increase in
-prominence. Their squint increased; under their loose and flabby skins
-their tiny skeletons grew more and more distinct with every mile. It was
-a piteous sight,—these consumptive lizards feebly going through the
-death dance, and too weak even to thrust their sticky tongues out for
-the flies which we collected for them in the galley of the steamer. They
-died within a few days of each other, and the blue Mediterranean was
-their grave.
-
-From chameleons to lizards the transition is easy. Our youngest daughter
-once received the present of a lizard which had been caught at
-Fontainebleau, and which became very fond of her. Jacques’ color was the
-most beautiful Veronese green that can be imagined. His eyes were very
-bright, his scales overlapped each other with the most perfect
-regularity, and his movements were extraordinarily swift. He never left
-his little mistress, and usually lay hidden in a loop of her hair near
-the comb. Nestled there, he accompanied her to the play, to walk, to
-evening parties, without once betraying his presence; only, when the
-young girl was playing on the piano, he would desert his retreat,
-descend her shoulder and creep out to the end of the arm, always
-preferring the right hand, which plays the air, to the left, which makes
-the accompaniment,—thus testifying to his preference for melody over
-harmony.
-
-Jacques’ house was a glass box lined with moss, which had once contained
-Russian cigars from the Eliseïeph manufactory. His private life may
-therefore be justly said to have lain open to the public. His food
-consisted of drops of milk, which he preferred to take from the end of
-his mistress’s finger. He died of grief and hunger during her absence on
-a journey, to which she had not dared to expose him on account of the
-severity of the weather.
-
-There is nothing to be told of Balylas, the sparrow, but that he died.
-One blow under his wing, from a claw, finished his career, and he was
-buried in a domino-box.
-
-It now only remains for us to describe Margot, the magpie,—a most
-intelligent and chatty gossip, worthy to live in an osier cage in the
-window of a concierge and be fed with white cheese. We wasted much time
-in trying to teach her the dead languages. She never could be taught to
-pronounce correctly the Latin for “Bonjour,” as did the Pompeiian
-magpies. She could not say “Ave,” but she said a great many other
-things. She was a most comical and entertaining bird, who would play at
-hide-and-go-seek with the children, dance the Pyrrhic dance, and
-fearlessly attack any number of cats, absolutely running after them and
-nipping the ends of their tails; which malicious act she always
-supplemented with a loud burst of laughter. She was as thievish as the
-“Gazza Ladra” herself, and equal to getting ten servants hung on false
-accusations. In the twinkling of an eye she would rifle every knife,
-fork, and spoon from the table. Money, scissors, thimbles, anything that
-glittered, she would seize upon and swiftly fly away with to her hiding
-place. As the corner where she deposited her stolen goods was well known
-to us all, we allowed her to do this; but the servants of a neighboring
-family were less indulgent, and they killed her one day because, as they
-stated, she had stolen a pair of new sheets,—an accusation which made us
-think of that minute cat in “How to succeed,” which devoured four pounds
-of butter and only weighed three quarters of a pound after it! The
-master and mistress of the house scouted the idea, and turned the fools
-of servants off at once; but this reprisal did not mend the matter, Dame
-Margot’s neck was none the less wrung. She was lamented by all the
-neighborhood, which had been kept in a state of constant diversion by
-her good humor and her pranks.
-
-
-
-
-                              CHAPTER VI.
-                                HORSES.
-
-
-Do not be in a hurry to accuse us of coxcombry on seeing the heading of
-this chapter. Horses!—a glorious word indeed for the pen of a literary
-man. _Musa pedestris_ (the muse goes on foot), says Horace, and all
-Parnassus together had but a single horse in its stable,—the well known
-Pegasus; and he, if we may believe Schiller’s ballad, was a beast with
-wings, and not at all easy to harness. We are no sportsman, alas, and we
-deeply regret the fact, for we are as fond of horses as though we had an
-income of five hundred thousand francs a year, and entirely agree with
-the Arabs in their contempt for people who are forced to walk. A horse
-is the natural pedestal for a man, and the perfect existence is that of
-the Centaur,—that ingenious mythological invention.
-
-However, notwithstanding that we are a simple man of letters, we once
-had horses. About the year 1843 or 1844, when engaged in sifting the
-sands of journalism through the sieve of the daily newspapers, enough
-golden particles appeared, to allow of the hope that, in addition to
-dogs, cats, and magpies, we might be able to find food for a couple of
-pets of larger size. At first it was a pair of Shetland ponies, about
-the size of a large dog, and shaggy as bears, who looked at us through
-their long, black manes with such friendly faces that we felt much more
-inclined to take them with us into the parlor than to send them to their
-stable. They helped themselves to sugar out of our pockets, just like
-trained horses. For use, however, they were entirely too small. They
-would have answered very well to carry an English child eight years old,
-or as coach horses to Tom Thumb; but, even at that date, we were blessed
-with the same athletic frame as now, and crowned with the same plenteous
-flesh which still characterizes us, and which we have been enabled to
-support, without giving way under its weight, for forty consecutive
-years. The difference in size between master and beasts was quite too
-apparent to the eye, though it must be said for the ponies that they
-made no difficulty at all about drawing their light phaeton, to which
-they were fastened by a tiny harness of pale fawn-colored leather, which
-looked as though it might have been purchased at a toy-shop.
-
-At that time illustrated comic journals were not so plentiful as to-day,
-but there were plenty in existence to caricature us and our equipage. Of
-course, with the exaggeration permissible in such cases, we were
-invested with elephantine proportions, like those of Ganesa, the Indian
-god of wisdom, while the ponies dwindled to the size of puppies,—or,
-even less, to that of rats and mice. It is true that, without great
-difficulty, we might have carried the little creatures, one under each
-arm, and the phaeton to boot upon our back. For a moment we debated the
-possibility of harnessing four, but this Liliputian four-in-hand would
-have been still more conspicuous. With great regret therefore (for we
-had already grown fond of the gentle creatures) we exchanged them for a
-pair of dappled-gray ponies of a larger size, with strong necks, wide
-chests, and massive shoulders, which, though far enough from being
-Mecklenburgers, at least looked capable of drawing grown people about.
-They were mares,—one named Jane and the other Betsey.
-
-In appearance they were as much alike as two drops of water. Never was a
-better match so far as looks went; but in proportion as Jane was
-mettlesome, Betsey was indolent. While the former pulled at the collar,
-the other trotted by her side contentedly, shirking work, and giving
-herself no sort of trouble. These two animals, of the same breed, the
-same age, fated to live in stalls side by side, felt for each other the
-strongest antipathy. They could not endure each other, fought in the
-stable, and snapped and bit when prancing in the traces. Nothing could
-reconcile them. It was a pity too, for with their brush-like manes cut
-like those of the horses of the Parthenon, their snorting nostrils and
-eyes dilated with fury, they presented rather a triumphant appearance
-when going up and down the Champs Elysées.
-
-We were obliged to look for a substitute for Betsey, and found one in a
-small mare with skin of a somewhat lighter color,—for the shade we
-wanted could not be exactly matched. Jane approved at once of this
-new-comer, with whom she seemed charmed, and did the honors of the
-stable in the most graceful way. The tenderest friendship was soon
-established between them; Jane would rest her head on the shoulder of
-Blanche,—thus named because her shade of gray bordered on white,—and
-when let loose in the courtyard for an airing, they would play together
-like dogs or children. If one was driven out in single harness, the
-other, left behind, seemed sad, gave signs of feeling lonely, and, when
-far away she heard the hoofs of her comrade sounding on the pavement,
-she raised a joyful neighing like the blast of a trumpet, to which her
-approaching friend never failed to respond.
-
-They came to be harnessed with remarkable docility, and would go of
-their own accord to their proper places on either side of the pole. Like
-all animals who are loved and kindly treated, Jane and Blanche soon
-acquired the most perfect confidence and familiarity. They would follow
-us about on their hind legs like dogs, and when we stood still, put
-their heads on our shoulders to be petted. Jane loved bread, Blanche
-sugar. Both of them adored watermelon rind, and there was nothing that
-they would not do to obtain these dainties.
-
-If only men were not so odiously ferocious and brutal as they too often
-are, how happily and good-naturedly animals would play about them! This
-being, who can think, can speak, can do so many things which they cannot
-understand, fills their dimly understood thoughts, and is for them a
-perpetual astonishment and mystery. How frequently animals look at us
-with eyes which are full of questionings—questionings to which we cannot
-reply, as we have not the key to their language! They have a language,
-nevertheless, by which, through sounds and intonations which we scarcely
-notice, they exchange ideas,—confused, perhaps, but still ideas, such as
-creatures of their sphere of sentiment and action can understand. Less
-stupid in this one instance than ourselves, they succeed in learning a
-few words of our idiom, but not enough to enable them to talk with us.
-These words are mostly answers to our demands upon them, so our
-intercourse is naturally brief. But that animals talk with each other no
-one can doubt who has ever lived familiarly with dogs, cats, horses, or
-any other sort of beasts.
-
-As an example of this, Jane, who by nature was perfectly fearless,
-shying at no obstacle whatever, and afraid of nothing, changed her
-character after living for a few months in the same stable with Blanche,
-and began to exhibit sudden and unaccountable fears. Her more timid
-companion had, without doubt, told her ghost stories at night. At times,
-when dashing along in the dusk through the Bois de Boulogne, Blanche
-would stop short and shy sharply to one side as if to avoid some
-phantom, which, invisible to us, had appeared to her. Trembling all
-over, with loud breathings, and body covered with sweat, she would rear
-straight on end if we tried to make her go on by touching her with the
-whip. Jane could not force her to follow, however hard she might try. In
-these cases there was nothing to be done but to get out, cover Blanche’s
-eyes and lead her along for a few paces till the vision took flight.
-Jane ended with allowing herself to be conquered by these terrors, which
-Blanche, when safely back in her stable, doubtless explained to her in
-full. We must frankly own that when, in the middle of a dusky lane
-checkered by moonlight into fantastic lights and shadows, Blanche,
-usually so docile,—Blanche, who, to excite her into a gallop, needed
-nothing heavier than that whip of Queen Mab’s which was made of
-cricket’s bone with gossamer lash,—planted herself suddenly on her four
-feet as though some spectre had seized her bridle, and with
-unconquerable obstinacy refused to move a step forward, we could not
-prevent a cold chill from running down our spine. Searching the shadow
-with unquiet glances, we almost imagined that we could detect therein
-the ghastly countenance of one of Goya’s “Caprices,” where in reality
-were only innocent silhouettes of leafy birch-trees or beeches.
-
-It was one of our great pleasures to drive these charming animals
-ourselves, and an intimate understanding was soon established between
-us. If we held the reins in our hands, it was mainly for the look of the
-thing. The least click of the tongue sufficed to guide them to right or
-to left, to make them go slower or bring them to a stop. In a very short
-time they learned all our habits. They went of their own accord to the
-newspaper office, to the printers, to the editors, to the Bois de
-Boulogne, to the houses where we dined on particular days of the week,
-all with such exactitude that at last it became absolutely compromising.
-By consulting Jane or Blanche any one could have procured the address of
-our most mysterious visiting-places. If, while pursuing some interesting
-or tender conversation, we forgot the flight of time, they would recall
-it to our minds by neighing, and stamping with their hoofs under the
-balcony.
-
-Notwithstanding the pleasantness of going about the city in a phaeton
-with our little friends to pull it, we could not help sometimes finding
-the wind sharp and the rain cold, when those months came in so fitly
-christened in the Republican calendar as “Brumaire, Frimaire, Pluviôse,
-Ventôse, and Nivôse.” We therefore purchased a blue coupé lined with
-white reps, so small that people compared it to one belonging to the
-most famous dwarf of the day, an insult about which we were troubled
-very little. A brown coupé lined with garnet succeeded the blue, and was
-replaced at a later date with one of the color of a crow’s eye
-upholstered with deep blue; for we luxuriated in carriages, in spite of
-being nothing but a poor scribbler, with no income stated in the big
-book, and no legacies left us for years back; and our ponies, though
-nourished on literature, so to speak, with nouns for hay, adjectives in
-place of oats, and adverbs instead of straw, were none the less fat and
-glossy because of that. Alas, just then came, no one knew exactly why,
-the Revolution of February. Paving-stones were being dug up on all sides
-to serve patriotic ends, and the streets were no longer accessible for
-wheeled vehicles. We might easily have scaled the barricades with our
-agile ponies and their light equipage, but unluckily we had no credit
-left anywhere but at the cook-shop. Horses cannot be fed on roast
-chicken. The horizon was lowering with heavy black clouds, across which
-red lightnings flashed. Money took alarm, and made haste to conceal
-itself. The newspaper for which we wrote suspended publication, and we
-thought ourselves fortunate when a purchaser turned up and took horses,
-harnesses, and carriages off our hands at a quarter of their value. It
-was a bitter grief to us to have them go, and we will not swear that a
-salt tear or two may not have dropped on the manes of Jane and Blanche
-as they were led away.
-
-They are driven past their old home occasionally by their new owner; and
-always the light feet make an instant’s pause under the windows, to
-testify that they have not forgotten the dwelling where they were once
-so cared for and so tenderly loved. Then we breathe a bitter and
-sympathetic sigh, and say in the depths of our heart, “Poor Jane! Poor
-Blanche! Are they happy?”
-
-In the overwhelming of our tiny fortunes theirs is the only loss which
-caused us a real regret.
-
-
-            University Press: John Wilson & Son, Cambridge.
-
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
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-                          TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
-
-
- 1. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling.
- 2. Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed.
- 3. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.
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