note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original lovely illustrations. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h.zip) the tale of samuel whiskers or, the roly-poly pudding by beatrix potter author of "the tale of peter rabbit" etc. [illustration] in remembrance of "sammy," the intelligent pink-eyed representative of a persecuted (but irrepressible) race an affectionate little friend, and most accomplished thief [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] frederick warne first published (originally published in u.s.a. as _the roly-poly pudding_) [illustration] [illustration] once upon a time there was an old cat, called mrs. tabitha twitchit, who was an anxious parent. she used to lose her kittens continually, and whenever they were lost they were always in mischief! on baking day she determined to shut them up in a cupboard. she caught moppet and mittens, but she could not find tom. mrs. tabitha went up and down all over the house, mewing for tom kitten. she looked in the pantry under the staircase, and she searched the best spare bedroom that was all covered up with dust sheets. she went right upstairs and looked into the attics, but she could not find him anywhere. it was an old, old house, full of cupboards and passages. some of the walls were four feet thick, and there used to be queer noises inside them, as if there might be a little secret staircase. certainly there were odd little jagged doorways in the wainscot, and things disappeared at night--especially cheese and bacon. mrs. tabitha became more and more distracted, and mewed dreadfully. [illustration] [illustration] while their mother was searching the house, moppet and mittens had got into mischief. the cupboard door was not locked, so they pushed it open and came out. [illustration] they went straight to the dough which was set to rise in a pan before the fire. they patted it with their little soft paws--"shall we make dear little muffins?" said mittens to moppet. [illustration] but just at that moment somebody knocked at the front door, and moppet jumped into the flour barrel in a fright. [illustration] mittens ran away to the dairy, and hid in an empty jar on the stone shelf where the milk pans stand. the visitor was a neighbour, mrs. ribby; she had called to borrow some yeast. mrs. tabitha came downstairs mewing dreadfully--"come in, cousin ribby, come in, and sit ye down! i'm in sad trouble, cousin ribby," said tabitha, shedding tears. "i've lost my dear son thomas; i'm afraid the rats have got him." she wiped her eyes with her apron. "he's a bad kitten, cousin tabitha; he made a cat's cradle of my best bonnet last time i came to tea. where have you looked for him?" "all over the house! the rats are too many for me. what a thing it is to have an unruly family!" said mrs. tabitha twitchit. [illustration] [illustration] "i'm not afraid of rats; i will help you to find him; and whip him too! what is all that soot in the fender?" [illustration] "the chimney wants sweeping--oh, dear me, cousin ribby--now moppet and mittens are gone!" "they have both got out of the cupboard!" [illustration] ribby and tabitha set to work to search the house thoroughly again. they poked under the beds with ribby's umbrella, and they rummaged in cupboards. they even fetched a candle, and looked inside a clothes chest in one of the attics. they could not find anything, but once they heard a door bang and somebody scuttered downstairs. "yes, it is infested with rats," said tabitha tearfully. "i caught seven young ones out of one hole in the back kitchen, and we had them for dinner last saturday. and once i saw the old father rat--an enormous old rat, cousin ribby. i was just going to jump upon him, when he showed his yellow teeth at me and whisked down the hole." "the rats get upon my nerves, cousin ribby," said tabitha. [illustration] ribby and tabitha searched and searched. they both heard a curious roly-poly noise under the attic floor. but there was nothing to be seen. [illustration] they returned to the kitchen. "here's one of your kittens at least," said ribby, dragging moppet out of the flour barrel. they shook the flour off her and set her down on the kitchen floor. she seemed to be in a terrible fright. "oh! mother, mother," said moppet, "there's been an old woman rat in the kitchen, and she's stolen some of the dough!" the two cats ran to look at the dough pan. sure enough there were marks of little scratching fingers, and a lump of dough was gone! "which way did she go, moppet?" but moppet had been too much frightened to peep out of the barrel again. ribby and tabitha took her with them to keep her safely in sight, while they went on with their search. [illustration] [illustration] they went into the dairy. the first thing they found was mittens, hiding in an empty jar. [illustration] they tipped up the jar, and she scrambled out. "oh, mother, mother!" said mittens-- [illustration] "oh! mother, mother, there has been an old man rat in the dairy--a dreadful 'normous big rat, mother; and he's stolen a pat of butter and the rolling-pin." ribby and tabitha looked at one another. "a rolling-pin and butter! oh, my poor son thomas!" exclaimed tabitha, wringing her paws. "a rolling-pin?" said ribby. "did we not hear a roly-poly noise in the attic when we were looking into that chest?" ribby and tabitha rushed upstairs again. sure enough the roly-poly noise was still going on quite distinctly under the attic floor. [illustration] "this is serious, cousin tabitha," said ribby. "we must send for john joiner at once, with a saw." * * * * * [illustration] now this is what had been happening to tom kitten, and it shows how very unwise it is to go up a chimney in a very old house, where a person does not know his way, and where there are enormous rats. tom kitten did not want to be shut up in a cupboard. when he saw that his mother was going to bake, he determined to hide. he looked about for a nice convenient place, and he fixed upon the chimney. the fire had only just been lighted, and it was not hot; but there was a white choky smoke from the green sticks. tom kitten got upon the fender and looked up. it was a big old-fashioned fire-place. the chimney itself was wide enough inside for a man to stand up and walk about. so there was plenty of room for a little tom cat. [illustration] [illustration] he jumped right up into the fire-place, balancing himself upon the iron bar where the kettle hangs. [illustration] tom kitten took another big jump off the bar, and landed on a ledge high up inside the chimney, knocking down some soot into the fender. [illustration] tom kitten coughed and choked with the smoke; and he could hear the sticks beginning to crackle and burn in the fire-place down below. he made up his mind to climb right to the top, and get out on the slates, and try to catch sparrows. "i cannot go back. if i slipped i might fall in the fire and singe my beautiful tail and my little blue jacket." the chimney was a very big old-fashioned one. it was built in the days when people burnt logs of wood upon the hearth. the chimney stack stood up above the roof like a little stone tower, and the daylight shone down from the top, under the slanting slates that kept out the rain. [illustration] tom kitten was getting very frightened! he climbed up, and up, and up. [illustration] then he waded sideways through inches of soot. he was like a little sweep himself. it was most confusing in the dark. one flue seemed to lead into another. there was less smoke, but tom kitten felt quite lost. he scrambled up and up; but before he reached the chimney top he came to a place where somebody had loosened a stone in the wall. there were some mutton bones lying about-- "this seems funny," said tom kitten. "who has been gnawing bones up here in the chimney? i wish i had never come! and what a funny smell? it is something like mouse; only dreadfully strong. it makes me sneeze," said tom kitten. [illustration] [illustration] he squeezed through the hole in the wall, and dragged himself along a most uncomfortably tight passage where there was scarcely any light. [illustration] he groped his way carefully for several yards; he was at the back of the skirting-board in the attic, where there is a little mark * in the picture. [illustration] all at once he fell head over heels in the dark, down a hole, and landed on a heap of very dirty rags. when tom kitten picked himself up and looked about him--he found himself in a place that he had never seen before, although he had lived all his life in the house. it was a very small stuffy fusty room, with boards, and rafters, and cobwebs, and lath and plaster. opposite to him--as far away as he could sit--was an enormous rat. "what do you mean by tumbling into my bed all covered with smuts?" said the rat, chattering his teeth. [illustration] "please sir, the chimney wants sweeping," said poor tom kitten. [illustration] "anna maria! anna maria!" squeaked the rat. there was a pattering noise and an old woman rat poked her head round a rafter. all in a minute she rushed upon tom kitten, and before he knew what was happening-- his coat was pulled off, and he was rolled up in a bundle, and tied with string in very hard knots. anna maria did the tying. the old rat watched her and took snuff. when she had finished, they both sat staring at him with their mouths open. "anna maria," said the old man rat (whose name was samuel whiskers),--"anna maria, make me a kitten dumpling roly-poly pudding for my dinner." "it requires dough and a pat of butter, and a rolling-pin," said anna maria, considering tom kitten with her head on one side. [illustration] [illustration] "no," said samuel whiskers, "make it properly, anna maria, with breadcrumbs." [illustration] "nonsense! butter and dough," replied anna maria. [illustration] the two rats consulted together for a few minutes and then went away. samuel whiskers got through a hole in the wainscot, and went boldly down the front staircase to the dairy to get the butter. he did not meet anybody. he made a second journey for the rolling-pin. he pushed it in front of him with his paws, like a brewer's man trundling a barrel. he could hear ribby and tabitha talking, but they were busy lighting the candle to look into the chest. they did not see him. [illustration] anna maria went down by way of the skirting-board and a window shutter to the kitchen to steal the dough. [illustration] she borrowed a small saucer, and scooped up the dough with her paws. she did not observe moppet. while tom kitten was left alone under the floor of the attic, he wriggled about and tried to mew for help. but his mouth was full of soot and cobwebs, and he was tied up in such very tight knots, he could not make anybody hear him. except a spider, which came out of a crack in the ceiling and examined the knots critically, from a safe distance. it was a judge of knots because it had a habit of tying up unfortunate blue-bottles. it did not offer to assist him. tom kitten wriggled and squirmed until he was quite exhausted. [illustration] [illustration] presently the rats came back and set to work to make him into a dumpling. first they smeared him with butter, and then they rolled him in the dough. "will not the string be very indigestible, anna maria?" inquired samuel whiskers. [illustration] anna maria said she thought that it was of no consequence; but she wished that tom kitten would hold his head still, as it disarranged the pastry. she laid hold of his ears. [illustration] tom kitten bit and spat, and mewed and wriggled; and the rolling-pin went roly-poly, roly; roly, poly, roly. the rats each held an end. "his tail is sticking out! you did not fetch enough dough, anna maria." "i fetched as much as i could carry," replied anna maria. "i do not think"--said samuel whiskers, pausing to take a look at tom kitten--"i do _not_ think it will be a good pudding. it smells sooty." anna maria was about to argue the point, when all at once there began to be other sounds up above--the rasping noise of a saw; and the noise of a little dog, scratching and yelping! [illustration] the rats dropped the rolling-pin, and listened attentively. "we are discovered and interrupted, anna maria; let us collect our property--and other people's,--and depart at once." "i fear that we shall be obliged to leave this pudding." [illustration] "but i am persuaded that the knots would have proved indigestible, whatever you may urge to the contrary." "come away at once and help me to tie up some mutton bones in a counterpane," said anna maria. "i have got half a smoked ham hidden in the chimney." [illustration] so it happened that by the time john joiner had got the plank up--there was nobody under the floor except the rolling-pin and tom kitten in a very dirty dumpling! [illustration] but there was a strong smell of rats; and john joiner spent the rest of the morning sniffing and whining, and wagging his tail, and going round and round with his head in the hole like a gimlet. [illustration] then he nailed the plank down again and put his tools in his bag, and came downstairs. the cat family had quite recovered. they invited him to stay to dinner. the dumpling had been peeled off tom kitten, and made separately into a bag pudding, with currants in it to hide the smuts. they had been obliged to put tom kitten into a hot bath to get the butter off. john joiner smelt the pudding; but he regretted that he had not time to stay to dinner, because he had just finished making a wheel-barrow for miss potter, and she had ordered two hen-coops. and when i was going to the post late in the afternoon--i looked up the lane from the corner, and i saw mr. samuel whiskers and his wife on the run, with big bundles on a little wheel-barrow, which looked very like mine. they were just turning in at the gate to the barn of farmer potatoes. samuel whiskers was puffing and out of breath. anna maria was still arguing in shrill tones. she seemed to know her way, and she seemed to have a quantity of luggage. i am sure _i_ never gave her leave to borrow my wheel-barrow! [illustration] [illustration] they went into the barn, and hauled their parcels with a bit of string to the top of the hay mow. [illustration] after that, there were no more rats for a long time at tabitha twitchit's. [illustration] as for farmer potatoes, he has been driven nearly distracted. there are rats, and rats, and rats in his barn! they eat up the chicken food, and steal the oats and bran, and make holes in the meal bags. and they are all descended from mr. and mrs. samuel whiskers--children and grand-children and great great grand-children. there is no end to them! moppet and mittens have grown up into very good rat-catchers. they go out rat-catching in the village, and they find plenty of employment. they charge so much a dozen, and earn their living very comfortably. [illustration] [illustration] they hang up the rats' tails in a row on the barn door, to show how many they have caught--dozens and dozens of them. [illustration] but tom kitten has always been afraid of a rat; he never durst face anything that is bigger than-- [illustration] a mouse. transcriber's note: every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as possible, including some inconsistencies of hyphenation. italic text has been marked with _underscores_. studies in the art of rat-catching. by h. c. barkley, author of "my boyhood," "between the danube and the black sea," etc. popular edition. london: john murray, albemarle street. . london: printed by william clowes and sons, limited, stamford street and charing cross. preface. my publisher writes to say that he, and he thinks others too, would like to know how i ever came to write such a book as this! it came about in this way. some two years ago, i was about to leave england for a considerable time, and a few days before starting, i went to stay in a country house, full of lads and lassies, to say good-bye. one evening, while sitting over the study fire, the subject of rat-catching came up and, as the aged are somewhat wont to do, i babbled on about past days and various rat-catching experiences, till one of the boys exclaimed, "i say, what sport it would be if they would only teach rat-catching at school! wouldn't i just work hard then, that's all!" the stories came to an end at bed-time, and i was then pressed by my hearers to write from foreign lands some more of my old reminiscences, and i readily gave a promise to do so. in this way most of the following stories were written; and in writing them, i endeavoured to carry out the idea that they were exercises to be used in schools. i don't anticipate that head-masters will very generally adopt the book in their schools; but i hope it may, in some few instances, give boys a taste for a wholesome country pastime. the characters and incidents are rough, very rough, pen and ink sketches of real people and scenes, and the dogs are all dear friends of past days. contents. chapter i. _page_ the ferret family--crossed with the polecat--choosing ferrets--hutches--feeding ferrets--"bar the tail"--handling ferrets chapter ii. bag _versus_ box--ferrets fighting--the ratting spade-- ratting tools--hints to schoolmasters--learning dog-language--with a scold in the voice--dogs' kennel--treating dogs kindly--dogs in their proper place chapter iii. aristocratic _versus_ plutocratic--come-by-chance--chance's friend--nondescript tinker--grindum--how i got grindum-- grindum's friends--jack and his sister--"jack took me"-- end of an ugly story--grindum's first rat--pepper and wasp chapter iv. a day's ratting--an autumn walk--"steady, dogs, steady"--a ferret disabled--rats up a pollard--a rat-catcher's picnic--rats in a drain--a weary walk home--"kennel, dogs, kennel" chapter v. a poor day's ratting--a rat in a queer place--rats in my lady's chamber--rats in a house--slaughter in a cellar--dead rats in a house chapter vi. a november day--a laid-up ferret--a tramp home in the wet--a snug evening--things students should know--muzzling ferrets--sucking blood--a strange use for a dog's tail chapter vii. rabbit catching--tools for rabbit catching--an easy day's rabbiting--ferreting a bank--a deep dig in the sand--a day with the purse nets--necessity of silence--ferrets without muzzles--how to kill rabbits chapter viii. trip to the seaside--surveying the hunting ground--a view from the cliffs--a sea view--the rector's daughter--doctoring the burrows--running out nets--"hie in, good dogs" chapter ix. the beginning of a storm--a ship in distress--the village harbour--a fisherman's home--little jack, the cripple-- waiting for the boats--a rough old fish-wife--the return of the fishermen chapter x. the rector's story--a ship in danger running straight on the rocks--to the rescue--watching the boat--breaking up of the ship--beyond the storms of life--life in the little one-- nature's gifts--what a hodge-podge introduction. addressed to all schoolboys. ever since i was a boy, and ah! long, long before that, i fancy, the one great anxiety of parents of the upper and middle classes blessed with large families has been, "what are we to do with our boys?" and the cry goes on increasing, being intensified by the depreciation in the value of land, and by our distant colonies getting a little overstocked with young gentlemen, who have been banished to them by thousands, to struggle and strive, sink or swim, as fate wills it. at home, all professions are full and everything has been tried; and, go where you will, even the children of the noble may be found wrestling with those of the middle and working classes for every piece of bread that falls in the gutter. nothing is _infra dig._ that brings in a shilling, and all has been and is being tried. the sons of the great are to be found shoulder to shoulder with "tommy atkins," up behind a hansom cab, keeping shops, selling wines, horses, cigars, coals, and generally endeavouring feebly to shoulder the son of the working man out of the race over the ropes. fortunately heaven tempers the wind to the shorn lamb, and i believe it has done so now. i believe kind dame nature during the last summer has stepped in and opened out an honourable path for many gentlemen's sons, that i think will be their salvation, and at all events, if it does not make them all rich, will, if they only follow it, make them most useful members of society and keep them out of mischief and out of their mammas' snug drawing-rooms. i have followed the path myself, and, after fifty years' tramp down it, have been forced to abandon it owing to gout and rheumatism. i have not picked up a big fortune at it, or become celebrated, except quite locally; but i have had a good time and helped the world in general, and am content with my past life. i was the son of a worthy country parson, who in my youth proposed to me in turn to become a judge, a bishop, a general, a gladstone, a nelson, a sir james paget, and a ritualistic curate; but when talking to me on the subject the good old man always said, "mind, my boy, though i propose these various positions for you, yet, if you have any decided preference yourself, i will not thwart you, i will not fly in the face of nature." for some time i thought i should rather like to be a bishop, and to this day i think i should have made a good one; but _the_ voice spoke at last, and my destiny was settled. with the modest capital of five shillings given me by my father, and a mongrel terrier, given me by a poacher who had to go into retirement for killing a pheasant and half killing a keeper, i began my career as a--but i had better give you one of my professional cards. here it is-- bob joy, rat-catcher _to h.r.h. the prince of wales, the nobility and gentry._ i had a struggle at first. rats, full-grown ones, only fetched twopence each, and the system adopted by farmers of letting their rat-killing, for, say, three pounds a year for a farm of acres, almost broke me; but i stuck to my profession, and do not regret having done so. in those days, and during all my active life, i have had to work to live, owing to the constant scarcity of rats; but if i managed to make a living then, what might not be done now, when nature has sent the rat to our homesteads by thousands, and farmers and others are being eaten off the face of the earth by them? why, my dear young friends, your fortune stares you in the face, and you have only to stretch out your hand and grasp it--no! i have made a mistake: you have a little more to do--you have, first, to learn your profession, which is no easy matter; and to enable you to do this, i intend writing the following book for the use of schools (which i herewith dedicate to the head masters of eton, harrow, westminster, rugby, and all other schools); but in placing this book on your school-desk, allow me to say that it is no good having it there through the long school hours unless you open it, read it, and deeply ponder over it; and more, my dear boys, let me pray that you will take it home with you, and, casting aside your usual holiday task, study it well, and, as far as possible, actively put in practice what i am going to try and teach you. some fathers may wish their sons to enter on a more humble course of life, but this i rather doubt. however, should they do so, it will be only so much the better for those who take it up: there will be more room for them. most mothers, i fear, will object to it on the ground that rats and ferrets don't smell nice; but this objection is not reasonable. they might as well say that the whiff of a fox on a soft december morning as you ride to covert is not delicious! respect your parents, respect even their prejudices; gently point out to your father that you are ambitious and wish for a career in which you can distinguish yourself. above all, respect your mother, and show your respect by not taking ferrets or dead rats in your pockets into her drawing-room, and by washing your hands a little between fondling them and cuddling her. but to finish this sermon, let me point out that though in this great profession you will be everlastingly mixed up with dogs of all sorts, always make _them_ come to _you_, and _never go to them_. one last word. if in the following pages you come across a bit of grammar or spelling calculated to make a head master sit up, excuse it, and remember that i have been a rat-catcher all my life, and as a class we are not quite a at book learning. [illustration] studies in rat catching for the use of schools. chapter i. in the following elementary treatise for the use of public schools, i propose following exactly the same plan as my parson (a good fellow not afraid of a ferret or a rat) does with his sermons--that is, divide it into different heads, and then jumble up all the heads with the body, till it becomes as difficult to follow as a rat's hole in a soft bank; and, to begin with, i am going to talk about ferrets, for without them rat-catching won't pay. where ferrets first came from i am not sure, but somewhere i have read that they were imported from morocco, and that they are not natives of great britain any more than the ordinary rat is. if they were imported, then that importer ranks in my mind with, but before, christopher columbus and all such travellers. anyhow it is quite clear that nowhere in great britain are there wild ferrets, for they are as distinct from the stoat, the mouse-hunter, the pole-cat, etc., as i am from a red indian; and yet all belong to the same family, so much so that i have known of a marriage taking place between the ferret and pole-cat, the offspring of which have again married ferrets and in their turn have multiplied and increased, which is a proof that they are not mules, for the children of mules, either in birds or beasts, do not have young ones. there are two distinct colours in ferrets--one is a rich dark brown and tan, and the other white with pink eyes; and in my opinion one is just as good as the other for work, though by preference i always keep the white ferret, as it is sooner seen if it comes out of a hole and works away down a fence or ditch bottom. i have never known a dark-coloured ferret coming among a litter of white ones or a white among the dark; but there is a cross between the two which produces a grizzly beast, generally bigger than its mother, which i have for many years avoided, though it is much thought of in some parts of the midlands. i fancy (though i may be wrong) that the cross is a dull slow ferret, wanting in dash and courage, and not so friendly and affectionate as the others, and therefore apt to stick with just its nose out of a hole so that you can't pick it up, or else it will "lay up" and give a lot of trouble digging it out. for rat-catching the female ferret should always be used, as it is not half the size of the male, and can therefore follow a rat faster and better in narrow holes; in fact, an ordinary female ferret should be able to follow a full-grown rat anywhere. the male ferret should be kept entirely for rabbiting, as he has not to follow down small holes, and being stronger than the female can stand the rough knocking about he often gets from a rabbit better than his wife can. in buying a ferret for work, get one from nine to fifteen months old, as young ferrets i find usually have more courage and dash than an old one. they have not been so often punished and therefore do not think discretion the better part of valour. however this will not be found to be an invariable rule. i have known old ferrets that would have faced a lion and seemed to care nothing about being badly bitten; whereas i have known a young ferret turn out good-for-nothing from having one sharp nip from a rat. such beasts had better be parted with, for a bad, slow, or cowardly ferret is vexation of spirit and not profitable. if i am buying brown ferrets i always pick the darkest, as i fancy they have most dash. this may be only fancy, or it may be the original ferret was white and that the brown is the cross between it and the polecat, and that therefore the darker the ferret, the more like it is in temper as well as colour to its big, strong, wild ancestor. anyhow i buy the dark ones. if i am buying female ferrets, i like big _long_ ones, as a small ferret has not weight enough to tackle a big rat, and therefore often gets desperately punished. i like to see the ferrets in a tub, end up, looking well nourished and strong; and directly i touch the tub i like to see them dash out of their hidden beds in the straw and rush to spring up the sides like a lot of furies. when i put my hand in to take one, i prefer not to be bitten; but yet i have often known a ferret turn out very well that has begun by making its teeth meet through my finger. when i have the ferret in hand, i first look at its tail and then at its feet, and if these are clean it will do. if, on the other hand, i find a thin appearance about the hairs of its tail and a black-looking dust at the roots, the ferret goes back into the tub; or if the underside of the feet are black and the claws encrusted with dirt, i will have nothing to say to it, as it has the mange and will be troublesome to cure. all this done, i put the ferret on the ground and keep picking it up and letting it go; if when i do this it sets up the hairs of its tail, arches its back and hisses at me, i may buy it; but i know, if i do, i shall have to handle it much to get it tame. if, on the other hand, when i play with it the ferret begins to dance sideways and play, i pay down my money and take it at once, for i have never known a playful ferret to prove a bad one. if when you get the ferret it is wild and savage, it should be constantly handled till it is quite tamed before it is used. little brothers and sisters will be found useful at this. give them the ferret to play with in an empty or nearly empty barn or shed where it cannot escape. put into the shed with them some long drain pipes, and tell them to ferret rats out of them. the chances are they will put the ferret through them and pick it up so often, that it will learn there is nothing to fear when it comes out of a real rat's hole, and will ever after "come to hand" readily. you had better not be in the way when the children return to their mother or nurse. i have had disagreeable moments on such occasions. having got all your ferrets, the next question is how to keep them. i have tried scores of different houses for them. i have kept them in a big roomy shed, in tubs, in boxes, and in pits in the ground; but now i always use a box with three compartments. the left-hand compartment should be the smallest and filled with wheat-straw well packed in, with a small round hole a little way up the division, for the ferrets to use as a door. the middle compartment should be empty and have the floor and front made of wire netting, to allow light, ventilation and drainage. the third compartment should be entered from the middle one by a hole in the division, but should have a strong tin tray fitting over the floor of it covered with sand, which can be drawn out and cleaned; the front of this compartment, too, should be wire netting. the sand tray should be removed and cleaned every day, even sundays. the house should stand on legs about a foot high. each compartment should have a separate lid, and the little entrance holes through the divisions should have a slide to shut them, so that any one division can be opened without all the ferrets rushing out. the bed should be changed once a week. such a box as i have shown is large enough for ten ferrets. for a mother with a family a much smaller box will suffice, but it should be made on the same plan. for bedding use only wheat-straw. either barley-straw or hay will give ferrets mange in a few days. after housing the ferrets, they will require feeding. i have always given my ferrets bread and milk once or twice a week, which was placed in flat tins in the middle compartment; but care should be taken to clean out the tins each time, as any old sour milk in them will turn the fresh milk and make the ferrets ill. the natural food of ferrets is flesh--the flesh of small animals--and therefore it should be the chief food given. small birds, rats and mice are to them dainty morsels, but the ferrets will be sure to drag these into their beds to eat and will leave the skins untouched; these should be removed each day. when my ferrets are not in regular work they are fed just before sunset; if they are fed in the morning they are no good for work all day, and one can never tell (except on sundays) that one of the dogs may not find a rat that _wants_ killing. the day before real work, i give the ferrets bread and milk in the morning, and nothing on the day they go out until their work is over. this makes them keen. remember ferrets work hard in a big day's ratting, and therefore should be well nourished and strong; a ferret that is not will not have the courage to face a rat. i have listened to all sorts of theories from old hands about feeding ferrets, but have followed the advice of few. for instance, i have been told that if you give flesh, such as rats and birds, to a ferret that has young ones, it will drag it into the straw among the little ones, who will get the blood on them, and then the mother will eat them by mistake. all i can say is, i have reared hundreds of young ferrets and have always given the mothers flesh. it is true that ferrets will eat their young, and the way to bring this about is to disturb the babies in the nest. if you leave them quite alone till they begin to creep about i believe there is no danger. then many old rat-catchers never give a ferret a rat with its tail on, as they believe there is poison in it. i remember one old fellow saying to me as he cut off the tail before putting the rat into the ferrets' box, "bar the tail--i allus bars the tail--there's wenom in the tail." there may be "wenom" in it; but, if there is, it won't hurt the ferrets, for they never eat it or the skin. if ferrets are properly cared for they are rarely ill, and the only trouble i have ever had is with mange, which, as i have said before, attacks the tail and feet. most rat-catchers keep a bottle of spirits of tar, with which they dress the affected parts. it cures the mange, but, by the way the poor little beasts hop about after being dressed, i fear it stings dreadfully. i have always used sulphur and lard, and after rubbing it well in a few times i have always found it worked a cure. the _objection_ to sulphur and lard is that it does not hurt, for i have noticed that sort of man generally prefers using a remedy that hurts a lot--that is, where the patient is not himself, but an animal. no big day's ratting ever takes place without a ferret getting badly bitten. when this is so, the ferret should never be used again until it is quite well. it should be sent home and put in a quiet box, apart from the others, and the bites gently touched with a little sweet oil from time to time; or, if it festers much, it should be sponged with warm water. i have often had ferrets die of their wounds, and these have usually been the best i had. again, with wounds the old rat-catcher uses the tar-bottle, chiefly, i think, because it hurts the ferret, and therefore must have "a power of wirtue." before going further i should point out to all students of this ennobling profession that the very first thing they have to learn is to pick up a ferret. don't grab it by its tail, or hold it by its head as you would a mad bull-dog; but take hold of it lightly round the shoulders, with its front legs falling gracefully out below from between your fingers. then when you go to the box for your ferrets, and they come clambering up the side like a pack of hungry wolves, put your hand straight in among them without a glove, and pick up which one you require. don't hesitate a moment. don't dangle your hand over their heads till you can make a dash and catch one. the ferrets will only think your hand is their supper coming and will grab it, with no ill intent; but if you put it down steadily and slowly, they will soon learn you only do so to take them out, and your hand will become as welcome to them as flowers in spring. true, at first, with strange ferrets you may be bitten; but it is not a very serious thing if you are, as ferrets' bites are never venomous, as the bites of rats often are. i have in my time been bitten by ferrets many dozens of times and have never suffered any ill effects. there, i think that is enough for your first lesson, so i will send it off at once and get it printed for you. chapter ii. the first chapter of this lesson-book has gone to the printer, so i don't quite know what i said in it, but i think we had finished the home-life of the ferret and were just taking it out of its box. different professors have different opinions as to what is next to be done with it. many (and they are good men too) think you should put it into a box about eighteen inches long, ten inches high, and ten wide; the box to be divided into two compartments, with a lid to each, and with leather loops to these lids through which to thrust a pointed spade so as to carry it on your shoulder. i have tried this plan, but i have never quite liked it. i have found that after a heavy day's work the box was apt to get heavy and feel as if it were a grandfather's clock hanging on your back. then the ratting spade was engaged instead of being free to mump a rat on the head in a hurry, or point out a likely hole to the dogs. when a ferret was wanted, all the others would dash out and have to be hunted about to be re-caught. now and then the lids came open and let all out; and now and then i let the box slip off the spade and fall to the ground, and then i felt sorry for the ferrets inside it! no, i have always carried my ferrets in a good strong canvas bag, with a little clean straw at the bottom, and a leather strap and buckle stitched on to it with which to close it. don't tie the bag with a piece of string--it is sure to get lost; and don't have a stiff buckle on your strap that takes ten minutes to undo. remember the life of a rat may depend upon your getting your ferret out quickly. never throw the bag of ferrets down; lay them down gently. don't leave the bag on the ground in a broiling sun with some of the ferrets in it while you are using the others, or in a cold draughty place on a cold day; find a snug corner for them, if you can, and cover them up with a little straw or grass to keep them warm. if, when carrying your ferrets, they chatter in the bag, let them; it is only singing, not fighting. i have never known a ferret hurt another in a bag. always bag your ferret as soon as you have done with it; don't drag it about in your hand for half an hour, and don't put it in your pocket, as it will make your coat smell. when i have done work and turned towards home, i have made it a rule always to put a dead rat into the bag, as i think it amuses the ferrets and breaks the monotony of a long journey; just as when i run down home i like taking a snack at swindon station, just to divert my mind from the racketing of the train and the thought of the hard seat. when you get home, give the ferrets a rat for every two of them, if you can afford it, for then they need only eat the best joints. if you have not many dead rats and want to save some for the morrow, one rat for three ferrets is enough for twenty-four hours; but don't forget to give them water or milk. i think i have said enough as to the management of ferrets, and will go on to speak of the necessary tools. the chief thing is a good ratting spade. what the musket is to the soldier, the spade is to the rat-catcher. you may get on without it, but you won't do much killing. i have tried many shapes, but the one i like best is on the pattern of the above drawing. it should not be too heavy, but yet strong; and, therefore, the handle should be made of a good piece of ash, and the other parts of the best tempered steel, and the edge should be sharp enough to cut quickly through a thick root. the spike should be sharp, so as easily to enter the ground and feel for a lost hole. this will constantly save a long dig and much time; besides, one can often bolt a rat by a few well-directed prods in a soft bank--not that i approve of this, as there may be more than one rat in the hole, and by prodding out one you are contented to leave others behind. no, i think the ferret should go down every hole challenged by the dogs, as then you are pretty sure of making a clean job of it. besides the spade, i have always kept a few trap boxes. these are to catch a ferret should one lay up and have to be left behind. i bait them with a piece of rat and place them at the mouth of the hole, and it is rare i don't find the ferret in it in the morning. i also take one of these traps with me if i am going where rats are very numerous; then, if a ferret stops too long in a hole, i stick the mouth of the trap over the hole and pack it round with earth and stop up all the bolt holes, and then go on working with the other ferrets. when the sluggard is at last tired of the hole, it walks into the trap, shoving up the wire swing door, which falls down behind it, and there it has to stop till you fetch it. if i am going to ferret wheat stacks where rats have worked strong, i take with me half a dozen pieces of thin board about a foot long. i do so for this reason. the first thing rats do when they take possession of a stack is to make a good path, or run, all round it just under the eaves; and when disturbed by ferrets, they get into this run and keep running away round and round the stack without coming to the ground. therefore, before putting in the ferrets, i take a ladder, and going round the eaves of the stack i stick the boards in so as to cut off these runs, and when a rat goes off for a gallop he comes to "no thoroughfare," and feeling sure the ferret is after him, he in desperation comes to the ground, and then the dogs can have a chance. i once killed twenty-eight rats out of a big stack in twenty minutes after the ferrets were put in, all thanks to these stop-boards; and though i ran the ferrets through and through the stack afterwards, i did not start another, and so i believe i had got the lot. i think i have enumerated all the tools required for rat-catching. i need not mention a knife and a piece of string, as all honest men have them in their pocket always, even on sundays. some rat-catchers take with them thick leather gloves to save their getting bitten by a rat or a ferret; but i despise such effeminate ways, and i consider he does not know his profession if he cannot catch either ferret or rat with his naked hands. i must now turn to the subject of dogs--one far more important than either ferrets or tools, and one so large that if i went on writing and writing to the end of my days i should not get to the end of it, and so shall only make a few notes upon it as a slight guide to the student, leaving him to follow it up and work it out for himself; but in so doing i beg to say that his future success as a rat-catcher will depend on his mastering the subject. but, before proceeding further, i am anxious to say a few words in parenthesis for the benefit of the head masters of our schools. admirable as their academies are for turning out greek and latin scholars, i cannot help thinking a proper provision is seldom made in their establishments for acquiring a real working knowledge of the profession of a rat-catcher; and i wish to suggest that it would be as well to insist on all those students who wish to take up this subject keeping at school at least one good dog and a ferret, and that two afternoons a week should be set apart entirely for field practice, and that the cost of this should be jotted down at the end of each term in the little school account that is sent home to the students' parents. i know most high-spirited boys will object to this and call it a fresh tyranny, and ever after hate me for proposing it; but i do it under a deep sense of duty, being convinced that it is far better they should perfectly master the rudimentary knowledge of such an honest profession as that of rat-catcher, than that they should drift on through their school life with no definite future marked out, finally to become perhaps such scourges of society as m.p.s who make speeches when parliament is not sitting. judging from the columns of the newspapers, there must be many thousands who come to this most deplorable end; and if i can only turn one from such a vicious course, i shall feel i have benefitted mankind even more than by killing rats and other vermin. now i must return to the subject of dogs, and in doing so i will first begin on their masters, for to make a good dog, a good master is also absolutely necessary. anybody that has thought about it knows that as is the master, so is the dog. a quiet man has a quiet dog, a quarrelsome man a quarrelsome dog, a bright quick man a bright quick dog, and a loafing idle ruffian a slinking slothful cur. first of all, then, the dog's master must understand dog talk; for they do talk, and eloquently too, with their tongues, their ears, their eyes, their legs, their tail, and even with the hairs on their backs; and therefore don't be astonished if you find me saying in the following pages, "pepper told me this," or "wasp said so-and-so." why, i was once told by a bull terrier that a country policeman was a thief, and, "acting on information received," i got the man locked up in prison for three months, and it just served him right. having learnt dog language, use it to your dog in a reasonable way: talk to him as a friend, tell him the news of the day, of your hopes and fears, your likes and dislikes, but above all use talk always in the place of a whip. for instance, when breaking in a young dog not to kill a ferret, take hold of the dog with a short line, put the ferret on the ground in front of him, and when he makes a dash at it say, "what _are_ you up to? war ferret! why, i gave four and sixpence for that, you fool, and now you want to kill it! look here (picking the ferret up and fondling it), this is one of my friends. smell it (putting it near his nose). different from a rat, eh? rather sweet, ain't it? war ferret, war ferret! would you, you rascal? ain't you ashamed of yourself? war ferret, war ferret!" repeat this a few times for two or three days, and when you first begin working the dog and he is excitedly watching for a rat to bolt, just say "war ferret" to him, and he will be sure to understand. should he, however, in his excitement make a dash at a ferret, shout at him to stop, and then, picking up the ferret, rub it over his face, all the time scolding him well for what he has done; but don't hit him, and probably he will never look at a ferret again. in my opinion there is nothing like a thrashing to spoil a dog or a boy; reason with them and talk to them, and if they are worth keeping they will understand and obey. mind, a dog must always obey, and obey at the first order. always give an order in a decided voice as if you meant it, and never overlook the slightest disobedience. one short whistle should always be enough. if the dog does not obey, call him up and, repeating the whistle, scold him _with a scold in your voice_. don't shout or bawl at him for all the country to hear and the rats too, but just make your _words sting_. if he repeats his offence, put a line and collar on him and lead him for half an hour, telling him all the time why you do so, and he will be so ashamed of himself that the chances are he will obey you ever after. put yourself in the dog's place. fancy if, when you have "kicked a bit over the traces" at school, the head-master, instead of thrashing you, made you walk up and down the playground or cricket-field with him for half an hour; but no, that would be too awful; it would border on brutality! but you would not forget it in a hurry. we humans often behave well and do good, not because it is our duty so to do, but for what the world will say and for the praise we may get. dogs are not in all things superior to humans, and in this matter of praise i fear they are even inferior to us. they most dearly love praise, and a good dog should always get it for any and every little service he renders to man. remember, he is the only living thing that takes a _pleasure_ in working for man, and his sole reward is man's approbation. give it him, then, and give it him hot and warm when he deserves it, and he will be willing to do anything for you and will spend his life worshipping you and working for you; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, he is yours, with no sneaking thoughts of a divorce court in the background. there is another thing a master should always do for his dog himself and do it with reason. see to his comfort; see that he has good food and water and is comfortably lodged. don't let him be tied up to a hateful kennel in a back yard, baked by the sun in summer and nearly frozen in winter; often without water, and with food thrown into a dish that is already half full of sour and dirty remains of yesterday's dinner. this is not reasonable and is cruel. when he is not with you, shut him up in a kennel, big or little, made as nearly as you can have it on the model of a kennel for hounds. let it be cool and airy in summer and snug and warm in winter; keep all clean--kennel, food, dishes, water and beds. don't forget that different dogs have different requirements; for instance, that a long thick coated dog will sleep with comfort out in the snow, while a short-coated one will shiver in a thick bed of straw. picture to yourself, as you tuck the warm blankets round you on a cold winters night, what your thin-coated pointer is undergoing in a draughty kennel on a bare plank bed, chained up to a "misery trap" in the back yard, which is half full of drifted snow. think of it, and get up and put the dog in a spare loose box in the stable for the night, and have a proper kennel made for him in the morning. i once had a favourite dog named "rough" that died of distemper. a small child asked me a few days afterwards if dogs when they died went to heaven, and i, not knowing better, answered, "yes"; and the child said, "won't rough wag his old tail when he sees me come in?" when you "come in" i hope there will be all your departed dogs wagging their tails to meet you. it will depend upon how you have treated them here; but take my word for it, my friend, you will never be allowed to pass that door if the dogs bark and growl at you. don't suppose i am a sentimental "fat pug on a string" sort of man. next to humans i like dogs best of all creatures. why, i have made my living by their killing rats for me at twopence per rat and three pound a farm, and i am grateful: but i like dogs in their proper place. for instance, as a rule, i dislike a dog in the house. the house was meant for man and should be kept for him. i think when a man goes indoors his dog should be shut up in the kennel and not be allowed to wander about doing mischief, eating trash, learning to loaf, and under no discipline. now and then i do allow an old dog that has done a life's hard work to roam about as he likes, and even walk into my study (i mean kitchen) and sit before the fire and chat with me; but, then, such dogs have established characters, and nothing can spoil them; besides, they are wise beasts with a vast experience, and i can learn a lot from them. it was from one of these i learnt all about the prigging policeman. a young dog is never good for much who is allowed to run wild; every one is his master and he obeys no one, and when he is taken out he is dull and stupid, thinking more of the kitchen scraps than of business. no, when i go to work, i like to let the dogs out myself, to see them dash about, dance around, jump up at me and bark with joy. i like to see the young ones topple each other over in sport, and the old ones gallop on ahead to the four crossways, and stand there watching to see which way i am going, and then, when i give them the direction with a wave of the hand, bolt off down the road with a wriggle of content. you might trust your life to dogs in such a joyful temper, for they would be sure to stand by you. thank you, young gentlemen; that is enough for this morning's lesson. you may now amuse yourselves with your ovid or euclid. chapter iii. i am a working man, or rather have been till i got the rheumatics, and as such i naturally stick to my own class and prefer associating with those of my own sort, and therefore i always keep working dogs. i have often bred aristocratic dogs, dogs descended from great prize-winners and with long pedigrees, and among them i have had some good ones, honest and true; but as a rule i must say my experience proves that the shorter the pedigree the better the dog, and now if i could get them i should like to keep dogs that never had a father. some people i know call me a cad, a clod, a chaw-bacon, etc., and they call my dogs curs and mongrels. such men talk nonsense and should be kept specially to make speeches during the recess. i don't care to defend _myself_ but i must stand up for my dogs against all comers; and i assert boldly that, nine times out of ten, a dog with no pedigree is worth two with a long one. when i get a new dog i never ask who he is, or who his father was, but i go by his looks and his performances. there are dogs like men in all classes, who have either a mean, spiteful, vicious look, or a dull, heavy, dead one; such i avoid both in dog and man, for i find they are not worth knowing. any other dog will do for me, and even now, though i don't often go ratting, i have as good a lot as ever stood at a hole, and i don't think i can do better than describe them as a guide to students when they come to getting a kennel together. first of all, i never give a lot of money for a dog--how can i with rats at twopence each?--but, if i can, i drop on a likely-looking young one about a year old who was going to be "put away" on account of the tax. i got the oldest i have now in the kennel in this way. it followed george adams, the carrier, home one night, and to this day has never been claimed; and when the tax-collector spoke to him about it, he offered it to me, and i took it and gave it the name of "come-by-chance," but in the family and among friends she is now called "chance." if chance is of any family i should think her mother was a setter and her father a bob-tail sheep-dog; but, then, i can't make out where she got her legs! she is red and white, with a perfect setter's head. she has the hind parts of a sheep-dog and evidently never had a tail; and her legs, which are very thick, would be short for a big terrier. such are her looks, which certainly are not much to speak of; but if i had the pen of a sir walter scott i could not do credit to the perfection of her character. for seven years she has been the support of my business, and i can safely say she has caused the death of more rats than all my other dogs put together. i say _caused_, for she is slow at killing and leaves this matter of detail to younger hands. if another dog is not near she will _catch_ a rat and even kill it; but she has a soft mouth, and all the other dogs, except quite the youngest, know this, and, against the rule, will always dash in when she has a rat in her mouth and take it from her, and she gives it up without a struggle. no, her forte is to _find_ a rat. she is always in and out, up the bank, through the hedge, down the bank; not a tuft of grass escapes her, and she would hunt down each side of regent street and in and out of the carriages if she found herself there. she lives hunting. nothing ever escapes her; one sniff at the deepest and most turn-about hole is enough. if the rat is not in, on she goes in a minute; but should it be ensconced deep down in the furthest corner, she stops at once and just turns her head round and says quietly to me, "here's one." then, whilst i am getting out a ferret, over the bank she goes, in and out the hedge in all directions, and never fails to find and mark every bolt-hole for the other dogs to stand at that belongs to the one where the rat is. as soon as i begin to put in the ferret, she will come over the hedge, give herself a shake, and sit down and watch the proceedings, not offering to take a part herself, as she feels there are more able dogs ready, and that this is not her strong point. suppose a rat bolts and is killed and the ferret comes out, chance will never leave the hole till she has taken a sniff at it to make sure all the rats have been cleared out. i have never known her make a mistake. if _she_ says there is a rat in, there is one without any doubt; if she says there is not, it is no good running a ferret through the hole. should i be alone, with no one to look out for the ferret when it comes out on the other side of a bank, chance without a word being said to her will get over and look out, and directly the ferret appears will come back to me and give a wriggle, looking in the direction of the ferret, and then i know i must get over and pick it up. she has one peculiarity. when she followed george adams home, seven years ago, she was shy and scared; but, as it was a cold night, george, being a kind-hearted fellow, invited her to step indoors, an invitation she accepted in a frightened sort of way. on the hearth sat a little girl of three years old, eating her supper, and chance, doubtless feeling very hungry, came and sat down in front of her and watched her with a wistful look. the child was not afraid and soon began feeding the dog, who took the pieces of food most gently from her fingers. when the child was taken up to bed, chance secretly followed, and getting under the crib slept there all night. only once since then has chance failed to sleep in that same place, and that was the first night i had her. she was shut up in the kennel and never stopped barking all night. since then she has always followed me home, eaten her supper at the kitchen door, and then gone off to her bed under the crib. early in the morning she is again at my door and never goes near george's house till bed-time. if chance has no tail, the next dog on the list, "tinker," makes up the average. he is a little black, hard-coated dog, with the head of a greyhound and tail of a foxhound. his head is nearly as long as his body, and his tail is just a little longer. in all ways he is a proficient at rat-catching, except that he has been known to mark a hole where there was no rat; but his strong point is killing. he will stand well back from a hole, and it does not matter how many rats bolt, or how fast, each gets one snap and is dead and dropped without tinker having moved a foot. i named him tinker, for a tinker gave him to me "cos he warn't no sort of waller." then on my list next comes "grindum," a mongrel bull-terrier, just the tenderest hearted, mildest dispositioned dog that ever killed a rat. he has but a poor nose and is not clever, but he has one strong point, which he developed for himself without being taught. it is this: when i am ferreting a thick hairy bank with a big ditch, grindum always goes some ten yards off and places himself in the ditch, and, let the excitement be what it will, he never moves; and should a rat in the thick grass escape the other dogs and bolt down the ditch, it is a miracle if it does not die when it reaches him. i have better and cleverer dogs, i know; but i think grindum brings in as many twopences as any of them, and we are not going to part! the way i got grindum is quite a little history, and i will tell it, though if you boys like, you can skip it and go on with a more serious part of your lesson. not far from where i lived there was, in a most out-of-the-way corner on a common, an old sand-pit, and in this a miserable dilapidated cottage, consisting of two rooms. this for some years had been empty, but one fine morning was discovered to be inhabited by a man, his wife and two children--a boy of twelve and a girl of seven--and a bull-terrier. no one knew anything about them or where they had come from, and when the landlord of the hut went to eject them, he found them in such a miserable half-starved condition that he left them alone. our parson called on them three times--the first time the wife told him they did not like strangers and parsons in particular; the second time the husband told him to clear out sharp, or he would do him a mischief; and the third time the man took up a knife and began sharpening it, preparatory, he said, to cutting the parson's throat! two months after this the man, after sitting drinking in the village pot-house all the morning, stepped round to an old mid-wife and asked her "to come and lay his wife out." the woman went and did her work and said nothing at the time, but later on it was whispered about that she had told some of her pals that "the poor crittur was black and blue, and that it was on her mind that the husband had murdered her!" after this, as i passed the cottage, i often saw the two children sitting on a log of wood outside, with the bull-dog sitting between them. none of the three ever moved out; all blinked their eyes at me as i passed, as if they were unaccustomed to the sight of a fellow-creature. two or three months passed, during which the man was constantly drinking at the village public-house; but he always left at sundown--"to look after the kids," he said. then there was a poaching fray on a nobleman's estate near. six keepers came on five poachers one moonlight night. there was a hard fight, and at last the keepers took two of the men and the other three bolted, but one was recognized as the man from the sand-pit and was "wanted" by the police. a few nights after this i was walking down a lane in the dark near my house, when the sand-pit man stepped out of the hedge, leading his dog by a cord, and turning to me said, "here, master, if you want a good dog, here is one for you; i am off to give myself up to the police, and i am going to turn queen's evidence against my pals." i replied that i did not want such a dog, so he said, "all right, then i'll cut his throat," and then and there prepared to do so. this was more than i could stand, so i took the cord and led the dog away, but before doing so, i asked, "how about your children?" he gave a short laugh, and said, "they would be properly provided for." it afterwards turned out that soon after leaving me he walked straight into the arms of two policemen, who saved him the trouble of giving himself up by taking him into custody. i led my new dog home and tied him up in the corner of an open wood-shed, giving him a bundle of straw and a dish of bones, and by the starved look of him i should say this was the biggest meal he had ever had in his life. i sat up late that night reading, and all the time in a remote corner of my mind the sand-pit man, the two children and the dog kept turning about, till at last, about midnight or later, i thought i would go to bed; but before doing so i made up my mind that i would see if my new dog was all right. i lit a lantern and stepped out of the door and found it was blowing and snowing and biting cold. mercifully i persevered and reached the wood-shed, and what i saw there by the light of my lantern did startle me. there was the bull-dog sure enough lying curled up in the straw blinking hard at me, but--could i believe my eyes?--there lying with him, with their arms entwined round each other and round the dog, were the two children from the sand-pit fast asleep, but looking so pale and pinched i thought they must be dead. i will give place to no man living at rat-catching and minding dogs, but here was a pretty mess, for i am no good with little children; so putting down my lantern, i hurried back to the house and got two rugs and with them wrapped the children and dog up snugly. then i went in and woke up my wife, who had already gone to bed, and called some other women who were in the house, and after telling them what i had found, i made up a big fire in the kitchen and put on some water to boil. in a very few minutes my wife was downstairs and battling her way with me off to the wood-shed. i untied the dog and moved him away from the children. this woke them both, and they sat up and rubbed their eyes, and the poor boy appeared almost scared to death, but the little girl was quite quiet, and only watched his face with a sad careworn old look which i pray i may never see on a child's face again. my wife is really smart with little children, and in half no time she was on her knees crooning over them, and soon she had the girl in her arms; but when i attempted to pick up the boy he only screamed and struggled, and kept calling out, "grindum, grindum! i won't leave grindum. i shall be killed if i leave grindum. let me stay with grindum." i assured him he should not be separated from grindum "never no more," and at last i partially quieted him, and he allowed me to carry him into the kitchen and place him on a stool in front of the fire with his sister, while his beloved grindum sat by his side blinking as if nothing unusual had taken place, and as if he had done the same each night for the last three months and felt a little bored by it. the first thing to be done, my wife said, was to feed the children, and while she and the other women busied about getting it ready, i sat and watched them. both were remarkably pretty; both dark, with finely cut features, big eyes and thick soft black hair; but yet in different ways both had something sad about them. the boy never sat still for a moment, but kept glancing fearfully at me, then at the women, and then at the door, as if he expected something dreadful to happen, and all the time kept grasping the arm of his little sister with one hand as if for protection, and clinging to the soft skin of grindum's neck with the other. if he caught my eye, or if i spoke to him, he flinched as if i had struck him, and turned livid and tugged so hard at grindum's skin that the poor dog's eyes were pulled into mere slits, through which i could see he yet went on blinking at the fire. the girl sat half turned round to the boy and never took her eyes off his face, looking the very essence of womanly pity and love. now and then when he suffered from a paroxysm of fear, she would softly stroke his face, which appeared to soothe him instantly; but nothing she could do could ever stop the wild restless look in his eyes or prevent his glancing about as if watching for some dreadful apparition. it was a sad, sad picture, made doubly striking by the utter stolidity and indifference of that awful dog, grindum. soon hot basins of bread and milk were prepared, which both children eat ravenously, and then they were put into steaming hot baths, washed, dried, combed, and wrapped in blankets; but when we attempted to take them up to the nice warm beds that had been prepared for them, there was the same wild terrified cry from the boy for grindum; and to pacify him the dog had to be taken upstairs with them, and half an hour later, when my wife and i peeped into the room, we saw the two children locked in each other's arms fast asleep, with grindum curled up on the bed next to the boy, yet blinking horribly, but perfectly composed and making himself at home. how those two children found their way that night through a blinding snow-storm to their only living friend, the dear blinking grindum, i never could find out. all i could ever get from the boy was, "oh, i always go where grindum goes!" and the little girl could only say, "jack took me." my wife says angels guided them. maybe she's right, but i hardly think angels would be likely to go about on such a night; still my wife went out in the snow and wind to the shed and got out of her snug bed to do it, but then she put on a pea jacket and clogs, and that makes a difference. this is a tiring long story to write, and i have not quite done it yet, for i must finish with the sand-pit man. he was tried, convicted and got three years. a year after he had been in prison he tried to escape by getting over a high wall, but in doing so he fell from the top and broke his back. he lingered some days and seemed to find a pleasure in telling the prison parson of all his misdeeds and in boasting of them. there was a long list, but only the last part of his story will serve for "the use of schools." it appears from what he said that, after he had given me the dog, he had intended to steal back to his house and take the two children to a deep pond and there drown them. then, free from family ties, he hoped to get away and ship himself off to america. he also said that in a fit of rage he had thrashed his wife to death with his fists, and that his boy from having seen him do it had gone mad with fear, and was so bad, especially at night, that if he had not got a bull-dog sleeping with him as a sort of friend, he would go into a fit with fear and was often unconscious for hours. it was an ugly story, and i am glad to say with the death of the sand-pit man the miserable part of the children's life ended. the girl is now twelve years old and has never left us. she is as sharp as a needle and as honest as old chance and as good. she is having a good education, thanks to our rector's wife, and could if need be earn her own livelihood, but we are not going ever to part with her. the boy jack was a great trouble to us at first. for months he would not be parted for a moment, day or night, from grindum, and the dog actually had to go to school with him; but the master utterly failed to teach the boy even as far as a b c in his alphabet, and the dog not to blink; and so, one fine day, i had both returned on my hands as hopeless ignoramuses. i could not keep a blinking dog at home in idleness, so i took him with me ratting, and as jack would not be parted from the dog, he had to come too. everyone says the boy is "cracked." he is queer, i will allow, but if you will find me a better hand at rat-catching in all its branches, i should like to look at him; and besides, if jack is cracked, then i like cracked boys, for i never came across one more obedient, more truthful, or more steady, and i find him a perfect treasure on the other side of the bank at the bolt holes. jack never mentions the past, and i should be inclined to think he had forgotten it, only if he is parted from grindum for a short time he becomes wild looking about the eyes again and restless. at such times his sister, who mothers him much, will sit by him and stroke his face softly, when he will quickly recover himself. i don't know what will happen when grindum "blinks his last," but the boy begins to follow me about and seems to cling to me, and by that time i hope i shall be so well liked by him that i may take grindum's place. just two words more about grindum and i have done. one is that the first time grindum caught a rat, he picked it up by its hind leg, and the rat made its teeth meet through his nose. he softly put the rat down and it escaped, and i made my sides ache and greatly astonished all the other dogs by laughing at this great soft beast as he sat on his haunches licking the blood as it trickled from his nose, and staring up into the sky with a far-off vacant look, blinking worse than ever. the other word is this. though grindum is a bull-dog with an awful "crush your bones, tear your flesh" look, he is just the gentlest-hearted beast out, and there is not a puppy in the kennel, nor a child in the village, who does not know this and impose on him shamefully. only last sunday i had to stop a small child of five from driving off in a four-wheeled cart, using grindum as a horse. once, and once only, grindum showed his temper. a big lout in the village threw a stone at him. grindum only blinked, but jack saw it and hit the lout, who being twice jack's size turned upon him and knocked him down. in half a minute grindum's teeth had met three times in the lout's calves and his trousers required reseating, and in three-quarters of a minute grindum was sitting down with a bland expression of countenance, blinking with both eyes at the sky. now to continue my lesson on ratting dogs. i have two others, pepper and wasp--one a badly bred spaniel, and the other a terrier of doubtful parentage. they are both nice cheerful young dogs that it is a pleasure to see either at play or work, but they are yet young and too apt to get excited and wild. they _will_, when a rat is out of his hole, in a hedge, dash up and down the entire length of the field, making enormous jumps in the air, during which time they listen keenly for the rustle of the rat in the grass; and once, but only once, pepper gave a yap when so rushing about, but i spoke to him so severely about this disgustingly low habit that he has never done it again. wasp is specially good at water, and i have taught him to come to me directly a rat is bolted with a plunge into a pond, and i carry her high up in my arms round the pond, and when the rat approaches the side, wasp from her high vantage ground will dive down upon it and have it in an instant. both dogs are quick killers and will, i am sure, in time be perfect; but as yet i do not think myself justified in putting them into a higher class with such dogs as chance and tinker. there! that is all for to-day, young gentlemen. resume your cicero, and, while you are preparing it, i will go to my room and look over the impositions i set you yesterday. it is understood that for "look over impositions" we may read, "smoke cavendish in a short black pipe." chapter iv. what do you say, boys? shall we drop this and have a day's outdoor practice? to tell the truth, i don't think much of book-learning, especially if the book is written by myself; but i do believe in practice. come along! it is the middle of october--just the nicest time of the year and the very best for ratting, for the vermin are yet out in the hedges, fine and strong from feeding in the corn, and with few young ones about. come, jack, we'll get the ferrets first; and off i go with the boy to the hutch, while the dogs in the kennel, having heard our steps and perfectly understanding what is up, bark and yap at the door, jump over each other, tumble and topple about like mad fiends. before i get to the box i hear the ferrets jumping up at the sides, and when i open the lid half a dozen are out in a moment, and these i bag as a reward for their activity. i throw the others a rat to console them for being left at home, and, giving the ferrets to jack, i strap on a big game bag, take up my spade, return and let the dogs out, and off we start. step out quick, jack; there are three miles to go before we get to work, and it is a.m. and i expect a big day. yes, chance, old lady, a fine day--a perfect day--a day to make both the feet and the heart light and every human sense rejoice. there has been just a little frost in the night: you can see that by the way the elms have spread a golden carpet under their branches in the lane and by their leaves that yet keep falling slowly one by one in the fresh, but dead still, air, and by the smell of the turnips, the fresh stubble and the newly turned earth behind yonder plough. the sun shines, cobwebs are floating through the air and get twisted round one's head, and far and near sounds such as a cart on the high road, a sheep dog barking, a boy singing, birds chirping, insects humming, the patter of our own feet, and the whispering of the brook under the bridge, all form part of a chorus heaven-sent to gladden the heart of man. i have heard tell, chance, or i have seen it in a book, or i have felt it myself, i don't quite know which, that those who in youth have had such a walk as this, and have heard the music, smelt the perfumes and seen the sights (that is if they were blessed with eyes to see, ears to hear, and hearts to take in), have never forgotten it. the memory appears for a time to pass away amidst the struggles of life, but it is never dead; to the soldier in battle, to the statesman in council, or the priest in prayers, to those in sorrow or in joy or in sickness, there may come, no one knows from where, no one knows why, a golden memory of such days, of such a walk. perhaps it is only a gleam resting but a second upon the mind, and perhaps leaving it saddened with a longing for days that are past, but yet i think making one feel a better man, giving one courage and hope, reminding one that, hard as the battle of life may be to fight, dark and gloomy as the days may be just now, another morning may arise for us, far, far more bright and glorious and joyful, one that will not be shadowed over by a returning night; but then that is only for the brave, the honest, the truthful--for those who are up early and strive late, never beaten, never doubting, always pressing forward. but, come out of that, wasp! don't you know that cows kick if you sniff at their heels? tinker, old man, keep your spirits up; pepper, come back from that wood, for it is preserved. yes, jack, i think i'll fill my pipe again. baccy does taste good on a day like this; but what doesn't? i feel like a ten-year-old and as fit as a fiddler. grindum, give over blinking and don't look so benevolent. no, chance, no, old lady, i can't pull your tail, for you haven't got one. what, jack, you say i haven't spoken for the past mile? well, i suppose i have been thinking, and my thoughts have not been wholly sad ones. open the gate; here we are; and you get over on the other side of the hedge and don't talk or make a noise, for i can see by the work the rats s-w-a-r-m. steady, dogs, steady! and so we start. the hedge is just what it should be, and if it had been made for ratting it could not be better. a round bank of soft earth, a shallow ditch with grass, little bush or bramble, and a gap every few yards. there is a gateway in the middle, which will make a hot corner later on when grindum has taken his stand there; and there is a pipe under the gateway, the far end of which i shall close. the rats have never been disturbed, for the runs are as fresh as oxford street, and i have already seen one or two rats run into the hedge lower down from out the wheat stubble, and, there! that whistle has sent a lot more in. steady, wasp! well done, chance; you have marked one in that hole near you, or more than one, is there? well, the more the merrier! stand, dogs, stand! are you ready, jack? and in goes a ferret as lively as quicksilver and as fierce as a tiger. for a minute all is quiet; then a slight stir on the other side and two snaps of tinker's lantern-jaws, and two rats dead; three others out of a side hole are killed by wasp, and three others accounted for by grindum, and that fool pepper is racing and jumping down the hedge a mile off. whistle! whistle! and back he comes, and at that moment jack picks up a ferret on the other side, it having gone through the hole. chance sniffs at it and says it is swept clear, and i block it up with my heel, and jack does the same to the bolt-hole, so that if a rat does come back later on the dogs will have a chance; and then on we go a few yards to the next hole which chance marks. this time the ferret went in like a lion and came out like a lamb, with the blood running out of the side of its face; and whilst i am examining the bite, a real patriarch rat bolted at a side hole near pepper, who strikes at it, misses taking a proper hold and gets it too far back, and the next moment the blood is pouring from a bite above his eye; but the rat is dead, and pepper but little the worse. i thought it was too late in the year for young ones, but it was not, for at the next hole we came to the ferret got into a nest, killed a lot of young ones and "laid up," and, as i had not a box-trap with me, i had to dig it out. this took some time, as i lost the hole, and jack, whilst down grubbing with his hands, broke into a wrong one in which the old rat was ready for him, and at once bit him through the end of his finger. jack sucked it well and did not mind, but i did not much like the appearance of things, for in half-an-hour i had had a ferret laid up, and a dog and a boy bitten badly by rats, and these bites are often very poisonous. fortunately this time jack took no harm and was soon well. as soon as jack pulled his hand out of the rat's hole, pincher put his long nose in, and all was over in a minute. soon after i came on the ferret curled up in a nest of young rats, all minus their heads; and so that ferret, from being gorged with food, was no more good for work, and had to be put away with the bitten one. after this we got on much faster; the holes were close together, and even with the greatest care lots of rats bolted and went forward, but i would not allow the dogs to disturb fresh ground by following them. some went back, and pepper and wasp had a good time, for i let them follow and work them alone, having stopped all back holes after ferreting them. now and then, jack and i had to go back, as there was an old pollard tree covered with ivy, and many of the rats got up that, and pincher had to be lifted up into the crown to displace them, and then when they jumped down, three or four at a time, there was a grand scrimmage. when we had got twenty yards or so from the gateway, grindum went forward and stood there and killed a dozen rats that tried to pass, and a lot more went into the pipe under the roadway. these we left alone, only after we had passed we stopped up the open end and opened the shut one, so that in future rats going back might wait quietly in the arch till we were ready for them. by the time we had got as far as the gate it was just noon, so we called the dogs back to a tree we had passed, and then jack and i sat down and paid attention to the game bag, which was well provided with cold meat and bread and cheese and a bottle of beer. i am not a good hand at picnics and never was. i mean those big gatherings with ladies, lobster salad, hot dishes, plates, knives, spoons, champagne, etc. i find the round world was created a little too low down to sit upon with comfort; my knees don't make a good table; flies get into my beer and hopping things into my plate. i have to get up and hand eatables about; things bite me, and more creep about me, and it does not look well to scratch. the hostess looks anxious about her glass and plate; someone has forgotten the salt, and some one else the corkscrew. the host, be he ever so sad, _makes_ fun, and made fun is magnified misery to me. no, i don't like picnics; i would rather be at home and feed upon a table; and yet a snack at noon-day, after hard work, sitting under a tree, with your hands as plates, with a good "shut-knife," a silent companion and the dogs all round you, _is_ pleasant. double gloucester then equals stilton, and bottled beer nectar; and then the pipe in quiet, while jack takes the dogs, after they have finished the scraps, to the pond to drink. talk of havanas! well, talk of them, but give me that pipe as i loll, half asleep, resting against the tree, my legs spread out, and my hat tipped over my nose. i half close my eyes and go nearly to sleep, but keep pulling at the pipe, and half unconsciously hear the leaves whispering above, the insects humming, the stubble rustling, the trembling of a thrashing machine, and the rush of a train in the far distance. jack returns from the pond, throws himself on the ground on his face, kicks his legs in the air and whistles softly, with the gentle grindum blinking beside him. chance and tinker lie out full length on their sides and go to sleep. wasp stretches on the ground, with her legs out behind her, and drags herself about with her front feet. pepper sits down, scratches his ear, and then dashes at a passing bumble bee, and all becomes a pleasant jumble of sights and sounds; but, with a start, i recover myself, drop my pipe, topple my hat off and lose my temper, for that everlastingly restless, volatile, good-for-nothing, ramshackly beast, pepper, has been and licked me all up the side of the face! the dream, the quiet, the rest is all broken, so, jumping up, i tip my pipe out on the heel of my boot, give a stretch, grasp the spade, and off we go to finish our job. for three hours we work our way on, and a line of dead rats on the headland marks our progress, till at last we reach the bottom of the field and our bank is done. pepper has got three more bites, another ferret is done for by a nip on the nose, and jack has torn his trousers and is very dirty; but there is yet the drain pipe under the gate to attend to, and it is getting on in the day. i cut three or four long sticks and tie them tightly together, and then to the end of this fasten a good hard bunch of grass, and back we go to the drain. i go to one end with grindum and pincher, whilst jack takes the sticks, pepper and wasp to the other end, and gently and slowly shoves the sticks through. two venturesome rats bolt at my end and are killed. when the sticks appear i grasp them and gradually draw the whisp of grass into the drain. it fits tight and takes some pulling, but it comes steadily along, wiping all before it. faster and faster the rats bolt and are killed, and even old chance, who began by watching us, gets excited and joins the sport. pepper and wasp dash in for a last worry, which is over in a few minutes, when twenty-four rats are cast by jack up on to the bank. well done, dogs! well done, good dogs! woo-hoop, woo-hoop! good dogs! that's the way, my boys! woo-hoop! woo-hoop! and the dogs roll on the ground, stretch, wipe the dirt out of their eyes with their paws, and rub their faces in the grass. jack goes backwards and forwards and collects the spoil, and we count up seventy-three real beauties, a few of which i really think should be fourpenny beasts, they are so big. never mind, seventy-three rats at twopence each comes to twelve and twopence--not such a bad day's work; and, jack, you shall have a hot supper to-night; and oh, you dogs, you dogs, think of the supper i will give you! bones with lots of meat on, oatmeal and such soup! think of it, dogs! think of it! and so the work ends, and all are happy and contented. three miles down turning twisting lanes to reach home, grindum and i first, then jack, and the rear brought up by the long and now a little drooping tail of tinker. all have had enough; even the volatile young pepper trots slowly, and therefore looks ever so much more business-like. before we start the shades are falling, and as we trudge along nature's evening vespers speak of the closing day. workmen sitting sideways on quiet harnessed cart-horses stump past with a friendly "good night, neighbour, good night!" women with children in "go-carts" bustle past in a hurry to get home and fetch up the supper. farm horses are drinking in the pond or browsing on the rank grass at the side; sparrows are chattering in the old alder bush before going to bed in the ivy on the church; pigs in the homestead are calling for their supper; the cows pass us coming home to be milked; rooks fly steadily to the old elm trees near the manor; and a robin pipes clear and shrill on the roof of the shed in the cottage garden. there are partridges calling out "cheap wheat" in the stubble, and pewits crying on the meadows. cock pheasants noisily flutter up to roost in the firs, and the old doctor standing at his door makes soft music with his violin. the parson joins us and has a cheery word for all, especially the dogs, who are all his personal friends; and so we jog on and reach the village, where the wood smoke rises straight in a blue cloud from the cottage chimneys, and the fire light sends a ruddy gleam across the roads. groups of men and boys stand about resting, little children race and play, and oh, such a delicious whiff of something stewing, with a little bit of onion in it, comes from the open door of the village ale-house! and this reminds us all that our suppers are near, and we finish the evening's walk quite briskly. no need to say, "kennel, dogs, kennel!" all go in of their own accord, and in five minutes are busy at their savoury-smelling _hot_ supper. the ferrets are fed and locked up, and then, unlacing our boots at the back door and kicking them off, the day is done. supper, rest and quiet, a pipe, a book, bed and happy dreams are all before us. "now, croker, minor, you will go to the doctor's study before school to-morrow. you have been most inattentive, and it is not the first time i have had occasion to speak to you. you can go now, but don't forget that this is tub night, as you all have done on the last four occasions. if i have further complaints on this head from the matron, i shall take you all out for a long day's rat-catching, so i advise you all to be very careful." five minutes later this master is smoking in his room and says to another master who is doing the same, "i say, potts, do you know i think these new lessons on rat-catching are all very well, but i think they are beyond the capacity of schoolboys. why, they strain _my_ mind, and i think they should only be taken up at the universities and during the last term; and then the boys do so hate them," etc. chapter v. "croker, minor, have you been up to the head-master? yes? then sit still and don't fidget. boys, pick up your books on rat-catching, and we will resume yesterday's task." the last chapter treats of a prime day's rat-catching, where rats were numerous and known to be numerous; but don't suppose all days are like this, for if you do you will be sadly disappointed, and you will have a lot to learn, for there are days, and very pleasant days too, when you will have to walk mile after mile to find a rat, and even then not be successful; but you will be out of doors in the fresh air, with devoted companions and something fresh to see at every step, if you keep your eyes open. don't get disheartened, and above all things never say, "oh, it is no good looking here or looking there for a rat; there is sure not to be one. come on and don't waste time." you often find them in the most unexpected places. i once went three times to the house of an old lady, being sent for because there was a rat that came each night and took her hen's eggs and carried off young ducks and chickens. i spent hours looking for it in hedges, ditches, sheds, out-houses and stable, and even put tinker up on the roof of all the buildings, thinking the assassin might be under the tiles; but it was no go. night after night the plunderer came, and i began to see that the old lady did not think much of me. at last, one afternoon, i called again and began operations by asking to have a dog that was tied up to a kennel in a back yard led away, as his barking disturbed my dogs. this was done, and a minute afterwards chance was sidling round the kennel, staking her reputation upon the rat being under it. i got out a ferret and looked round the kennel, and was utterly disgusted to find it was placed firmly on hard ground without a vestige of a hole. i am sorry to say i went so far as to sneer at chance and tell her she did not know the difference between a dog and a rat. she herself for a moment seemed in doubt, but the next she went _inside_ the kennel and stood at a hole in the plank floor. i put the ferret back in the bag and, taking hold of the kennel, tilted it up, and in an instant the dogs had a vicious-looking old monster dead. now the only possible way that rat could have got in and out of his house was by passing the dog as he slept, and yet the old lady and her gardener assured me that the dog was as keen as mustard after rats. i once killed a rat inside a church. i found it during a long sermon, but for the life of me i can't remember what that sermon was about. i was sitting in a seat opposite about a score of village school children, and suddenly i was struck by their appearance, and the thought passed through my mind, "how like humans are to dogs! why, those children look just like my dogs when they find a rat, especially that flaxen-haired girl with a front tooth out." then i noticed that they were all looking in one direction, and so i looked there too and saw a rat sitting with just its nose out of a hole which ran under the brick floor, apparently listening to the sermon. the next morning the parson and i went to the church. i took one ferret and only tinker. i chose tinker because he was black and rather clerical looking. the rat was at home, and we had it in five minutes. this was one of the few times i ever did rat-catching with my hat off, and it felt very queer. again, i once killed a mother rat and a lot of young ones which i found in the stuffing of a spring sofa in a spare bedroom at an old manor-house. there were rats in the walls, and "mary ann" had often seen a rat in the room when she went in to dust, and it had given her "such a turn." this time i took all the dogs with me, and we were followed by the lady of the house, four dreadfully pretty daughters and "mary ann." madam and mary ann got on the sofa, standing, and the four daughters stood on four chairs round the room. all six clasped their clothes tight round their ankles--why, i never could think. this was the only time in her life that i ever found chance a fool. directly she got into the room, she wriggled and twisted, turned her head this way and that, threw herself on her back and fairly grovelled. wasp, pepper, and the long-tailed tinker were nearly as bad, and it was plain to see they were shy and bashful in such a gorgeous room and surrounded by such a galaxy of beauty. it was the soft-hearted grindum who saved us; he blinked much, but directly i said, "hie round, dogs! hunt him up! search him out!" he went to work--up on the bed, round the room, behind the furniture, and at last began sniffing round the sofa. i got hot all over, for i thought he was mistaking an aristocratic lady and her hand-maid for rats; but no, at last he went under the sofa, and turning over on his back began to scratch at the underside of it up above him. madam and mary ann jumped off, and the latter felt another "turn"; then both took refuge on chairs and again clasped their clothes tight round them. i turned the sofa up on its back, and there through the sacking near a leg i found a nice round hole into the interior among the springs. i put a ferret in, and in a minute there was a rush and scuffle, the sofa seemed alive, and then three or four small rats bolted out and were accounted for; another squeak and rush, and out came the mother and was quickly dispatched; then, as the ferret did not come out, i ripped the sacking and found it eating a deliciously tender young rat. i bagged the ferret, and while i did so, grindum killed three or four small ones. i afterwards found that the rats had eaten through the wainscot and so got into the room. the rest of the afternoon was spent in turning over all sorts of furniture, including beds, and hunting through each room with the dogs; but we found no more rats as inside lodgers. three or four months after this episode, rats swarmed in the walls of this same house and behind the wainscoting, and my professional services were called in to get rid of them. how they got into the house i never discovered, for there were no holes from the outside, and no creepers on the walls for them to mount by and get on to the roof; the drains did not appear to communicate with the inside of the house, and all the doors fitted tight. equally puzzling was it, now that they were inside, to get them out, for i dare not put ferrets in, for fear they should kill a rat and leave it to decay and smell for months. i tried various plans. i got a live rat, tied a ferret's bell on it, and turned it loose, and for days after it was constantly heard tinkling inside the walls; but it did not drive the rats away. i singed the coat of a rat, put tar on the feet of another and turned them loose; but it was no good. at last i took possession of a wood-house in a cellar down in the basement, from which a short passage led to other cellars, and in the walls of these there were many open holes. first of all i went carefully over the wood cellar and made sure there were no holes in it; and then, putting in a few faggots to give shelter to any nervous young rat, i started each night to feed them with delicious balls of barley-meal, which were made up with scraps. in this way i gave a rats' supper-party each night for three weeks, and each morning i found clean-swept dishes. at last the fatal day arrived. a string was tied to the handle of the door leading up into the kitchen, the food was placed in the dishes as usual about ten p.m., and all the household, except myself, went to bed. i sat over the kitchen fire reading my paper till a distant clock struck midnight, and then i gave a sharp pull to the string and heard the door bang to and the fastening fall, and i knew i had them. i lit a big glass lantern, went round to the stables and let out all the dogs, took them to the cellar window and slipt them through quickly, squeezing myself through after them and shutting the window again. in half no time fifty rats were killed, and all the dogs, except tinker, pretty badly bitten; but they were used to that and did not care. then i locked the back door behind me, taking the key home to bring back in the morning when i called to be paid eight and fourpence for my night's work. three times in the next three months i went through a similar performance, and the first time i killed twenty-eight rats, the second seven, and the third time only two, and these were old bachelors. then every hole in the walls was filled up with a cement made up with broken glass, and i have never heard of a rat in that house since. before i forget it, let me tell you that if a rat dies in the wall, or under the floor of a house where it can't be got at, its whereabouts can be discovered in this way, provided the weather is warm. take a butterfly net over to the butchers shop, and there catch a dozen bluebottle flies, and, taking care not to hurt them, slip them into a glass jar and tie a rag over it. return to the room where the smell is, and, shutting the door after you, let your pack of flies loose and sit down to watch them, and in half-an-hour you will find they are all buzzing round one spot. have this spot opened out, be it wall or floor, and there the dead rat will be found. has the bell rung? yes, half a minute! put your books away, form two and two outside, and i will take you for our usual walk. we will resume this task in the morning. croker, minor, the top part of jones' leg was not made to stick pins into. if i see you do it again, i shall give you a rat to catch, so be careful! chapter vi. i trust that, in the five chapters i have written, i have said enough to give some of my scholars a slight taste and liking for the profession i am advocating, and in some small degree have weaned their young affections from such pernicious pastimes as studying classical authors, doing sums, and cutting their names on their desks. if i have not done this i have written to little purpose, and i fear the next chapter will damp off a few who have only followed me and my dogs on fine days in pleasant paths; but i may as well tell you at once that life is no more all beer and skittles in rat-catching than it is in such minor professions as the army, the church, the bar, school-keeping, etc.; and just to see if you are "real grit," boys, i will show you another picture. jack, get the ferrets while i let the dogs out. we _must_ go and see if we can find a few rats, for it is a week since the ferrets had flesh, and we shall have them getting ill; and, jack, bring four in the little bag, and put that inside your game-bag, for it looks like rain, and i don't like to see them half-drowned. yes, it does look like rain, though as yet it is only a dull, misty, chilly day in mid-november down here in the country, but in london it is a thick black fog, and all work is being done by gaslight. it is bad and depressing here, but ever so much worse there; so cheer up, dogs, and step out, jack. we will go down by the beck and home by the clay-pits, for i know of no other place near where we are so likely to find a few rats, and i don't want to make a long day of it. go over the bridge, jack. you take that side with chance and a young one, and i will do this side with the other dogs. hie in, dogs! search him out, lads! and on we go, but in two miles we only kill a water-hen that pepper catches as it rises out of some sedges, and which goes into my bag to replenish the ferrets' larder. the mist hangs low, the bushes are wet, the ground soft, and there is a dreary sigh in the wind. the cattle are eating fast, as they always do before rain; and the sheep, startled by the sight of the dogs, caper and jump as they gallop all down the meadow; and again their playfulness warns me of a wet tramp home. some young colts stand at the door of an open shed, dull and depressed looking, and the horses ploughing on the sides of the hill send up a thick steam. no birds twitter or sing, no insects hum, distant sounds are muffled and indistinct. the teams in the waggons on the road hard by creep along and take little notice beyond a toss of the head at the carter's whip as he walks beside them with a heavy step cracking it. the only brisk thing to be seen is the doctor's gig as it whisks past. "hie up, dogs! shake yourselves and don't go to sleep! come over, jack; i have had enough of this brook; and if we don't find at the clay-pits, home we go." and we trudge off to some ponds half a mile further away. they are well-known to both men and dogs, and the latter bolt on ahead and arrive first; and when we come up we find them all clustered round a hole in a high bank 'midst thick dripping bushes. in goes a ferret, but not in the way i like to see. there is no hurry, no ecstatic wriggle of the tail as it slowly draws itself into the hole. then all stand round expecting to see a rat take a header into the pond; but no, five minutes pass, and pepper begins to move, and is told to "stand." ten minutes pass, and jack gets restless. fifteen minutes, and i begin to shift my feet, which are planted deep in sticky mud by the side of the pond, and just then the first drops of rain appear. ah, there is the ferret! jump up and get it, jack. but before he can do so, it has drawn itself into the hole backwards, which means that it has killed a rat inside and that it only came out to tell us so, and that it was going back to have a good long sound sleep curled up by the rat's warm body. there is nothing for it but to dig it out; and oh, what a dig, all among roots and thorns on the sloping sides of the pond, in thick sticky clay, with the rain coming down in a steady pour! jack hunches his back and leans against a tree, pepper and wasp wander away down a ditch and scratch for an hour at a drain that has a rabbit in it, and the old dogs sit and watch me and drip and shiver. i dig here, i dig there; i slip and fall on the bank; the water mixed with yellow clay runs up my arm from the spade, and yet that beastly ferret sleeps peacefully in its warm bed. i lose the hole, come down on roots as thick as my leg and stones that strike fire as the spade strikes them; and so two hours of discomfort to all drift by, and i am just feeling about for the last time with the spike end of the spade, when i again hit off the hole and, opening it out, come upon a nice warm rat's nest made of leaves, with the ferret curled up snugly with a dead rat. "home, dogs, home! cheer up, jack! cold are you, and wet? well, never mind; only two miles, and we will walk fast. pepper, pepper, wasp, wasp, where on earth have you got to? ah, there you are, and a nice mess you have made of yourselves trying to scratch out a hole five hundred yards long. come along all!" and off we tramp, jack and i in the middle of the road, splish splash at every step, the water squirting high up our gaitered legs, and the dogs, with drooping tails, dripping coats and woe-begone looks, coming along behind us in indian file close under the shelter, such as it is, of the hedge. we pass the postman, who only nods, and meet a flock of sheep all draggled and dirty. an empty cart with a sack over the seat stands at the pot-house, and pigs wander listlessly about the yard with their backs arched up. under the waggon-shed some cocks and hens stand each on one leg, with their tails drooping, apparently too disgusted to prune their feathers and fly up to roost in the rafters. the smoke beats down from the chimneys and gets lost in the wind and rain which buffets and pelts at our back. cold spots begin to be felt at the bend of our arms and knees; then a shiver runs down the back, which developes into a trickle of water that at last gets into our boots and goes squish, squish, at every step, and at last oozes over the tops; and our teeth chatter with cold, for now here and there among the rain-drops appear a few flakes of snow, which rest on the mud of the road for a second, and then melting, add to the deep slush that trickles down the hill by our side. at every open shed the dogs shelter a minute, shake themselves like dripping mops, and with arched backs stand on three legs and shiver; but we whistle them on and at last reach home. after throwing a good bundle of dry straw on the kennel benches and feeding dogs and ferrets, jack and i get under shelter and soon find ourselves in dry clothes before a good fire, feeling a little swollen and stiff about our faces and hands, and much inclined for forty winks. the wind howls in the chimney, lashes the bare branches of the trees, rattles the window frames, and appears angry that it cannot get at us, and the rain drives in fitful gusts against the windows, and hisses in the big wood fire on the hearth; and as i sit in my snug arm-chair, i dimly feel that the external storm adds greatly to the internal comfort, and then i fancy i nod off to sleep, for i think no more till supper is announced, and hunger and my wife stir me up to consciousness again. having finished a good supper and got my pipe drawing beautifully, i remember one or two things that i think the student should be told. the first is, never put a line on a ferret when _ratting_. it hampers a ferret in a narrow, twisting, turning rat's hole, and cutting into the soft earth at the turns soon brings the ferret to a dead stop. then rats' holes are chiefly in hedge-banks, which are full of roots, and the line is pretty sure to get twisted round some of these, and then it will be a long dig to free it. remember, too, a ferret has to go down the hole and face a beast nearly as big as itself, with teeth like lancets and with courage to use them, and so should be as free as possible; and lining a ferret is about equal to setting a student with the gloves on to fight against another without them. then some way back i mentioned ferrets' bells. they are little hollow brass balls with an iron shot in them that make a pretty tinkling sound, and are supposed to be tied round the ferret's neck. in my opinion, if you put a bell on it, you may as well put the ferret in the bag and keep it there. the theory about bells is, that a ferret running down a hole jingling its bell will fill a rat with fear and make it bolt, but this is all nonsense; rats are not so easily frightened. again, it is said that if a ferret comes out of a hole in a thick hedge unseen, the bell will let you know where it is; but i must say i never lost a ferret in a hedge or felt the want of a belled one. i consider a bell a useless dead weight on a ferret, and the cord that goes round its neck to fasten it is apt to get hitched on to a root and hold the ferret a prisoner. a bell is only good for a sharp shopman to sell to a flat. i need hardly say, never muzzle a ferret when rat-catching. it would be brutal not to let the ferret have the use of its teeth to protect itself with. muzzling ferrets appertains solely to rabbiting, but it is useful to know how to do it. take a piece of twine a foot long, double it, and tie a loop at the double. tie the string round the ferret's neck, with the loop on the top; bring the two ends down under the chin and tie them together there; pass them over the nose and tie them there, shutting the mouth tight; pass _one_ string along the nose, between the eyes, through the loop on the top of the neck, and bending it back, tie it to the other loose string from the knot on the top of the nose. cut the ends off, and, provided you have not made a lot of "granny" knots, your muzzle will keep on all day. there are other ways of doing the trick, such as passing the string behind the ferret's dogteeth, bring it under the jaw, then over the nose, on the top of the neck; tie it there and again under the neck. i hate this plan, and have seen a ferret's mouth badly cut by the string. i have heard of another plan which is too brutal to mention. cut the muzzle off directly you have done with it, for i don't suppose a ferret likes having its mouth tied up any more than you or i should. never wantonly hurt any animal, especially those that work for you and suffer in your service. just think of the amount of pluck a ferret shows each time you put it into a rat's hole. fancy yourself in its place, going down a lot of dark crooked passages that you don't know, only just wide enough to allow you to pass, and have to face a beast somewhat like yourself and as big, that you know will attack you. why, if ferrets got v.c.'s, they would, on high days and holidays when they wished to display them all, have to employ a string of sandwich-men walking behind them with the boards covered with v.c. three or four times in my life i have had ferrets die of the wounds they have received from rats. i have had them in hospital for weeks, and i have had them blinded. speaking of blind ferrets, i am not much of an oculist, but i don't believe a ferret can see in the dark. i never could find any difference between the way my blind ferret worked in a hole and that of one with good eyes; in fact, my blind ferret was as good a little beast as ever killed a rat, and she did kill many a score after she lost both eyes. i believe a ferret when in a hole uses a sense we don't possess--i mean the sense of touch with the long nose whiskers. some years ago the _field_ opened its pages to a long discussion on the subject of ferrets sucking the blood of their victims after they have killed them. writers pretending to know all about it said they did do so. these men are to be pitied, not laughed at, for you see in the days of their youth "rat-catching for the use of schools" was not written, and therefore they had not learnt better. a ferret no more sucks the blood of the things it kills than a dog does. if you doubt this, give a fresh-killed rat to a ferret, let it fasten on it, and then peep at the corners of its mouth, and you will find an opening there into the mouth, out of which blood would flow if the ferret had it in its mouth; and look down its throat, you will not find blood in it, nor will there be blood on the portion of the rat that has been held in its mouth. no, people are misled by a ferret sending its teeth deep home in the flesh and making a sucking sound as it with difficulty breathes through its nose and the corners of its mouth. if you watch a ferret after it has killed a rat, it will, as soon as it is sure the rat is dead, begin chewing at the skin of the head or throat till it has made an entrance, and will then eat the flesh. to finish this chapter, i will tell you a story which you are never to put into practice. some long time ago i found myself far from home in a country village, and having nothing to do, i went for a walk, and soon came upon a brother professional rat-catcher; and thinking i might learn a wrinkle from him that would come in useful, i joined him and carefully watched him and his dogs. i saw at once that three of the latter were very good and up to their work; but there was a fourth, a nondescript sort of beast with a long tail, that appeared quite useless; and i observed with amusement that directly the man put a ferret into a hole, the dog tucked its tail tight between its legs and went and stood well out in the field. i asked the man why he kept such a useless beast, and with a chuckle he answered, "well, mate, i'll own up he ain't much to boast on for rat-killing, nor yet for looks, but he has his use like some other of we h-ugly ones. you see, sir, i've got one or two ferrets as won't come out of a 'ole, but stand a peeping at the h-entrance and waste a lot of time. then that 'ere dawg comes in useful. i catches him, lifts him up, and sticks his bushy tail down to the ferret, who catches tight hold, and i draws it out. nothing ain't made for nothing, and i expect that dawg was made for drawing ferrets." the man may have been right, but i was quite sure the unfortunate dog did not take an active pleasure in his vocation. there, young gentlemen, if you have well digested that chapter and forgotten the story at the end, you can put up your books and form up for your usual walk to the second milestone and back again; but before leaving, let me point out to you, croker, minor, that if that caricature i have observed you drawing behind your book is meant for _me_, it is, like most things you do, incorrect; my nose is not so long, and i part my hair on the left side, not the right. chapter vii. rat-catching and rabbit-catching are two distinct professions, but the greater part of the stock-in-trade that serves for one will answer for the other, and it is as well for the professional to be master of what i think i may call both branches of his business. a rat-catcher who did nothing but kill rats and refused a day's work with the rabbits would be like a medical man who would cut off limbs but would not give a pill, or a captain of a sailing-vessel who would not go to sea in a steamer; besides in these days it is the fashion to jumble up half a dozen businesses under one head and name. just look at what the engineer does. why, he is nowhere if he is not (besides being ready, as the engineer of the old school, to make railways, etc.) a chemist, an electrician, a diplomat, a lawyer, a financier and a contractor, and even sometimes an honest man. if you are not in the fashion you are left behind as an old fogey, and so in this chapter we will discuss the art of rabbit-catching; and i trust all schoolmasters will furnish you, their students, with the opportunity of putting in practice in the field what you learn from this book at your desks. well, now for the requirements. we have got the dogs, we have got the ferrets, spade, bag, etc.; but for rabbiting we must have a much more costly stock-in-trade if we are to do a big business. we shall require an ordinary gardener's spade for digging in soft sandy ground, where the rabbit burrows sometimes go in for yards, and as much as ten feet deep down; also another spade, longer in the blade than our ratting one, the sides more turned in, and with a handle ten feet long, with a steel hook at the end instead of a spike. with this spade we can sink down many feet after the hole is too deep for the ordinary spade, and the turned in sides will hold the soft earth and allow you to bring it to the surface. if you dig down on the top of a rabbit--as you will do when you know your work--the hook at the end will enable you to draw first it and then the ferret up by the string. we must have a piece of strong light supple cord, marked by a piece of red cloth drawn through the strands at every yard, so that one can tell exactly how far in the ferret is; and it is as well to have a second shorter cord for work in stiff heavy ground, where the holes are never deep. next, we must have two or three dozen purse-nets, which are circular, about two feet in diameter, with a string rove round the outside mesh fastened to a peg. these are for covering over bolt holes to bag a rabbit when driven out by the ferrets. the nets should be made of the very best string, so as to be as light and fine as possible. the mesh should be just large enough to allow a rabbit's head to pass through. like the postscript to a lady's letter, the chief item i have saved till the last, and i fear it will be some time before the ordinary rabbit-catcher will be able to afford it. i refer to long nets, which are used for running round or across a piece of covert to catch the rabbits as they are bustled about by the dogs. a rabbit-catcher in full swing should have from eight hundred to a thousand yards of this, for with a good long net he will often kill as many rabbits in a few hours as he could do with the ferrets in a week. i myself keep no special dog for rabbit-catching, chiefly because i have a neighbour who will always let me have a cunning old lurcher that he keeps, which is as good as gold, and as clever as a lawyer, and desperately fond of a day with me and my dogs. i have three male ferrets, real monsters, strong enough to trot down a burrow and drag five or six yards of line after them with ease. having described all the tools, etc., necessary for work, i will now jot down, as an exercise for you students, a nice easy day's rabbiting that actually took place a few weeks ago--a sort of day that quite a young beginner might work with success. there had been a sharp rime frost in the night, which still hung about in shady spots at eight o'clock in the morning, as jack and i marched off with my dogs and ferrets, accompanied by old fly, the lurcher. by nine a.m. we began working field hedge-rows and banks, where rabbits were pretty plentiful and had been established for years in every description of burrow. there had been a lot of partridge and other shooting going on over this farm for the last month, and most of the rabbits had got a dislike to sitting out in the open, and were under ground, so we began at the burrows at once, the dogs driving every rabbit that was sitting out in the hedge back to their burrows as we walked along. we began work in a stiff clay bank far too hard for the rabbits to make deep holes in, and here we got on fast. i took the ditch side--in fact, i took the ditch itself--with a big ferret with a short line on, and i ran it into each hole i came to. jack on the other side looked out for the bolt holes, and always laid down a little to one side, as much as possible out of sight, but with a hand just on the bank over the hole ready to catch a bolting rabbit. fly and the other dogs took charge of the other holes, and all kept as quiet as possible. in went the ferret, slowly dragging the line after him till i count two yards gone by the red marks on the line; then there is a halt for half a minute, then a loud rumbling and the line is pulled fast through my fingers. jack moves quickly, and the next instant a rabbit is thrown a little way out into the field with its neck broken. jack says, "ferret out," then picks it up, draws the line through the hole, passes the ferret over to me, and we go on to the next, having filled up the entrance of the hole we have just worked. hole after hole was ferreted much in the same way. sometimes jack bagged the bolting rabbit, sometimes the dogs, and now and then one bolted and got into the hedge before it could be caught and went back, but it was little use, for the dogs with fly at their head were soon after it, and in a few minutes fly was sure to have it, and would retrieve it back to jack. as we worked round a big field, we got into softer ground, a red sand and soil mixed; and here the holes were much deeper and often ran through the bank and out for yards under ground into the next field. here jack and i changed places, jack doing the ferreting, and i going to his side with the garden spade. one, two, three, four, five yards the ferret went and stopped, and all was quiet. i listen, but not a sound. jack pulls gently on the line and finds it tight, and for a minute we wait, hoping a rabbit may bolt from the hole the ferret went in at. but no such luck. i take the small ratting-spade, and with the spike end feel into the ground at the foot of the bank, and at once come upon the hole; this i open out and clear of earth, and jack, who has crept through the hedge, kneels down and finds the line passing this hole in the direction of the field and going downwards. at that moment there is a sound like very distant thunder, and the line is pulled quickly four yards further into the hole, and the marks show six yards are in. i go about this distance out into the field, lie down and place my ear close to the ground. i shift about in all directions listening intently, and at last hear a faint thudding sound. i shift again a few inches in this direction, and lose it; in that, and recover it; again a few inches, and the sound is directly under my head, but pretty deep down. i take the big spade and open out a hole a yard square, and dig down as far as i can reach. i get into the hole and sink deeper. i have to enlarge it a foot all round to get room, and then i dig down again till only my head appears above ground when i stand up. then i take the long spade, and with that sink two more feet, and plump i come on the top of the hole, and the ferret shoves a sand-covered head up and looks at me. i reverse the long spade and catch the line with the hook and pull the ferret up, and then calling jack, i send him head first into the well-like pit, holding on to one of his feet myself as i lie flat on the ground to allow him to go deep enough. in a minute a dead rabbit is taken out and two live ones, whose necks jack breaks as he hangs suspended, and then i pull him up with his plunder, and he rights himself on the surface, very red in the face, very sandy, spluttering and rubbing his eyes. then the ferret is swung down again by the line, it goes a little way into the hole and returns, and so we know we have made a clean sweep. the big hole is filled up and stamped down, and after filling a pipe and resting a few minutes, on we go with our work. on the high sandy part of the field we have several deep digs like the above, with varying success, and we rejoice when we reach the last side of the field and get into clay again, where holes are short and most of the rabbits bolt at once. during all the day we only stopped once for half-an-hour to get a snack of bread and cheese, and by the time the cock partridges began to call their families together for roost, and the teams in the next field to knock off ploughing, we are all, man, boy, dogs and ferrets, fairly tired, and are glad to tumble seventeen couple of rabbits into the keeper's cart that has been sent out for them, and trudge off home ourselves. now for another day's sport that was quite different. no dogs with us, only a bag of ready-muzzled ferrets, a bundle of purse nets and a spade. success will depend on perfect quiet, and even the patter of the dogs' feet would spoil our sport, so they are at home for once, and jack and i are alone. it is one of those soft mild dull days that now and then appear in mid-winter, a sort of day to gladden the heart of foxhunters and doctors, and to make wiseacres shake their heads and say "most unseasonable." it is a good day for jack and me, and we feel confident as we steal into a plantation of tall spruce firs, placed so thick on the ground that beneath them is perpetual twilight, and not a blade of grass or bramble to hide the thick carpet of needle points. softly we creep forward to a lot of burrows we know of in the corner of the wood, and then i go forward alone and spread a net loosely over every hole, firmly pegging it down by the cord. this done i stand quietly down-wind of the holes, and jack comes and slips the six ferrets all into different holes, and then crouches down on his knees. all is quiet; only the whisperings of the tree-tops, the occasional chirp of a bird, or the rustle of a mouse in the dead leaves. five minutes pass, and then out dashes a rabbit into a net, which draws up round it. jack moves forward on tip-toe, kills the rabbit and takes it out of the net, and covers the hole again. while he is doing this, three more rabbits have bolted and got netted, one has escaped, and a ferret has come out. the captured ones are killed, the ferret sent into another hole, and for an hour this work goes on, and during all the time neither of us have spoken, for we know there is nothing that scares wild animals more than the human voice, unless it is the jingle of metals, such as a bunch of keys rattling. they dread the human voice because they have had too much experience of it, and the rattle of metal because they have not had experience enough of it, for it is a sound they have never heard, and nothing like, in the quiet woods and fields. on the other hand, animals pay but little attention to a whistle, for in one shape or another they are constantly hearing it from their feathered companions. but to go back to our netting. an hour over, we pick up the ferrets as they come out and bag them, and then i go off to some fresh holes and spread the nets again, and we repeat the same performance; and during the day we kill, without any digging or hard work, about twenty-two couple of rabbits. in the above account i have written of a day's sport that took place in a fir plantation in a little village in norfolk, where it would have been madness to work the ferrets without muzzling them, for they would have been sure to kill some rabbits in the holes and then have laid up; but i should mention that i have killed many rabbits in the same way on the cotswold hills in gloucestershire, and i was much astonished when i first got there to find men who thoroughly understood their business working their ferrets under nets without muzzling them. i adopted the plan myself, and have rarely had a ferret kill a rabbit underground. for some reason that i could never find out, a cotswold rabbit will always bolt from a hole with a ferret in if it can. it is well known in norfolk that if a rabbit is run into a hole by dogs, you may ferret it if you like, but it will never bolt, and it must be dug out. but in gloucestershire i have seen the same rabbit bolt out of a hole, get shot at, be run by dogs, go to ground, and again bolt at once from a ferret. few professionals ever use a line on a ferret on the cotswold, one reason being that the burrows are nearly all in rocky ground, and there would be danger of the line being caught in the numerous cracks; besides it is not required, for a rabbit there is sure to bolt, and for this reason it is twice as easy to kill rabbits in gloucestershire as it is in norfolk, especially in the sandy or soft soil of the latter county. let me here beg of all my readers, especially students, never to keep a poor rabbit alive in their hands a second. i don't suppose any who read this book could be so unsportsmanlike and brutal as to keep a rabbit alive to course and torture over again with dogs, or for the fun of shooting at the poor little beast. such ruffians should never be allowed a day's sport on a _gentleman's_ property. they are only fit to go out mole-catching. no, directly you have a live rabbit in your hand, take it by its hind legs with your right hand, and the head with your left, with two fingers under its face; with these fingers turn the head back, and give the rabbit a smart quick stretch, and in an instant all its sufferings are over. never hit it with your hand or a stick behind the ears: first, because you are not quite sure to kill it with the first blow; and secondly, if you do, half the blood in the rabbit will settle in a great bruise at the spot where it was struck, and make that portion unfit for table. that is sufficient for this morning, and you may now turn to a little lighter work with some algebra. chapter viii. fortunately i don't live by the sea. i say fortunately, because i look upon the sea as a swindler, for it robs one of just half one's little world and upsets all calculations by forcing one to live in a mean semicircle. i actually know a rat-catcher who is stupid enough to live in a village on the east coast, and half his time he and his dogs are at home in idleness and are half starved, because the ever-restless tiresome sea rolls about and disports itself over all that is east of the village, so the poor man can only go rat-catching in one direction. now and then i go to the sea-side, but when i go there it is on business--not in my sunday clothes and with a "tripper's" return ticket, but with my dogs, ferrets, nets (the long ones) and the boy jack; he and i dressed in our well-worn corduroys, gaiters, and navvy boots; and instead of choosing a town to visit with marine parade, esplanades, lodgings to let, brass bands, nigger minstrels and spouting m.p.'s, we go to a little village unknown to "trippers," and put up at a small inn for a week or ten days. we sleep in a room not unlike a hay-loft, and take our meals and rest in the common kitchen, with its rattling latticed windows and sanded floor. we go there twice each winter to kill rabbits on what are called the "denes," which are great, wide, down-like lands on the top of the steep earth cliff, partially covered with the ever-flowering gorse, a cover dear to rabbits and all sorts of game. we reach the inn in time for an early dinner; and after we have housed the ferrets in a big tub and the dogs in a warm dry shed with heaps of straw to sleep on, jack and i despatch our food and then start off to inspect the field of our future operations. we have not far to go. first down the street, past two or three dozen flint-pebble cottages; past the church, with its square tower so high that it makes the really big church look small in proportion; past the rectory; past the schools, where some forty or fifty future fishermen and sailors have just finished their tasks for the day and come rolling out, dressed all alike in dark, sea-stained, canvas trousers and thick sailor jerseys; past the low one-storied cottage where the old retired naval captain has lived for many years, and then up a sandy lane between high crumbling banks and out on to the open denes. we take a path that runs close along on the top of the cliff, mounting a steep hill as we go till we reach a spot half a mile further on, where the sea cliff is four hundred feet high and nearly perpendicular; and here among the ruins of an old church, part of which has fallen with the slipping cliff into the sea many years ago, jack and i halt and take a look round. we are on the highest spot within miles, and spread out in front of us, as we face inland, are, first, the down-like hills, dotted over with patches of gorse and with turf between as fine and soft as a persian carpet; then cultivated fields intersected by thick hedges; and in the distance we could distinguish a clustering village here, a homestead there, an old manor-house in its well-kept garden and park-like grounds, and in all directions the square, solid, picturesque towers of village churches peeping from among the trees, that became thicker and thicker the further the eye travelled from the sea. close to our left, just under the shoulder of a hill which protects it from the keen east wind off the sea, is a tiny village of some ten cottages, all different, all neat and snug-looking, each in its own garden. there is a stand of bee-hives in one, a honeysuckle-covered porch to another, and, though it is mid-winter, there is a warm home-like look about all. then there is the one farm-house, well kept and well cared for, but old and belonging to other days, as its gables and low windows denote; and from our high hill we look over the house into a garden and orchard beyond, both enclosed by grey lichen-covered walls. on either side in front of the house are the farm buildings, all, from the big barn to the row of pigsties, thatched with long reeds, which give the whole a pleasant english home appearance. there are big yards filled with red and white cattle up to their middle in straw, others full of horses or young calves; cocks and hens are everywhere, ducks and geese swim in the big pond by the side of the road, and turkeys, so big and plump they make one long for christmas, mob together in the yard, and the turkey-cocks "gobble-gobble" at a boy who is infuriating them by whistling. a man crosses the yard with two pails on a yoke, evidently going a-milking; and another passes with a perfect hay-stack on his back, and a dozen great heavy horses come out of the stable in indian file and stump off to the pond to drink. beyond the farmstead, in a field on the right of the road, is a double row of heaped up mangels and swedes; and a little further on are a number of stacks, so neatly built and thatched that it seems quite a pity they should soon be pulled down and thrashed, but all showing signs of prosperity and plenty. beyond this stands a tiny church, with reed-thatch roof. it is all, church and tower, built of round flint stones as big as oranges, cleverly split in two and the flat side facing outwards; and from the dog-tooth saxon arch over the door one knows it has seen many generations pass away and find rest from the buffets and storms of the world in the peaceful, carefully-tended "god's acre" that surrounds it. if one passed down the red gravel churchyard path, and on in front of the south door to the far corner, under the big cedar, a small door would be found, which would lead through a well-kept, old-fashioned garden to the rectory: a good old elizabethan house, covered with thick creepers up to the very eaves, the model of one of england's snug homes--homes that have turned out the very best men the dear old land has produced, to fight, struggle, conquer or die in all professions, in all parts of the world; men who in such shelters learned to be honest and true, brave and persevering, lions in courage, women in gentleness; who could face hardships and poverty without a moan, and prosperity and riches without swagger; and through all the difficulties of life thought of the old home, and when success arrived, be they ever so far away, packed up and came back to finish their days in just such another home and such surroundings. turn round now, jack; turn round and take a look at the restless sea rolling its big waters on the smooth strip of sand there below _on this side_; and on the other, jack, far, far away over there in the south, on the other side of the world, laving the roots of the palm and the mangrove, beneath the burning rays of tropical suns; and away round here, jack, far in the north, dashing its storm-driven waves against the face of frost-bound rocks and treacherous icebergs. there on the dancing waters, with all sails set, chasing the lights and shadows as they flit before it, sails a boat bound south to sunny climes. there on the horizon, against wind and wave, steams a collier, taking fuel to lands where the snow lies deep on the ground for four months in the year; and right and left, outward bound or coming home, are various white sails dotting the waters. but, jack, how about supper? i ordered eggs and bacon for supper, and those chimney corners at the inn looked as if they might be snug and warm to smoke a pipe in afterwards before turning in. step on, jack, and have supper ready in half an hour, while i go round by the rectory and see if the two young gentlemen are at home. they are the right sort, and as keen as pepper after the rabbits, and they always have half a dozen good terriers as fond of the sport as they are. at the rectory i received a kindly welcome from miss madge ashfield, the rector's only daughter and the sister of the two lads i came to enquire for; and i was told that they were not yet back from school, but were expected in three days, and that only that morning a letter came from them asking when i was likely to come and work the denes. i comforted miss madge, who at first feared the pick of the sport might be over before her brothers arrived, by telling her that for the next four days jack and i should be busy "doctoring" holes, and that during that time we could not "away with" boys or dogs, as both were too noisy for the work. miss madge took me round to the kennels to see some rough wire-haired terriers, old friends; also three new ones, all supposed to be wonders; and she told me she would arrange for her brothers to bring one day five small beagles belonging to a friend. jack and i did our duty by the ham and eggs that night at the inn, and the pipe in the old-fashioned chimney corner was very sweet; and if the beds were a bit hard and knubbly, we did not keep awake to think of them, for we had both been up since day-break. by eight o'clock the next morning we had finished breakfast, given the dogs a few minutes' run to stretch their legs, fed the ferrets that were not wanted, and were on our way to the denes, each with two strong male ferrets, a spade, and game-bag with cold meat and bread in it. we were on our way to "doctor" the burrows, and this is done by running a muzzled ferret that has first been smeared with a little spirits of tar down every hole, with a line on it. it is necessary to keep very quiet, so as to get the rabbits to bolt. we don't want to kill a single rabbit, but only to disturb hole after hole, bolt what rabbits we can, and leave a nice sweet smell of tarred ferret behind us. no time is lost. jack goes one way and i another, and every hole is visited till evening shades stop us; then back home to supper and bed, and at it again in the morning; but on the second day we begin by visiting each hole we ferreted the day before, stopping them tight down with sods, and sticking a piece of white paper on the top of such stopped holes. no fear of shutting in a rabbit, as the smell of the tarred ferret will keep them out for days; and no fear of their opening the stopping, as the paper will drive them away. for four days this work goes on, and we are ready to wager there is not a hole in the cliffs or denes that is not doctored, and not a rabbit that is not above ground. it was wednesday night when we had finished, and that evening the two boys from the rectory came down to the inn to see us and get instructions for the morrow; but i was glad they did not stay long, for we wanted to go to bed early, so as to get a good night and yet be up betimes. by eight o'clock next morning, jack and i were already back from the denes, after having run out one thousand yards of long nets. the nets are in lengths of about one hundred yards, and two feet six inches high, made of fine string, and each of the top and bottom meshes knotted on to a cord that runs the entire length. to set these nets, they are threaded on to a smooth stick, four feet long, and the stick with the nets on is thrown over a man's shoulder. the man walks off with the nets along the border of the piece of ground to be enclosed, while another, after fixing the end of the first net fast to a starting stick, follows behind. as the man with the net proceeds, he lets the net slip slowly off the stick on his shoulder, piece by piece; and, as it comes down, the man behind picks up the top line, gives the net a shake, and twists the line round the top of stakes previously placed in the ground about fifty yards apart, taking care as he goes that the bottom of the net lies for a few inches on the ground. in this way squares of gorse of about two hundred yards can be entirely enclosed, and every rabbit inside them surrounded like sheep inside a fold. our breakfast over, we were soon out again with all our dogs (except old chance, who had been left at home on account of her age, and also on account of her trick of always liking to go up to the carrier's each night to sleep), and we had also two real good lurchers. at the foot of the denes we met the boys from the rectory, with a friend about their own age, and the curate of the next parish with a business-like ash stick under his arm; and among them they had mustered a pack of ten terriers, some of which wanted to begin work by a fight with my dogs; but it takes two to make a quarrel, and my dogs knew better than to waste their strength in fighting when there was a day's work in front of them. in a few minutes we were at the first piece of netted gorse--a real tearer, close, compact and a mass of thorns; but what dogs or boys care for gorse thorns when rabbits are on foot? so it is, "over you go, boys!" "hie in, dogs! roust them out there!" and the old dogs spring the nets and are at work in a minute, while the young ones blunder and struggle in the nets, and have to be lifted over. the curate, jack and i, and the man who drove the cart with the nets, and who will carry off the dead rabbits, stand at the nets and take out and kill the rabbits that get caught; and for the first hour we have as much as we can do, and work our hardest. many rabbits do get through the nets, and others go back, and these latter it is difficult to get into the nets a second time, and they are killed by the dogs in the thick gorse. yap! yap! yap! "hie in, good dogs! hie in, young ones! ah! back there! back! no going over the nets! would you? look here! hie there! in you go!" yap! yap! yap! all scurry, rush and bustle; and the rectory boys and their friend are all over the square at once, and in ten minutes so tingle from innumerable pricks from the gorse that they are benumbed and feel them no more. "go, fly, go!" and a big hare dashes out, with fly after it, and both jump the net and make for another clump of gorse; but fly has never been beaten since she was a puppy, and soon returns with the hare in her mouth. "hie in, dogs! hie in!" there are more yet, and we are bound to make a clean sweep; and so the work goes on. first one patch, and then another, till lunch-time, which said lunch, according to a long-standing custom, comes up in a cart from the rectory; but after snatching a hurried bit, the man and i have to bustle away to shift the nets, a work that keeps us hard at it for an hour and more; but long before we have done, the boys, parson and dogs are at it again in one of the first patches we have surrounded, and it is night and the moon is up before we have finished and picked up the nets. we find on counting the bag that we have two hundred and seventy rabbits, and feel content with our day's work. on friday and saturday the same work, and when we turned homewards on this last night, it was as much as man, boys or dogs could do to drag themselves along; but we had killed six hundred and fifty rabbits in the three days and were well content. chapter ix. sunday was to us all a real day of rest, and we enjoyed every minute of it, and for once listened to a very long sermon without the fidgets. the rectory boys came up for a chat in the afternoon, so we let the dogs out and went down to the beach and strolled quietly about, neither dogs nor humans indulging in anything like play--all were too stiff and sore to think of it. we were all out again early on monday morning, but without nets and taking only sticks; and we spent a short day, with a long lunch, looking up outlying rabbits in the hedges of the farm at the foot of the denes; and here the two lurchers, who during the days at the nets had taken it easy and refused to face the gorse, had the chief of the work, for directly a rabbit was started by the other dogs, it made straight off across the open for the gorse on the denes, and the lurchers were the only dogs fast enough to catch them. we finally had to give up work because the dogs of all sorts were too tired to move, and also because the weather, that had been fine and calm all the previous week, began to break, and before we reached shelter there was half a gale sending big green waves thundering on to the beach and carrying the salt spray far inland. that night, after jack was in bed and asleep, i put on my hat and went out, called by the noise of the waters. i joined a group of weather-beaten hard-featured men dressed in thick blue jerseys and "sou-wester" hats, who stood with their hands tucked deep into their trouser pockets, watching the sea from behind the shelter of a boat stranded high up on the beach. i got a civil word of greeting as i came up, and then we all watched in silence, for by this time the "half gale" had become a storm, and it was only by shouting we could have made each other hear. it was a wild weird scene, awe-inspiring, but intensely attractive--at least _i_ found it so; but then such scenes did not often come before me, and i daresay my companions, who were well used to being out on such a night, only felt thankful they were safe on shore, and thought with anxiety of those of their friends and neighbours who were out battling with the storm. the moon when i reached the beach was nearly at the full and high up in the heavens, but it shed a fitful light, as each few seconds dark clouds and veils of mist flew across its face. one moment the sea lay before us a dark black mass, only marked along the beach by a broad strip of breaking, foam-crested waves; and the next it was a dancing, tossing, roaring sheet of ever-changing liquid silver; or far away we would see the spray like pearls rising high in the air before the storm, and at our feet the waves curled up like huge furious monsters, dashing at the sands and shingle as if bent on destruction, and then with a swirl sliding back, a mass of foam, to meet and join the next wave, and with its help again come on to the attack. over and over again i fancied i could hear the shrieks and groans of people in distress, and i turned for confirmation of my fancies to the faces of my companions; but all remained unmoved, but bore the quiet determined look that assured me that, had any unfortunate beings called for help from the midst of those wild waters, at the risk of those men's lives it would unhesitatingly have been given. once for a moment, when a thin mist swept before the moon and made the light on the waters appear more like day than night, i clearly saw on the horizon the upper part of a ship's masts, with some sails bent to their yards, and all heeled over as if the ship were then about to founder, and i gave a loud exclamation; but an old sailor put his hand on my shoulder and called in my ear, "all right, master, all right! we have watched her for a quarter of an hour trying to make the point of the sands yonder, and she is now past them and has an open sea. she is as safe as you are now, thank god; but it was a near shave, and we thought she and all in her were gone." often since then in my dreams i have seen that wind-tossed sea, and heard the roar of the waters and the screams of the storm, and seen those masts and sails heeling over, and have awoke with a start and dread fear in my heart. i had been tired when i came in from work, and i had a snug warm bed waiting for me, and moreover i reasoned that watching a storm in the dead of night was no part of a rat-catcher's duty; but i was so fascinated i could not tear myself away, and i stood with my companions behind the boat till long after midnight. then two other figures dressed like my companions joined us, and it was only when they spoke that i recognised one as the parson of the parish, and the other as the young curate who had helped us with the rabbits. both asked a few questions of the sailors, who seemed eager to give them information; and then the rector, turning to me, said: "you will be perished by the cold if you stand here longer. come with me, and i will show you a picture of a different sort, but yet one that i think will interest you." i readily accepted and followed my friend, who, though far from a young man, bore the buffeting of the storm manfully; and he led me up through the village street, and then turning down a short steep lane brought me to a little cove that was partly sheltered by a spit of rock that jutted out into the sea. there, such as it was, was the harbour of the village, and by the fitful light i could see some dozen fishing boats drawn up high on the beach above the force of the waves; and beyond, a cluster of low, one-storied cottages and sheds, with small boats, spars, timbers, windlasses, etc., all denoting the home of fishermen. from this cove, early that morning, two boats had sailed with their nets for the fishing grounds out beyond the sands, and it was for these my friends behind the boat were patiently watching, and it was to say a few words to cheer and comfort the wives and families of these men that the old rector had now come. from a latticed window just in front of us a bright lamp shed its rays over the cove, and the rector took me straight to the door of this house, and having knocked and been told to come in, he lifted the latch and ushered me inside. the room was like hundreds of others along that coast, the homes of the toilers of the deep, and bore evident signs of being made by men more used to ships than stone or brick buildings. it was a good large room, very low, with heavy rafters overhead, which, with the planks of which the walls were constructed, had doubtless been taken from boats and ships that had served their time on the sea. the open fireplace at the end, with its wide chimney, was the only part of the building not made of old ship timbers and planks, and there was a strong smell of tar from these and from sundry coils of dark rope that were stowed away in a far corner. the long table down the middle of the room was of mahogany and had seen better days in a captain's cabin. the benches round the walls had served as seats on some big ship's deck; and there were swinging lamps and racks hung overhead from the rafters, with rudders, boat-hook, snatch-block, belaying pins, and various things i did not know the use of; but all were neatly arranged. there was a large arm-chair made out of a barrel set ready by the side of the hearth, on which were spread clean flannel clothes to warm and air, in readiness for the home-coming of the wet and tired husband. in front of the fire, attending to it and to three or four pots and kettles that simmered on the hearth, stood a woman about thirty years of age--just an ordinary fisherman's wife, strong and well shaped, without beauty of feature, but bright and intelligent looking; and when a smile lit up her face, it shed such a kindly ray that one felt that the husband in the little fishing boat on the storm-tossed deep might have his eyes fixed on the lantern burning in the window, but it would be the light of the wife's smile that kept his hand steady on the helm and guided the boat, and made him long to round the point and come to anchor. on the other side of the hearth was another arm-chair, also made out of a barrel, but much smaller; and in this, packed tightly and snugly round with cushions, half-sat, half-reclined a boy about ten years of age; but, alas! a pair of crutches leaning in the corner beside him at once told a sad tale. i know the points and beauties of all sorts of dogs, and always admire them, but i am not much of a hand at the good points and beauties of men and women, and as for boys, it is rare i see anything but mischief written in their faces; but somehow i could not take my eyes off the boy in the chair. i suppose because it was so different to an other young face i had ever seen, and so different to what one might expect to find amid the surroundings of a fisherman's cottage. it was a dark, delicate, oval face, like a girl's, with finely cut features, and a complexion as fair as the petals of an apple blossom; but it was his great brown eyes and long eyelashes, black as night, that held the attention, together with a look of deep patient suffering, mingled with gentleness and love that lit all up, and filled even the heart of a rough old rat-catcher like me with a feeling of deep pity and an intense desire to protect and befriend a small creature who looked too fragile, too beautiful, and too good for this old work-a-day world of ours, and as if he were only tarrying for a short while before going to his eternal home, where his features will be beautified by perfect love, and will lose the look of suffering and pain. the rector, taking off his "sou'-wester" as he entered, turned to the woman with a cheery voice, and said, "well, mary, how are you and the boy?--how are you, my man? i happened to be passing" (just as if it were quite a common thing for a parson to be out on the loose at one a.m. on a winter's night), "and i thought i would just call in to say that the men at the boats tell me that the bark of this gale is far worse than its bite, and that it is a fair, honest, rattling gale that such good sailors as your husband care nothing for, and that we may expect the boats in with the daylight, so you may keep the pots boiling. but why isn't that youngster snug in bed and asleep? oh! he can't sleep when the wind howls, and jack is away! why, my boy, jack will laugh at you when he comes home, and say he don't want such big, tired-looking eyes watching for him! well, it will be morning soon, and, please god, jack will be here, and will have popped you into bed himself before most of the world are up and about." at this mary smiled; and the little boy, with a low laugh, said: "jack knows mary and i are waiting for him. jack says he can often see us, and all we are doing, when he is out at sea in a raging storm, and the night is ever so dark; and he'd feel bad, jack would, if i was not up to see him eat his supper; and besides, mary could not sit here alone and listen to the wind and sea, and i am never tired and sleepy when waiting for jack. besides, jack says he must tell someone all he has done and seen while he gets his supper, and mary is too busy after the nets and things, so i sit here, and jack tells me of such wonderful things: it is just lovely to hear him." the rector would not sit down, and soon hurried me off to another cottage, much such another as the first; but instead of mary and the boy, we found a great, tall, gaunt old woman, sitting up before the fire, waiting for her two grandsons, who were away in the same boat with jack; but to the rector's cheery, hopeful words, the woman answered with a bitter, sharp, complaining tongue: "i don't want no stop-at-home idle chaps to tell me what a storm is. danger! who says there's danger? danger with a little puff of wind like this? not but what both of those boys will be washed ashore one day as their grandfather and father were. it's in the blood, and trying for a lone woman. drat the boys! i told them not to go off with jack. i could see plain for days that it was coming on to blow; but oh, no! they know better than me, who have lived to lose their father in such a storm as this, and to see his boat with my own eyes go to pieces on the point as she came in, and not a man saved, and me left with them boys to keep. god only knows how i did it, and now they are that masterful they won't pay no attention to me." and then, as a hurricane of wind dashed at the door and windows and sent the smoke from the wood fire far out into the room, the poor old thing started and turned to the night outside with a look of terror; and, as the storm rushed on, and then there was a lull, she threw her apron over her head and sobbed for fear and deep anxiety for her grandsons. the rector comforted her with gentle words and praise of her pluck and nerves; and as he and i returned to the beach, he told me that the old woman had once been the prettiest girl for many miles round, that when her boys were far too young to help her the father had been drowned by the upsetting of his boat on the point, and from that day she had worked and toiled, mending nets and selling fish in fair weather and foul, often weary and half-starved, but succeeding in the end to keep her old cottage over her head, and to bring her boys up respectably and turn them out two of the smartest fishermen along the coast. as we left the cottage the first tender light of the morning was paling the eastern sky far out to sea, and hastening on to the point, we could just make out a distant sail appearing now and then out of the departing darkness of the night, and before half an hour was over the rector declared it to be jack's boat coming in fast before the wind. all the village was astir in a minute, old men and young women and children hurrying to the cove and making ready for the home-coming; and in a few minutes the boat, with jack holding the helm and the old woman's boys sitting crouched low down, dashed past the point, turned sharp into the cove, and down in a moment fell the sail and the anchor-chain rattled out of the bows. there was no cheering or noisy welcome or rejoicing, for such scenes were the daily incidents in the life of the village; but everyone lent a helping hand, and in a few minutes jack and his men were on shore. the old grandmother was there, but took no notice of her grandsons, who marched off to the cottage laden with oars, etc., where the old woman had just preceded them to put out the breakfast. the rector and i turned to go home, and as i passed the cottage where jack lived i glanced in and saw him standing on the hearth, tall, massive, weather-beaten and rugged, with the lame boy high up in his arms looking hard in his face, and both man and child had such a happy contented smile on their faces that it did me good to see, and i think may have rejoiced even the angels above. when parting from me at the inn door, the rector said that if i liked to step up to the rectory that evening after my supper he would find me a pipe of tobacco, and tell me all that was known of the history of the little boy who had awakened such an interest in me, for, he added, "it is a very curious story." chapter x. at eight o'clock, having fed my dogs and ferrets and left my boy jack chatting in the harness-room with the rector's old coachman, i found myself in a snug arm-chair, pipe in mouth, my feet on the fender, and the rector sitting opposite me in his study, he also enjoying an after-dinner pipe; and after a chat over the events of the day and of the storm of the previous night, the rector began the history of the poor lame boy at the cottage thus-- "i dare say you remember that about eight years ago the irish question was giving the authorities much trouble and anxiety owing to the active turn it had then taken. hideous murders were of daily occurrence in that unfortunate country. dynamite was being used in london to destroy our public buildings, and many of our statesmen were being tracked by paid assassins. strict orders had been issued by the authorities to watch all our ports to prevent the landing from america of arms and infernal machines, and both the police and customs officers were on the alert; and yet, in spite of all, bloodthirsty, cowardly dynamiters and assassins succeeded in sneaking into the country, and every now and then perpetrated some hateful outrage. well, it was during this time that one november morning a queer-looking yacht-like vessel appeared in the offing, and for two days kept standing about. during the day-time it was well out in the offing, but once or twice at night it was noticed by the coastguard and sailors to have come close in to land, and altogether its movements were so mysterious that our suspicions were fully aroused, and the officer of the coastguard telegraphed to the captain of the gunboat stationed at brockmouth to put him on the alert. "for some days after this nothing was seen of the yacht, and our suspicions were lulled, and life in our quiet little village had settled down to its usual routine, when early one stormy morning the strange vessel was again seen close off the land, and a boat manned by six men put off for the little harbour; and just as it rounded the point and got into smooth water, a dog-cart, that we all recognised as one let out for hire in a town ten miles inland, drove down to the beach. beside the driver sat a tall, thin, dark man, but the few people on the beach had only time to observe this and that he had the dress and appearance of a gentleman, when he sprang from the cart and hurried to where the boat lay, and without hesitating a moment or speaking to anyone he waded out through the low surf to the boat, which at once left the harbour and made the best of its way to the yacht, which as soon as all were on board hoisted all sail and was soon out of sight, driven along by a storm that became in the course of the day as fierce a one as that of last night. there was much talk on the beach among the fishermen and in the village among us all as to what the yacht could be and who the stranger was; and we gathered from the driver of the dog-cart, who had put up his horse at the inn to rest, that he had been called by the porter at the railway station to drive the gentleman over; but that he had not heard his name, or what business brought him here. the driver, who was a sharp old fellow, said the gentleman had chatted with him as he came along, but kept pressing him to drive faster and faster, and gave him five shillings above his fare to use his best speed, and he added: 'i don't know who he is, or what his business may be, but i know one thing--he is an irishman. i can tell it by his tongue, and by his queer-looking blue eyes and dark hair.' "four and twenty hours passed, and during that time many people, i among the number, did not go to bed, for the storm which had sprung up with the departing yacht had blown itself into half a hurricane, and there were fishing boats out, which made us all anxious. as we did last night, or rather this morning, i went round to a few of the fishermen's houses where there were anxious wives and mothers waiting for the absent, and chatted with and cheered them, and i was leaving the two cottages that i daresay you noticed close under the rock towards the point when the first streaks of morning began to appear in the east. i love to see the day break at any time, but i especially like to watch it over a stormy angry sea; and therefore sheltering myself a little behind a boulder, i stood gazing for a while, when presently, like a thing of life, came plunging and driving from the very gates of the morning the same yacht that had so puzzled us. on and on it came, close-hauled to the wind, straight for the narrow rock-bound jaws of the cove; and i saw at a glance that, if it kept its course, it must strike on a group of rocks some half-mile out at sea; and, parson as i am, i knew, should she strike them, no human aid could save the lives of those on board. "i hardly know what i did, except that i took off my coat and waved it frantically, and mounted the highest pinnacle on the rocky point to make myself seen by the fated crew; but though at last i could actually distinguish two men at the wheel holding the vessel close to the wind, yet they took no notice, and came on and on, leaping waves mountains high one minute, and lost to sight the next in the trough of the seas. scores of fishermen soon joined me, and even their wives followed and crouched near, behind the rocks; and so fully was the ship's danger realized, that from time to time a deep groan, half of despair, half prayer, went up from all. there was but one hope--could the yacht be kept close enough to the wind to lead those steering her to believe they could make the entrance of the harbour? or would she be carried far enough to windward to make this impossible, and so force those in charge to alter her course to avoid the stiff cliffs beyond? ah, no! we saw as we watched that she was too good a vessel to fall off to leeward, and those handling her too good sailors to allow her to do so, for she flew over the waves like a beautiful bird for the entrance of the harbour, and the sunken rocks were in her direct line! "suddenly as we watched, with every sense strained to the utmost, and our eyes rivetted on the doomed ship, we heard away out to sea the boom of a big gun, and then another, and presently we saw emerging from the fast diminishing darkness a low, long steamer. at first we thought it was a ship also in deep distress, making signals; but the old sailors soon saw this was not so, and declared it was a gunboat firing at the yacht in the hope of driving her on to the rock-bound coast, and also to attract the attention of the coastguard, so that, should she reach the harbour, those on board might be prevented from escaping the hands of justice. it was a cruel service for british sailors to be employed on, however necessary, and hard to witness. man hunting man to his death, when the wind and waves already held open the portals of eternity before him, and little short of a miracle could avert his doom! "a few minutes, a few hundred yards, and the yacht is on the rocks! gallantly she glides along the side of that green wave and dashes the foam from her crest ere she plunges deep into the sea. a monster wave rolls fast upon her as if to swallow her quivering form. high, high she rises, till half her length is in the air over the crest of the wave, and then down she sinks; then the crash comes. waves dash over her, her masts fall, her boats are wrenched from her sides, and the next minute we see her, a tangled mass of wreck and cordage, firmly embedded on the pitiless rocks. don't suppose our fishermen had been quietly watching this and doing nothing to help. from the first, preparations had been made. our friend jack, and a score of other active young men, had shoved off the only boat on the beach that had the faintest hope of living in a storm like this, and had been waiting in it close to the harbour mouth some minutes before the yacht struck. but so small was the chance of that frail boat living in such a sea, that many of the most experienced of the sailors made signals to prevent the men starting off to meet what they thought was certain death. others thought it might be done, and waved contrary signals; and it was then that one saw what sort of women our sailors' wives are, for though many standing there with us had near and dear ones in that boat, and were suffering tortures of anxiety, not a word was spoken, but all was left for the men to do as they thought right. "as the yacht struck, a deep, wailing shout went up from all on land, and those in the boat knew what had happened, and the next moment we saw the boat plunge into the green waves at the harbour mouth. for a moment it seemed to stagger and quail, and then, impelled by those hands and muscles of iron, it was driven forward through the blinding spray into the angry sea beyond. shall i ever forget how we watched that boat, now mounted high on the top of a wave, now for moments lost to sight, the men all straining at their oars to the utmost, and always creeping forward yard by yard? all this time, we on the point could see, with increasing fears, that the hope of the yacht holding together till reached by the rescuers was but a faint one. each monster wave that rolled in lifted it from the rocks and left it to fall back with an irresistible force midst spray and foam, that constantly wholly hid it from our sight; and even before the boat started, portions of the wreck were being tossed about on the sea, making its passage even more precarious. at one time a group of human beings was seen on the deck clinging to some cordage; but when the next wave passed, most of them had disappeared, and we knew they had perished before our eyes. it was difficult to distinguish objects midst the turmoil, but it soon was whispered among us that some one or more persons were crouching behind the bulwarks, probably lashed there for safety, and from an occasional flutter of a red scarf or garment, we feared there was an unfortunate woman among them; and once, as the waves receded from the deck, we distinctly saw a man rise up from the group and look for a moment towards the approaching boat, and then sink again beside his companions, just as the incoming wave swept high over the poor shelter the stout bulwark afforded. "if the yacht could only hold together a few minutes longer! but no! once more it rises from its bed like some agonised, dying monster, and then as it falls back it parts in two, and half of it is a drifting mass of planks and timber, washing forward as if to meet the boat and destroy it. a portion yet remained fixed on the rock, and now and then we could still see the group crouching behind the bulwark. on and on fought the boat, now a little out of the direct line to avoid the wreckage, till it was close behind the wreck and partially sheltered by the rampart it formed against the sea; but at that moment all that remained of it was again lifted high in the air and dashed forward; and when the wave had passed by, there was only the frail boat with its brave crew to be seen on the surface. we see it pause for a moment, and then the oars all dip together, and the boat dashes forward. someone leans over the bows, and there is a moment's struggle; but the mist and foam prevent our distinguishing clearly what is going on. after a while they evidently find there is nothing further that can be done; the boat is put before the waves and comes dashing back towards land. "all on the point hurried down to the entrance of the harbour; and many of the men, with coils of rope in their hands, stood ready to give assistance. as each wave rolled under the boat, it flew through the water, and then sank back again hidden from our sight; but nearer and nearer it came on, till at last on the crest of a wave it darted sharp round the point, and lay tossing in comparatively calm water. steadily its crew rowed it up the little harbour, and as it approached the beach scores of ready hands seized it and ran it high up on to dry land, and a cheer rang out above the roar of the wind to welcome those snatched from the jaws of death. but this was not responded to by the men in the boat. they all looked stern and anxious; and then we saw that jack, who was crouched in the bows, was supporting in his arms the slight form of a fair young girl, with long, soft, tangled hair falling around her and forming a frame to the most beautiful saint-like face my eyes had ever seen. her lips were parted in a smile, and her eyes looked down on a small boy about two years old, who was bound in her arms by a red scarf. at first i thought she was fainting or falling asleep, but the next moment--merciful heavens!--i saw that the back of her sweet young head was battered in and bleeding, and that she was already beyond the storms of life and the cruel raging of the destroying elements. "hard horny hands of rough women tenderly and deftly unwound the scarf from off the child; and jack's wife, mary, pressing him to her bosom, hastened with him to her cottage, while the fair dead form was carried to a fisherman's house close by, and a few days later was laid in its quiet grave in the old churchyard, within sound of the ruthless sea that had so cruelly beaten the young life out of it. "you may easily find the grave, for the fishermen out of their deep pity had a plain cross put over it, with just the words 'jack's mother' and the date of her death carved upon it. to this day, and i fancy for ever, the only name she will be known by is 'jack's mother,' for all connected with that ill-fated yacht remains a mystery. not a living creature escaped, except that frail little child. many bodies were recovered during the next few days, and among them the remains of the man who had arrived the previous day in the dog-cart; but neither on any of the bodies, nor among the wreckage that came ashore, was anything found to lead to the identification of the yacht or its owners; and though the account of the disaster appeared in all the papers and was the talk of the county, yet no living soul has ever come forward to claim connection with the child or with any of those drowned. "it was thought at the time that the owner of the yacht was one of those desperate ruffians of irish extraction that have from time to time arrived here from america, and that when he so hastily joined the vessel he was in fear of detection and was about to sail for america. anyhow the yacht was sighted by the gunboat sent to look after it, and chased and driven through the storm back to our little harbour, it being doubtless the intention of the fugitive to attempt his escape by land if he could once reach the shore. how miserably it ended you now know; but you don't know quite all, for i have not told you that, on reaching their cottage, jack's wife found that the little one breathed. i have told you of the storm, and i have told you of the wreck; but words would fail to tell of all the love and care and attention that was bestowed for weeks--aye! for years, up to this day--on the little one. only the recording angel can note such things, and only the god of love can reward them. not that either jack or his wife think of rewards either from earth or in heaven, for their love is wholly unselfish and all-satisfying; and were only the boy well and strong, i am sure that in all these realms there could not be found a more perfectly happy trio than jack the fisherman, little jack, and his adopted mother. unfortunately it was discovered that in some way the child's back had been injured in the storm. for months he lay between life and death, at last to recover partially only in health, and without the use of his poor legs. "many friends have come forward with help, and great london doctors have seen and attended the boy. till lately they gave little hope, but, thank god, there has been during the past year a slow but steady improvement, and they now think in time the boy may grow strong in health, but there is no hope of his ever walking without his crutches. "fortunately nature has bestowed many gifts on the poor child that compensate him somewhat for his loss--first, an intensely loving, unselfish nature; and secondly, a perfect voice and passionate love of music. already he is carried each sunday to church by his father, and his voice in the choir is celebrated for many miles round, and has so impressed the organist at the cathedral at marshford that he either comes himself, or sends one of his pupils, to give the boy a lesson once a week, and there is not a better violinist within the bounds of the county than our little jack is. his father is so proud of the boy's gifts that i have known him, when wind-bound in a harbour down the coast twenty miles away, walk over the whole distance on a sunday morning and back at night rather than miss carrying the little fellow to church and hearing him sing there. but it is eleven o'clock, and we were up all last night. what, no grog? well, good night! come and see me when you can, and come and watch the sea with me in another storm, and we will see if i can't rake up another story of the doings of the rough heroes of our neighbourhood who go down to the sea in ships. good night, good night!" and so one of the pleasantest evenings i had spent for a long while was over. oh, dear! oh, dear! what a muddle, what a hodge-podge i have made of this pen work! i sat down thinking it would be quite easy to write a book on "rat-catching for the use of schools," and i have drifted off the line here, toppled into a story there, and been as wild and erratic in my goings on as even pepper would be with a dozen rats loose together in a thick hedge. well, i can't help it. i am not much good at books, and it ain't of much consequence, for during the last few days i have heard from half a dozen head-masters of schools that they find the art of rat-catching is so distasteful to their scholars, and so much above their intellect, and so fatiguing an exercise to the youthful mind, that they feel obliged to abandon the study of it and replace it once more by those easier and pleasanter subjects, _latin_ and _greek_. well, i am sorry for it, very sorry. i had hoped to have opened up a great career to many young gentlemen, but have failed; and i can only console myself with thinking that one can't make silk purses out of--you know what. mind, in this quotation i am not thinking of myself and my failure. london: printed by william clowes and sons, limited, stamford street and charing cross. transcriber's note: author noted as g. boare in the opening pages, and as g. boase at the end of the text. left as printed. * * * * * what became of them? and the conceited little pig by g. boare. [illustration] pictured by a. m. lockyer. (designed in england.) hildesheimer & faulkner, london e. c. (printed in germany.) * * * * * what became of them? [illustration] pictured by a. m. lockyer hildesheimer & faulkner, london e. c. geo c. whitney, new york. designed in england. printed in germany. [illustration] he was a rat, and she was a rat, and down in one hole they did dwell, and both were as black as a witch's cat, and they loved one another well. he had a tail, and she had a tail, both long and curling and fine, and each said "yours is the finest tail in the world,--excepting mine!" [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] he smelt the cheese, and she smelt the cheese, and they both pronounced it good, and both remarked it would greatly add to the charms of their daily food. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] so he ventured out, and she ventured out, and i saw them go with pain, but what befell them i never can tell, for they never came back again. anon. [illustration] this poem is reprinted from "st. nicholas" by kind permission of the century company. [illustration] * * * * * the conceited little pig. [illustration] there were six little pigs, as i've heard people say, went out with their mother-pig walking one day, the sun shone so bright, and the air was so free, they might all have been happy, as happy could be. and so they all were, except one little brother, who thought he was wiser, poor thing, than his mother, and was always contriving some nonsense to chatter, and, when she reproved him, said, "what does it matter?" "i scarcely need answer" his mother would say, "you yourself will discover the matter one day. "take my word, you'll repent it, or sooner or later." says he "i repent it! why, what does it matter?" [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] just while they were talking, a mastiff passed by, enjoying the sunshine and pretty blue sky. said this bad little pig "how i long to displease him i daresay, if i grunt, it will mightily tease him." his mother replied, "it were better by far to let him be quiet, and stay where you are, for, if you affront him, he'll bite you i know." "what matters it whether he bite me or no?" said the silly young thing, and he scampered away and grunted at doggy, but what did dog say? why, he turned round, and seizing pig's ear with his teeth he tore it, and worried him nearly to death. then took himself off, and pig ran away too. and come to his mother to know what to do, who took no account of his crying and clatter. he said, "oh my ear!" she said "what does it matter?" "'tis only the bite that i bade you beware of, besides, your own ear you can surely take care of! i wonder to hear you consulting another, especially me, your poor ignorant mother!" [illustration] all this time little piggy was crying and screaming, and over his cheeks the salt tears were streaming, and sadly he grieved as he cast his eyes round, and saw all his brothers with ears safe and sound. you'll think after this he was prudent and wise, and loved his good mother and took her advice, you'll think he began his bad ways to forsake, but this, i assure you, is all a mistake. for still he was naughty, as naughty could be: and as often was punished--then, sorry was he; but as soon as he fairly was rid of the pain, he forgot all about it, and did wrong again. it happened one day, as the other pigs tell, in the course of their walk they drew near to a well; so wide and so deep, with so smooth a wall round, if a pig tumbled in, he was sure to be drowned. so the mother stopped two, who were running a race, saying, "children, take care, 'tis a dangerous place! walk soberly on till you're safe past the water." "why, 'tis but a well, and pray, what does it matter?" [illustration] [illustration] said the obstinate animal, foolish as ever, but thinking himself very cunning and clever. he made up his mind that whatever befell he would run on before, and jump over this well. "for," says he, "cats and dogs can jump ever so high, and frogs live in the water, and why should not i? i suppose they'll allow i'm as wise as a frog, and i'll very soon show i can jump like a dog." away scampered he to the mouth of the well, climbed up to the top, missed his footing and fell. from the bottom he set up a pitiful shout, "o mother, i'm in, and i cannot get out!" she ran to the side when she heard his complaint, and saw him in agony, struggling and faint, but no help could she give. "o children!" said she; "how often i told you just how it would be!" [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] "o mother! o mother!" the little pig cried, "now i really repent of my folly and pride, oh, i'm sure i shall die!" and he sank down and died, while his mother and brothers wept round the well side. g. boase. [illustration] transcriber's note: this etext was produced from imagination stories of science and fantasy january . extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed. brown john's body _by_ _winston marks_ erd neff wanted as little to do with his fellow men as possible. so he lived alone in his big cash-vault. alone, except for john.... * * * * * erd neff dropped a thin bundle of currency into the $ bill drawer of the flat-top desk and kicked the drawer shut with a dusty boot. he flicked the drip from his hooked nose, which was chronically irritated by the wheat dust of the warehouse, then he wiped his fingers down the leg of his soiled denims. across the x , windowless room john stirred awake from the noise and began nosing in the debris of his filthy cage. "time for supper, john?" neff tugged at the twine at his belt and examined his $ watch. he pinched a dozen grains of wheat from a two-pound coffee can and let them sift through the wires of the cage. john pounced on the grain hungrily. "wait a minute! what do you say, dammit?" neff's hand reached for the marshmallow-toasting fork that hung from a hook on the wall. he touched the points, filed needle sharp. "what do you say?" he repeated, twanging the tines like a tuning fork. john skittered to the far corner, tearing new holes in the old newspaper with frantic claws. cowering against the wires he spat half-chewed flecks of wheat trying to say the magic words that would spare him from the fork. "tinkoo! tinkoo!" he squeaked, straining to make the two syllables distinct. neff hung up the fork, and john turned to lick at the old scabs clotted from earlier jabs, taking sullen inventory to be sure there were no new crimson leaks in his louse-infested hide. until two months ago, he had been just one more gregarious specimen of mammalia rodentia simplicidentata myomorphia muridae decumanus. now he had another name. like each of his predecessors in the cage, he was a large, brown rat called john--after erd neff's despised and deceased father. neff named all his rats john. [illustration] "well, don't get fat." john finished the grain, pawed the air and squeaked, "mur!" "more, hey? you talk fine when you're hungry." "peef, mur, mur!" john begged. he did well with his vowels, but "i" and "s" sounds were beyond him. he said "f" for "s". "l's" he ignored entirely. neff gave him one more wheat head. "okay, _get_ fat!" he turned to the door, lifted the inside, mechanical latch, shoved with his foot and snatched his revolver from his hip-holster. the vault door opened ponderously revealing an empty warehouse. neff peeked through the crack between the hinges to clear the area concealed by the door itself. one hoodlum hopeful had hidden there. spotting him through the crack, neff had simply beefed into the foot-thick slab of fireproof steel. inertial plus surprise had disposed of that one. neff hadn't even had to shoot. * * * * * tonight there was no one. funny. the wheat country was getting tame, or else the tin-horns had learned their lesson. it was no secret that erd neff never visited the local bank, yet it had been more than six months since anyone tried to hold him up. the local bank hated him plenty. he was costing them. his five loan offices in the rich wheat county skimmed the cream of the mortgage loan business. of course, nowadays most people paid off their loans, and the low interest rates he charged to lure the business barely paid expenses. yet, he still picked up an occasional foreclosure. farmers still got drunk, divorced, gambled, broke legs or committed suicide once in awhile, and neff's loan documents were ruthless about extensions of time. these foreclosed acreages he traded for grain elevators and warehouses when crops were small and operators were desperate. then came the bumper years during and after world war ii. wheat on the ground and no place to store it but in erd neff's sheds. it wasn't cheap to store with neff, and he had a virtual monopoly in ulma county. neff swung the great door back into place with its _whoosh--thunk_ that sealed in air, sound and nearly a hundred thousand dollars in currency. he levered the bolts into place and spun the expensive combination lock. the vault, tucked away in the front, left-hand corner of the old frame warehouse expressed neff's distrust and contempt for mankind. concrete and steel. bed, shower, toilet and desk. in this walk-in cash box he was fireproof, bomb-proof, theft-proof and, most important of all, people-proof. there he consorted unmolested with the one mammal on earth he found interesting--john, the brown rat. he slid the broad warehouse door closed behind him with a cacophony of dry screeches and padlocked it. the dusty street was deserted except for a black sedan which two-wheeled the corner a block away and sped toward him. neff dropped his pistol back in its holster. "now, what the hell--?" he waited on the splintery platform, a huge man, ugly of face, shortlegged and long-bodied with a belly swollen from regular overeating. his shaved head swivelled slowly as the police car leaned into a skid-stop. officer collin burns got out and stared up at the motionless statue in sweat-dust stained denims. burns was half neff's years, tall and thin. he wore gray, a silver star and a big black hat. he said, "i'll take your gun, erd." "now what? i got a permit." "not any more. it's revoked." "for why?" "there were witnesses this afternoon." "witnesses? what in hell are you--oh, no! not that damned dog?" "the puppy belonged to a little girl. you can't claim self-defense this time." "he was coming down here chasing the cats away every day." "so you shot him, like you did greeley's collie." "cats count for more. you know well as i do, you can't control the rats around a warehouse without cats." "you've shot five men, too, erd. three of them are dead." "i was cleared, you know damned well! self-defense." "you're too handy with that pistol. anyway, i didn't file this complaint. it was the child's mother, and she made it stick with the chief. give me the gun, erd." "you got a warrant for my arrest?" "no, but i will have in an hour if you insist." "i got a perfect right to protect my property." "not with a gun. not any more." "i just get these punks convinced, and now you want to turn loose on me again. who put you up to this collin?" "you did. when you shot that pup. i'm not here to debate it. you're breaking the law from this minute on if you don't hand over the gun." "dammit, collin, you know how much money i got in there? you know how much i pack around on me sometimes?" "that's your business. you can use the bank and bonded messengers--they get along with dogs." "telling me how to run my business?" "i'm telling you to give me that gun. you'll get the same police protection as any other citizen." neff sneered openly. "i'd a been dead thirty years ago depending on cops." "i don't doubt that a minute. you're easy to hate, erd. are you going to give me that gun?" "no." "you like things the hard way, don't you?" burns got back in the squad car and drove off. neff spat a crater in the wheat-littered dust and got into his own car. * * * * * two minutes later he turned up main street and stopped before city hall. inside the tiny police station he dropped his pistol on the counter. bud ackenbush looked up from his desk. "you could have saved collin some trouble." neff stalked out without a word and crossed the street to the palace cafe. he ordered a double-thick steak, fried potatoes and pie. he liked the way the waitresses scrambled for the chance to wait on him. women didn't like him. he was ugly and smelled of sweat, and on the street women looked the other way when they met him. all but the waitresses at the palace. when he came in they showed their teeth and tongues and wiggled their hips. he was a -cent tipper. the important thing was it got him his steak, really double thick and double quick. people could be real efficient. like brown john. prod 'em where they live and they'll do anything. even talk to you. "you look kinda naked tonight, erd," gloria kidded. neff wiped steak juice from his chin and stared at her breasts. it used to excite him, but now it was just habit. it was better than looking at red-smeared lips that smiled and eyes that didn't, eyes that said, "don't forget the tip, you filthy bastard!" funny. hang a gun on any other citizen in town and people would stare. take the gun off of erd neff and people make cracks. he did feel naked. "i didn't order this damned succotash!" "it's free with the steak dinner, erd." go ahead, pinch my leg like the harvesting crews do. i'm free with the dinner, too. like the ketchup. like the mustard and the salt and pepper and the steak sauce and the sugar and the extra butter if you ask for it, just don't forget the tip. clarence hogan, the fry-cook, came around the counter and leaned on the booth table beside gloria. "you don't like succotash? how about some nice peas, erd?" clarence was gloria's husband. pimp! "put some ice-cream on my pie," neff said. he looked up at clarence. "no, i don't want any goddamned peas!" they brought his pie and left him alone. he finished it and felt in his pocket for the tip. he changed his mind. to hell with gloria and her fat leg! the steak was tough. he paid the check and went out. the sky was pink yet. later in the week the sunsets would be blood-red, as the great combines increased in number and cruised the rippling ocean of wheat, leaving bristly wakes and a sky-clogging spray of dust. neff's busiest season. damn that dog! damn collin burns! his hand brushed his leg where the leather holster should be. damned laws that men made. laws that acquitted him of homicide and then snatched away his only weapon of self-defense because he shot a yapping dog. as he got in his car collin burns came out of the station. he tossed neff's gun through the open window onto the seat. "here's your property. the marshal came in, and he changed everybody's mind. it's going to cost you a hundred dollars and a new pup for the little girl, probably. here's the subpoena. tuesday at ten." "i don't get it." "the marshal said to let you fight your own battles." * * * * * neff started the car and let the clutch out. the marshal knew his way around. the transient harvesting crews were a wild bunch. if word got out that neff was unarmed, packing thousands of dollars the length of the county, the enforcement people would have a lot of extra work on their hands. he parked behind the warehouse, next to the railroad tracks. he came around front, unlocked the big door, pulled it shut behind him and bolted it. the warehouse was jet black now, but he knew every inch of the place. he could fire his pistol almost as accurately at a sound as at a visible target. he practiced on rats. holding a pocket flash, he worked the combination. as the final tumbler fell silently, a faint, raspy screech came to his ears, like a board tearing its rusty nails loose under the persuasion of a wrecking bar. he listened a minute, then he levered the bolts back, stepped into the vault-room, closed the door and shot the mechanical bolts. sure. someone was out there, but they'd get damned tired before morning. he flicked on the light and touched the other wall switch beside it. the powerful blower and sucker fans cleared out the musty air and rat-stink. john rustled in the cage, blinking at the sudden light. "hi, neff! meat! meat! meat!" smart little devil! neff sometimes brought him a scrap from his dinner, but he hadn't thought to tonight. he sucked at his teeth and pulled out a tiny string of steak. "here. bite my finger and i'll poke both your eyes out." john picked the thread of gristle from neff's finger with his fore-paws and devoured it, trembling with pleasure. neff lifted the cage. "okay, now let's have a few tricks." at once john made for the can of wheat. "get outta there!" neff scooped him up and dropped him on the desk, snapping his tail with a forefinger. john whirled, laid his ears back and opened his mouth. at bay, the brown rat, neff knew, is the most ferocious rodent of the species, but neff held his hand out daring john to bite. neff knew all about rats. more than anybody in the world knew about rats. when you live among them for three decades you find out about their cunning wariness, fecundity, secretiveness, boldness, omnivorous and voracious appetites. fools reviled them as predators and scavengers. neff appreciated them for what they really are: the most adaptable mammal on earth. john was smart but no smarter than the rest. neff had proved this by teaching every rat he captured alive to talk. impossible they had told him. even parrots and parakeets only imitate sounds in their squawking--yes, and pet crows. animals don't have thinking brains, they said. they react, trial and error, stimulus and response, but they don't _think_. neff didn't know about the others, but he knew about rats. keep them hungry and lonely for a mate. hurt them. torture them. to hell with this reward business. rats are like men. mentally lazy. they'll go for bait, sure, but they'll go faster to escape pain--a thousand times faster. and rats have lived with man from the first. they have a feeling for language like the human brat. between partitions, inches from a man's head when he lies in bed talking to his wife, under a man's feet while he's eating, over his head in the warehouse rafters while he's working. always, just inches or feet away from man, running through sewers, hiding in woodpiles, freight-cars, ships, barns, slaughter-house, skulking down black alleys, listening, hiding, stealing, always listening. yes, rats know about man, but rats had never known a man like erd neff, a man who hated all mankind. a man who chose a rat for a companion in preference to one of his own kind. rats named john learned about neff. they learned that his tones and inflections had specific meaning. they learned very fast under the stabbing prod of the marshmallow fork. with just enough food to keep them alive, their blind ferocity changed into painful attention. they learned to squeak and squawk and form the sounds into a pattern with their motile tongues. in weeks and months, they learned what the human brat learned in years. "stand up like a goddamned man!" * * * * * john stood up, his tail the third point of the support. "say the alphabet." "eh--bih--fih--dih--ih--eff--jih--etch--" neff lit a cigar and watched the smoke float away from the ceiling blower and vanish into the overhead vent in the far corner. he bobbed one foot in time to the squeaky rhythm of the recitation. he took no exception to john's failure with "i," "s", and "z". the other johns had been unable to handle them, too. "hungrih, neff. hungrih!" the big man picked out three grains of wheat. he noticed the can was almost empty. one by one he handed the kernels to his pet, waiting for john's "tinkoo!" in between. "mur! mur!" "lazy tongue! it's _more_, not mur!" john dropped to all fours and retreated. usually neff slapped him in the belly when he used that tone. but neff was bemused tonight. he kept listening for sounds, sounds that he knew could never penetrate the thick walls. they were out there, he was sure. another damned fool or two, flashing a light around, trying to figure out something. neff remembered one pair who had even tried nitroglycerin. he saw the burns on the outside of the door the next morning. amateurs! nobody knew for sure just how much money neff kept in the old desk, and big-time pros wouldn't tackle a job like this without a pretty fair notion of the loot. for all they knew, maybe he mailed it to an out-of-town bank. "okay, fetch the pencil." john jumped from the desk and moved toward the open door of the shower-stall where neff had thrown the pencil stub. he paused by the wheat can, then scurried on to get the pencil. he climbed neff's leg and dropped the pencil into the open palm. "smart punks up at state college. so you can't teach a rat anything but mazes and how to go nuts from electric shocks, eh? wouldn't they be surprised to meet you, john?" "hungrih!" "you're always hungry!" "meat! meat!" "yeah. you can sound your "e's" real good when you say, 'meat.' some day i'll cut off your tail and feed it to you." he laughed, grabbed john by the coarse hair of his back and slipped him back under the cage. then he undressed down to his underwear, turned out the light and lay on the narrow iron bed. john rustled in his cage for a minute, then there was only the faint hum of the blower and sucker motors in the ventilating system. the incoming and outgoing air was baffled and trapped to kill sounds, and spring-loaded sliding doors poised to jam shut and seal off the room if anyone tampered with the exterior grilles in the roof. the fans hummed softly and erd neff slept. _sleck-thud, sleck-thud!_ * * * * * he was awake pawing the wall for the light switch, but even as his hand found it, and his eyes discovered the closed ventilator doors, a reddish vapor sank over his body. a single gasp and neff was clawing his throat. sharp, brown-tasting, acid-burning, eye-searing, nose-stinging! he fell to his knees and clawed to the far corner, fighting for air, but the acrid stink stained his throat and nose. his eyes kept burning. the whole room must be full! the door-lever! no, that's what they wanted. blind! gun's no good now. god, for a breath of air! damned tears! can't open my eyes! air! _got to have it!_ his throat refused to open. the stink, a little like iodine, a lot like a hospital smell but a million times stronger--raked at the tender tissues of his throat. icepicks stabbed from his soft palate, up into his brain, his temples. he swayed against the door, caught the lever and heaved convulsively. the door fell away slowly. he stumbled forward, gashing his knee against the sharp jamb. a light struck redly through his clenched, tear-soaked eye-lids. "that did it. get the gun!" the voice was high, almost girlish. a young boy? a slightly heavier voice said, "got it. keep an eye on him while i find out why the fan stopped working." "he's going no place. you were right. that bromine stuff really did the business. lookit his face. sure it won't kill him?" "don't care if it does now. we got the door open." "what is this bromine, anyhow? boy it sure stinks!" "it's a chemical element like chlorine, only it's a liquid. it fumes if you don't keep it covered with water, and the fumes really get you. they used it in gas bombs in the war." "that was chlorine." "they used bromine, too. i read it." "air!" neff rasped. "help yourself if you call this stinkin' stuff in your warehouse air." from the vault the deadened voice came. "this must be the switch. the other switch is for the lights." "look out! when you turn it on don't get dosed yourself." "i only dumped a few drops in. there. it'll blow out in a few--phew, let me outta here. that stuff does--god, it's worse than the dose i got in the chem lab!" the voice grew, coughing and cursing. "better wait a minute or two. how's our big brave dog-killer doing?" on his hands and knees, neff was on the verge of passing out, but doggedly he tried to place the voices. highschool kids? _bromine._ sounded like a chemical they might filch from the highschool laboratory. a kick in the ribs reminded him he was still helpless. "all right, get back in there." they aimed him through the vault door and kept kicking him until he went. they hauled him up into his chair. he tried to strike out blindly, but his chest was full of licking flames that spread pain out to his shoulders. now rope whipped around his feet, hands, chest and neck, jerking his body hard against the castered desk-chair and cramping his head back. "tie him good. no way to lock him in with this door." neff opened his eyes. the boys were wet blurs rummaging through his desk. "look! just look at that! we can't carry all that." "get one of those burlap sacks out there. by the door." footsteps went and returned. "now, just the small bills. up to twenty. no, jerry, leave the big stuff alone. who'd take one from a kid?" "okay, let's make tracks." "wait!" neff said desperately. "my legs and hands. you've cut off the circulation!" * * * * * something hard like the barrel of a gun rapped down on the top of his head. "i ought to blow your dirty brains out. killing my little sister's dog, damn you. damn you, i think i will kill you. damn you, damn you!" the voice crested. "wait a minute jerry," the other voice cut in. "i got a better idea. here. look at this." short silence. "yeah! yeah, that's just dandy. look how thin he is. that's just what the doctor ordered. okay, the top's loose. stand by the door and don't let him get by you. wait. got your flash? good! in the dark. that's real good. which switch is it?" "throw them both." "okay. flash it over here. look out, here i come!" "hurry up! look at that hungry, black-eyed little devil. that ought to fix up the son-of-a--" ..._thunk!_ the compression rammed heavily into neff's ears. the bolts shot solidly into place from the outside, and the combination knob rang faintly as it was spun. silence. they'd go out the same way they came in and tack the board back in place. how long before anybody would miss him? twenty-four hours? hell, no. nobody would bust a gut worrying that soon. two days? some weeks he was gone several days making the rounds of his loan offices. a week? maybe. girls at the palace would get suspicious. tell collin burns. but a week! they'd cut off the blower when they threw both switches. no ventilation. no air. neff strained at the ropes. his legs were pulled under the seat so tightly that his feet were turning numb. hands were tingling, too. dirty little sadists. turning john loose thinking-- he _had_ to get loose. less than one day's air, then-- "john!" thank god john wasn't an ordinary rat. "john, come over to me. these ropes. chew them, john. come on, john. come on, boy." no sound at first, then a faint motion in the old newspapers. "john, say the alphabet!" "eh--bih----" "that's right. go on!" "fih----jih----" the squeaking stopped. "come over to me, john. come to me, boy." he held his breath. the beating of his heart was so loud he couldn't be sure that john was moving. the silence was long. even the rat was blind in this blackness. he must be patient. sweat began oozing and trickling down his face, his armpits, his back--even his left leg. no, wait! that wasn't sweat! * * * * * the throbbing in his legs was greatest at his left knee. the trickle was blood from the gash. it ran freely, now, the ropes backing up arterial pressure. never mind that! "john!" the coffee can tipped over, and the racket made neff start against his bonds. the rope sawed his adam's apple. _crunch!_ "leave that damned wheat alone, john. come over to me, boy. i'll give you a whole bag full when you chew off these ropes. hear that, john? and a chicken foot. i'll bring you a whole chicken. a live one. i'll tie her down so she won't peck you. that's what i'll do, john." he was breathing heavily now. "do you get me, john? would you like a live chicken?" "yeff." the crunching resumed for a minute then stopped. neff remembered, there had been only a dozen or so grains of wheat left. john would still be hungry. the thought of a chicken should do it. if not, he could threaten him. neff waited. relax! there was all night to work this out. finally, he felt something at his ankles. "that's the boy, john. up here and down my arms. they're behind me. get the rope off my hands first. come on boy." it was john, all right. neff could feel the little claws coming up his left leg. "come on, hurry up, john. tell you what. i'll bring you a nice, fat female, just like yourself. a live one. you can live in the cage togeth----john, don't stop there!" the claws had paused near his knee and were clinging to the blood-soaked cloth. "no, no, john! don't! i'll stick you with the fork. i'll stick you--i'll kill you! john, we got to get out of here or we'll both die. die, do you hear! we'll suffocate! don't do that. stop. stop or i'll--" neff's threats beat hard into the rat's brain, and now as the slanting incisors tore at the cloth and chewed the luscious, blood-smothered, hot meat, neff's screams sent tremors through the skinny, voracious body, and the tail tucked down. the words made john nervous, but it was dark. and there was food, such wonderful food, so much food! they were harsh words, terrible, screaming words: but words are words and food is food, and after all-- john was only a rat. the end * * * * * issued may , . u. s. department of agriculture. farmers' bulletin . methods of destroying rats. by david e. lantz, _assistant, bureau of biological survey_. [illustration] washington: government printing office. . [transcriber's note: words surrounded by tildes, like ~this~ signifies words in bold. words surrounded by underscores, like _this_, signifies words in italics.] letter of transmittal. u. s. department of agriculture, bureau of biological survey, _washington, d. c., may , _. sir: i have the honor to transmit herewith for publication farmers' bulletin no. , containing concise directions for the destruction of rats, prepared by david e. lantz, an assistant in this bureau. the damage done by these rodents, both in cities and in the country, is enormous, and the calls for practical methods of destroying them are correspondingly numerous and urgent. it is believed that by following the directions here given the numbers of this pest can be greatly reduced and the losses from them proportionally diminished. respectfully, c. hart merriam, _chief, biological survey_. hon. james wilson, _secretary of agriculture_. contents. page. introduction methods of destroying rats poisoning trapping use of ferrets and dogs fumigation rat-proof construction natural enemies of rats conclusions illustration. page. fig. .--method of baiting guillotine trap methods of destroying rats. introduction. the brown or norway rat (_mus norvegicus_) is the worst mammal pest in the united states, the losses from its depredations amounting to many millions of dollars yearly--to more, indeed, than the losses from all other injurious mammals combined.[a] in addition to its destructive habits, this rat is now known to be an active agent in disseminating infectious diseases, a fact which renders measures for its destruction doubly important. [footnote a: several species of rats are known as "house rats," including the black rat (_mus rattus_), the roof rat (_mus alexandrinus_), and the brown rat (_mus norvegicus_). of these, the last is the commonest and most widespread in this country. not one of these species is a native, but all were imported from the old world. as their habits in general are similar, the instructions given in the bulletin apply alike to all.] introduced into america about the year , the brown rat has supplanted and nearly exterminated its less robust relative, the black rat, and despite the incessant warfare of man has extended its range and steadily increased in numbers. its dominance is due to its great fecundity and its ability to adapt itself to all sorts of conditions. it breeds three or four times a year and produces from to , and even more, young at a litter. young females breed when only or months old. the species is practically omnivorous, feeding upon all kinds of animal and vegetable matter. it makes its home in the open field, the hedge row, and the river bank, as well as in stone walls, piers, and all kinds of buildings. it destroys grains when newly planted, while growing, and in the shock, stack, mow, crib, granary, mill, elevator, or ship's hold, and also in the bin and feed trough. it invades store and warehouse and destroys fur, laces, silks, carpets, leather goods, and groceries. it attacks fruits, vegetables, and meats in the markets, and destroys by pollution ten times as much as it actually eats. it carries disease germs from house to house and bubonic plague from city to city. it causes disastrous conflagrations; floods houses by gnawing lead water pipes; ruins artificial ponds and embankments by burrowing; destroys the farmers' pigs, eggs, and young poultry; eats the eggs and young of song and game birds; and damages foundations, floors, doors, and furnishings of dwellings. methods of destroying rats. a compilation of all the methods of destroying rats practiced in historic times would fill a volume. unfortunately, the greater number of them are worthless or impracticable. few have more than temporary effect upon their numbers, and even the best of them fail unless persistently applied. conditions vary so much that no one method of dealing with this pest is applicable in all cases. among the more important measures to be recommended for actively combating the brown rat are: ( ) poisons; ( ) traps; ( ) ferrets; ( ) fumigation, and ( ) rat-proof construction of buildings. poisoning. ~barium carbonate.~--one of the cheapest and most effective poisons for rats and mice is barium carbonate, or barytes. this mineral has the advantage of being without taste or smell; and, in the small quantities used in poisoning rats and mice, is harmless to larger animals. its action on rodents is slow, but reasonably sure, and has the further advantage that the animals before dying, if exit be possible, usually leave the premises in search of water. its employment in houses, therefore, is rarely followed by the annoying odor which attends the use of the more virulent poisons. the poison may be fed in the form of a dough made of one-fifth barytes and four-fifths meal, but a more convenient bait is ordinary oatmeal, with about one-eighth of its bulk of barytes, mixed with water into a stiff dough; or the barytes may be spread upon bread and butter or moistened toast. the prepared bait should be placed in rat runs, a small quantity at a place. if a single application of the poison fails to drive all rats from the premises, it should be repeated with a change of bait. ~strychnine.~--strychnine is a more virulent poison, but its action is so rapid that the animals often die upon the premises, a circumstance which prohibits its use in occupied dwellings. elsewhere strychnine may be employed with great success. dry strychnine crystals may be inserted in small pieces of raw meat, vienna sausage, or toasted cheese, and these placed in the rat runs; or oatmeal may be wet with a strychnine sirup, and small quantities laid out in the same way. strychnine sirup is prepared as follows: dissolve a half ounce of strychnia sulphate in a pint of boiling water; add a pint of thick sugar sirup and stir thoroughly. a smaller quantity of the poison may be prepared with a proportional quantity of water. in preparing the bait it is necessary that all the oatmeal should be moistened with sirup. wheat is the most convenient alternative bait. it should be soaked over night in the strychnine sirup. ~other poisons.~--the two poisons most commonly used for rats and mice are arsenic and phosphorus, nearly all commercial preparations containing one or the other as a basis. while experiments prove that rats have great powers of resistance to arsenic, it may sometimes be used advantageously as an alternative poison. preparations of phosphorus sold by druggists are often too weak to be effective; and home-made mixtures, when of sufficient strength, are dangerous, as rats may carry the baits into walls or crannies and thus cause fires. for these and other reasons the biological survey does not recommend preparations containing phosphorus. ~poison in the poultry house.~--for poisoning rats in buildings and yards occupied by poultry, the following method is recommended: two wooden boxes should be used, one considerably larger than the other, and each having two or more holes in the sides large enough to admit rats. the poisoned bait should be placed on the bottom and near the middle of the larger box, and the smaller box should then be inverted over it. rats thus have free access to the bait, but fowls are excluded. trapping. trapping, if persistently followed, is one of the most effective methods of destroying rats. the improved modern traps with a wire fall released by a baited trigger and driven by a coiled spring have marked advantages over the old forms, and many of them may be used at the same time. these traps, sometimes called guillotine traps, are of many designs, but the more simply constructed are to be preferred. probably those made entirely of metal are the best, as they are less likely to absorb and retain odors. in illustration of the effectiveness of traps, it may be related that a year or two ago a large department store in washington experienced heavy losses of gloves, lace curtains, and other merchandise from rat depredations. for several months the damages amounted to from $ to $ nightly. after many unsuccessful attempts to abate the nuisance the managers were advised to try the improved traps. as a result rats were killed during the first twenty nights, when the losses practically ceased, and the method has been continued in the store ever since with satisfactory results. guillotine traps should be baited with small pieces of vienna sausage (wienerwurst) or bacon. the trigger wire should be bent inward to bring the bait into proper position to permit the fall to strike the rat in the neck, as shown in the illustration (fig. ). other excellent baits for rats are oatmeal, toasted cheese, toasted bread (buttered), and sunflower or pumpkin seeds. when seed, grain, or meal is used with a guillotine trap, it may be placed on the trigger plate, or the trigger wire may be bent outward and the bait sprinkled under it. [illustration: fig. .--method of baiting guillotine trap.] wire cage traps (french) also are useful for catching rats, but in the long run the kinds recommended above are much more effective. while trapping, all other food should be removed and the trap bait should be changed often. rats are very suspicious, and baits and traps should be handled as little as possible. increased success may be secured both in trapping and poisoning if the rats are fed for a night or two with the kinds of food to be used for bait. use of ferrets and dogs. a ferret is useful for the purpose of driving rats out of burrows and other hiding places so that dogs can capture them. an experienced person with dogs and ferrets trained to work together can kill many rats when they are numerous. but the amateur ferreter is likely to be greatly disappointed. in the rice fields of the far east the natives build numerous piles of brush and rice straw and leave them for several days until many rats have taken shelter in them. a portable bamboo inclosure several feet in height is then set up around each pile in succession and the straw and brush are thrown out over the top while dogs and men kill the trapped rodents. large numbers are killed in this way, and the plan with modifications may be utilized in america with satisfactory results. a wire netting of fine mesh may be used for the inclosure. the scheme is applicable at the removal of grain, straw, or hay stacks, as well as brush piles. fumigation. rats may be destroyed in their burrows in the fields, and, still more important, in levees and rice-field dikes, by the use of carbon bisulphid. a wad of cotton or other absorbent material is saturated with the liquid and pushed into the burrow, the opening being packed with soil to prevent escape of the gas. all animals in the burrow are asphyxiated. fumigation about buildings is not so effective, as the gas can not readily be confined. rat-proof construction. the best way of excluding rats from buildings, whether in the city or country, is by the use of cement in construction. as the advantages of this material are coming to be generally understood, its use is rapidly extending to all kinds of building. dwellings, dairies, barns, stables, chicken houses, ice houses, bridges, dams, silos, tanks, cisterns, root-cellars, hotbeds, sidewalks, and curbs are now often made wholly of concrete. in constructing dwelling houses the additional cost of making the foundations rat-proof is slight as compared with the advantages. the cellar walls should have concrete footings and the walls themselves be laid in cement mortar. the cellar floor should be of "medium" rather than "lean" concrete, and all water and drain pipes should be surrounded with concrete. even an old cellar may be made rat-proof at comparatively small expense. rat holes may be permanently closed by a mixture of cement, sand, and broken glass or sharp bits of stone. rat-proof granaries, corncribs, and poultry houses may be constructed by a liberal use of concrete in the foundations and floors. rats, mice, and sparrows may be excluded from corncribs by the use of either an inner or an outer covering of fine-mesh wire netting sufficiently heavy to resist the teeth of rats. the common custom of setting corncribs upon posts with inverted pans at the top often fails because the posts are not long enough to insure that the lower cracks of the structure are beyond jumping reach of rats. the posts should project at least feet above the surface of the ground. natural enemies of rats. the value of carnivorous mammals and the larger birds of prey in destroying rats should be more fully recognized, especially by the farmer and the game preserver. chief among the animals that are useful in destroying these rodents are the fox, skunk, and weasel, and the larger species of owls and hawks. rats destroy more poultry and game, both eggs and young chicks, than all the birds and wild mammals named combined, yet some of our most useful birds of prey and carnivorous mammals are persecuted almost to the point of extinction. an enlightened public sentiment should cause the repeal of all bounties on these animals and afford protection to the majority of them. conclusions. by the persistent use of traps, occasional resort to poison, and the exercise of forethought in the construction of farm buildings so as to minimize the opportunities for harborage, farmers and others may prevent the greater part of the loss and annoyance they now experience from rat depredations. the same statement applies in great measure to city and village conditions. hence cooperation in the warfare on rats is particularly important and can not be too strongly urged. rat in the skull by rog phillips _some people will be shocked by this story. others will be deeply moved. everyone who reads it will be talking about it. read the first four pages: then put it down if you can._ [transcriber's note: this etext was produced from worlds of if science fiction, december . extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] dr. joseph macnare was not the sort of person one would expect him to be in the light of what happened. indeed, it is safe to say that until the summer of he was more "normal", better adjusted, than the average college professor. and we have every reason to believe that he remained so, in spite of having stepped out of his chosen field. at the age of thirty-four, he had to his credit a college textbook on advanced calculus, an introductory physics, and seventy-two papers that had appeared in various journals, copies of which were in neat order in a special section of the bookcase in his office at the university, and duplicate copies of which were in equally neat order in his office at home. none of these were in the field of psychology, the field in which he was shortly to become famous--or infamous. but anyone who studies the published writings of dr. macnare must inevitably conclude that he was a competent, responsible scientist, and a firm believer in institutional research, research by teams, rather than in private research and go-it-alone secrecy, the course he eventually followed. in fact, there is every reason to believe he followed this course with the greatest of reluctance, aware of its pitfalls, and that he took every precaution that was humanly possible. certainly, on that day in late august, , at the little cabin on the russian river, a hundred miles upstate from the university, when dr. macnare completed his paper on _an experimental approach to the psychological phenomena of verification_, he had no slightest thought of "going it alone." it was mid-afternoon. his wife, alice, was dozing on the small dock that stretched out into the water, her slim figure tanned a smooth brown that was just a shade lighter than her hair. their eight-year-old son, paul, was fifty yards upstream playing with some other boys, their shouts the only sound except for the whisper of rushing water and the sound of wind in the trees. dr. macnare, in swim trunks, his lean muscular body hardly tanned at all, emerged from the cabin and came out on the dock. "wake up, alice," he said, nudging her with his foot. "you have a husband again." "well, it's about time," alice said, turning over on her back and looking up at him, smiling in answer to his happy grin. he stepped over her and went out on the diving board, leaping up and down on it, higher and higher each time, in smooth coördination, then went into a one and a half gainer, his body cutting into the water with a minimum of splash. his head broke the surface. he looked up at his wife, and laughed in the sheer pleasure of being alive. a few swift strokes brought him to the foot of the ladder. he climbed, dripping water, to the dock, then sat down by his wife. "yep, it's done," he said. "how many days of our vacation left? two? that's time enough for me to get a little tan. might as well make the most of it. i'm going to be working harder this winter than i ever did in my life." "but i thought you said your paper was done!" "it is. but that's only the beginning. instead of sending it in for publication, i'm going to submit it to the directors, with a request for facilities and personnel to conduct a line of research based on pages twenty-seven to thirty-two of the paper." "and you think they'll grant your request?" "there's no question about it," dr. macnare said, smiling confidently. "it's the most important line of research ever opened up to experimental psychology. they'll be forced to grant my request. it will put the university on the map!" alice laughed, and sat up and kissed him. "maybe they won't agree with you," she said. "is it all right for me to read the paper?" "i wish you would," he said. "where's that son of mine? upstream?" he leaped to his feet and went to the diving board again. "better walk along the bank, joe. the stream is too swift." "nonsense!" dr. macnare said. he made a long shallow dive, then began swimming in a powerful crawl that took him upstream slowly. alice stood on the dock watching him until he was lost to sight around the bend, then went into the cabin. the completed paper lay beside the typewriter. * * * * * alice had her doubts. "i'm not so sure the board will approve of this," she said. dr. macnare, somewhat exasperated, said, "what makes you think that? pavlov experimented with his dog, physiological experiments with rats, rabbits, and other animals go on all the time. there's nothing cruel about it." "just the same...." alice said. so dr. macnare cautiously resisted the impulse to talk about his paper with his fellow professors and his most intelligent students. instead, he merely turned his paper in to the board at the earliest opportunity and kept silent, waiting for their decision. he hadn't long to wait. on the last friday of september he received a note requesting his presence in the board room at three o'clock on monday. he rushed home after his last class and told alice about it. "let's hope their decision is favorable," she said. "it has to be," dr. macnare answered with conviction. he spent the week-end making plans. "they'll probably assign me a machinist and a couple of electronics experts from the hill," he told alice. "i can use graduate students for work with the animals. i hope they give me dr. munitz from psych as a consultant, because i like him much better than veerhof. by early spring we should have things rolling." monday at three o'clock on the dot, dr. macnare knocked on the door of the board room, and entered. he was not unfamiliar with it, nor with the faces around the massive walnut conference table. always before he had known what to expect--a brief commendation for the revisions in his textbook on calculus for its fifth printing, a nice speech from the president about his good work as a prelude to a salary raise--quiet, expected things. nothing unanticipated had ever happened here. now, as he entered, he sensed a difference. all eyes were fixed on him, but not with admiration or friendliness. they were fixed more in the manner of a restaurateur watching the approach of a cockroach along the surface of the counter. suddenly the room seemed hot and stuffy. the confidence in dr. macnare's expression evaporated. he glanced back toward the door as though wishing to escape. "so it's _you_!" the president said, setting the tone of what followed. "this is _yours_?" the president added, picking up the neatly typed manuscript, glancing at it, and dropping it back on the table as though it were something unclean. dr. macnare nodded, and cleared his throat nervously to say yes, but didn't get the chance. "we--all of us--are amazed and shocked," the president said. "of course, we understand that psychology is not your field, and you probably were thinking only from the mathematical viewpoint. we are agreed on that. what you propose, though...." he shook his head slowly. "it's not only out of the question, but i'm afraid i'm going to have to request that you forget the whole thing--put this paper where no one can see it, preferably destroy it. i'm sorry, dr. macnare, but the university simply cannot afford to be associated with such a thing even remotely. i'll put it bluntly because i feel strongly about it, as do the other members of the board. _if this paper is published or in any way comes to light, we will be forced to request your resignation from the faculty._" "but why?" dr. macnare asked in complete bewilderment. "why?" another board member exploded, slapping the table. "it's the most inhuman thing i ever heard of, strapping a newborn animal onto some kind of frame and tying its legs to control levers, with the intention of never letting it free. the most fiendish and inhuman torture imaginable! if you didn't have such an outstanding record i would be for demanding your resignation at once." "but that's not true!" dr. macnare said. "it's not torture! not in any way! didn't you read the paper? didn't you understand that--" "i read it," the man said. "we all read it. every word." "then you should have understood--" dr. macnare said. "we read it," the man repeated, "and we discussed some aspects of it with dr. veerhof without bringing your paper into it, nor your name." "oh," dr. macnare said. "veerhof...." "he says experiments, very careful experiments, have already been conducted along the lines of getting an animal to understand a symbol system and it can't be done. the nerve paths aren't there. your line of research, besides being inhumanly cruel, would accomplish nothing." "oh," dr. macnare said, his eyes flashing. "so you know all about the results of an experiment in an untried field without performing the experiments!" "according to dr. veerhof that field is not untried but rather well explored," the board member said. "giving an animal the means to make vocal sounds would not enable it to form a symbol system." "i disagree," dr. macnare said, seething. "my studies indicate clearly--" "i think," the president said with a firmness that demanded the floor, "our position has been made very clear, dr. macnare. the matter is now closed. permanently. i hope you will have the good sense, if i may use such a strong term, to forget the whole thing. for the good of your career and your very nice wife and son. that is all." he held the manuscript toward dr. macnare. * * * * * "i can't understand their attitude!" dr. macnare said to alice when he told her about it. "possibly i can understand it a little better than you, joe," alice said thoughtfully. "i had a little of what i think they feel, when i first read your paper. a--a prejudice against the idea of it, is as closely as i can describe it. like it would be violating the order of nature, giving an animal a soul, in a way." "then you feel as they do?" dr. macnare said. "i didn't say that, joe." alice put her arms around her husband and kissed him fiercely. "maybe i feel just the opposite, that if there is some way to give an animal a soul, we should do it." dr. macnare chuckled. "it wouldn't be quite that cosmic. an animal can't be given something it doesn't have already. all that can be done is to give it the means to fully capitalize on what it has. animals--man included--can only do by observing the results. when you move a finger, what you really do is send a neural impulse out from the brain along one particular nerve or one particular set of nerves, but you can never learn that, nor just what it is you do. all that you can know is that when you do a definite _something_ your eyes and sense of touch bring you the information that your finger moved. but if that finger were attached to a voice element that made the sound _ah_, and you could never see your finger, all you could ever know is that when you did that particular _something_ you made a certain vocal sound. changing the resultant effect of mental commands to include things normally impossible to you may expand the potential of your mind, but it won't give you a soul if you don't have one to begin with." "you're using veerhof's arguments on me," alice said. "and i think we're arguing from separate definitions of a soul. i'm afraid of it, joe. it would be a tragedy, i think, to give some animal--a rat, maybe--the soul of a poet, and then have it discover that it is only a rat." "oh," dr. macnare said. "_that_ kind of soul. no, i'm not that optimistic about the results. i think we'd be lucky to get any results at all, a limited vocabulary that the animal would use meaningfully. but i do think we'd get that." "it would take a lot of time and patience." "and we'd have to keep the whole thing secret from everyone," dr. macnare said. "we couldn't even let paul have an inkling of it, because he might say something to one of his playmates, and it would get back to some member of the board. how could we keep it secret from paul?" "paul knows he's not allowed in your study," alice said. "we could keep everything there--and keep the door locked." "then it's settled?" "wasn't it, from the very beginning?" alice put her arms around her husband and her cheek against his ear to hide her worried expression. "i love you, joe. i'll help you in any way i can. and if we haven't enough in the savings account, there's always what mother left me." "i hope we won't have to use any of it, sweetheart," he said. the following day dr. macnare was an hour and a half late coming home from the campus. he had been, he announced casually, to a pet store. "we'll have to hurry," said alice. "paul will be home any minute." she helped him carry the packages from the car to the study. together they moved things around to make room for the gleaming new cages with their white rats and hamsters and guinea pigs. when it was done they stood arm in arm viewing their new possession. * * * * * to alice macnare, just the presence of the animals in her husband's study brought the research project into reality. as the days passed that romantic feeling became fact. "we're going to have to do together," joe macnare told her at the end of the first week, "what a team of a dozen specialists in separate fields should be doing. our first job, before we can do anything else, is to study the natural movements of each species and translate them into patterns of robot directives." "robot directives?" "i visualize it this way," dr. macnare said. "the animal will be strapped comfortably in a frame so that its body can't move but its legs can. its legs will be attached to four separate, free-moving levers which make a different electrical contact for every position. each electrical contact, or control switch, will cause the robot body to do one specific thing, such as move a leg, utter some particular sound through its voice box, or move just one finger. can you visualize that, alice?" alice nodded. "okay. now, one leg has to be used for nothing but voice sounds. that leaves three legs for control of the movements of the robot body. in body movement there will be simultaneous movements and sequences. a simple sequence can be controlled by one leg. all movements of the robot will have to be reduced to not more than three concurrent sequences of movement of the animal's legs. our problem, then, is to make the unlearned and the most natural movements of the legs of the animal control the robot body's movements in a functional manner." endless hours were consumed in this initial study and mapping. alice worked at it while her husband was at the university and paul was at school. dr. macnare rushed home each day to go over what she had done and continue the work himself. he grew more and more grudging of the time his classes took. in december he finally wrote to the three technical journals that had been expecting papers from him for publication during the year that he would be too busy to do them. by january the initial phase of research was well enough along so that dr. macnare could begin planning the robot. for this he set up a workshop in the garage. in early february he finished what he called the "test frame." after paul had gone to bed, dr. macnare brought the test frame into the study from the garage. to alice it looked very much like the insides of a radio. she watched while he placed a husky-looking male white rat in the body harness fastened to the framework of aluminum and tied its legs to small metal rods. nothing happened except that the rat kept trying to get free, and the small metal rods tied to its feet kept moving in pivot sockets. "now!" dr. macnare said excitedly, flicking a small toggle switch on the side of the assembly. immediately a succession of vocal sounds erupted from the speaker. they followed one another, making no sensible word. "_he's_ doing that," dr. macnare said triumphantly. "if we left him in that, do you think he'd eventually associate his movements with the sounds?" "it's possible. but that would be more on the order of what we do when we drive a car. to some extent a car becomes an extension of the body, but you're always aware that your hands are on the steering wheel, your foot on the gas pedal or brake. you extend your awareness consciously. you interpret a slight tremble in the steering wheel as a shimmy in the front wheels. you're oriented primarily to your body and only secondarily to the car as an extension of you." alice closed her eyes for a moment. "mm hm," she said. "and that's the best we could get, using a rat that knows already it's a rat." alice stared at the struggling rat, her eyes round with comprehension, while the loudspeaker in the test frame said, "ag-pr-ds-raf-os-dg...." dr. macnare shut off the sound and began freeing the rat. "by starting with a newborn animal and never letting it know what it is," he said, "we can get a complete extension of the animal into the machine, in its orientation. so complete that if you took it out of the machine after it grew up, it would have no more idea of what had happened than--than your brain if it were taken out of your head and put on a table!" "now i'm getting that _feeling_ again, joe," alice said, laughing nervously. "when you said that about my brain i thought, 'or my soul?'" dr. macnare put the rat back in its cage. "there might be a valid analogy there," he said slowly. "if we have a soul that survives after death, what is it like? it probably interprets its surroundings in terms of its former orientation in the body." "that's a little of what i mean," alice said. "i can't help it, joe. sometimes i feel so sorry for whatever baby animal you'll eventually use, that i want to cry. i feel so sorry for it, because _we will never dare let it know what it really is_!" "that's true. which brings up another line of research that should be the work of one expert on the team i ought to have for this. as it is, i'll turn it over to you to do while i build the robot." "what's that?" "opiates," dr. macnare said. "what we want is an opiate that can be used on a small animal every few days, so that we can take it out of the robot, bathe it, and put it back again without its knowing about it. there probably is no ideal drug. we'll have to test the more promising ones." later that night, as they lay beside each other in the silence and darkness of their bedroom, dr. macnare sighed deeply. "so many problems," he said. "i sometimes wonder if we can solve them all. _see_ them all...." to alice macnare, later, that night in early february marked the end of the first phase of research--the point where two alternative futures hung in the balance, and either could have been taken. that night she might have said, there in the darkness, "let's drop it," and her husband might have agreed. she thought of saying it. she even opened her mouth to say it. but her husband's soft snores suddenly broke the silence of the night. the moment of return had passed. * * * * * month followed month. to alice it was a period of rushing from kitchen to hypodermic injections to vacuum cleaner to hypodermic injections, her key to the study in constant use. paul, nine years old now, took to spring baseball and developed an indifference to tv, much to the relief of both his parents. in the garage workshop dr. macnare made parts for the robot, and kept a couple of innocent projects going which he worked on when his son paul evinced his periodic curiosity about what was going on. spring became summer. for six weeks paul went to scout camp, and during those six weeks dr. macnare reorganized the entire research project in line with what it would be in the fall. a decision was made to use only white rats from then on. the rest of the animals were sold to a pet store, and a system for automatically feeding, watering, and keeping the cages clean was installed in preparation for a much needed two weeks' vacation at the cabin. when the time came to go, they had to tear themselves away from their work by an effort of will--aided by the realization that they could get little done with paul underfoot. september came all too soon. by mid-september both dr. macnare and his wife felt they were on the home stretch. parts of the robot were going together and being tested, the female white rats were being bred at the rate of one a week so that when the robot was completed there would be a supply of newborn rats on hand. october came, and passed. the robot was finished, but there were minor defects in it that had to be corrected. "adam," dr. macnare said one day, "will have to wear this robot all his life. it has to be just right." and with each litter of baby rats alice said, "i wonder which one is adam." they talked of adam often now, speculating on what he would be like. it was almost, they decided, as though adam were their second child. and finally, on november , , everything was ready. adam would be born in the next litter, due in about three days. * * * * * the amount of work that had gone into preparation for the great moment is beyond conception. four file cabinet drawers were filled with notes. by actual measurement seventeen feet of shelf space was filled with books on the thousand and one subjects that had to be mastered. the robot itself was a masterpiece of engineering that would have done credit to the research staff of a watch manufacturer. the vernier adjustments alone, used to compensate daily for the rat's growth, had eight patentable features. and the skills that had had to be acquired! alice, who had never before had a hypodermic syringe in her hand, could now inject a precisely measured amount of opiate into the tiny body of a baby rat with calm confidence in her skill. after such monumental preparation, the great moment itself was anticlimactic. while the mother of adam was still preoccupied with the birth of the remainder of the brood, adam, a pink helpless thing about the size of a little finger, was picked up and transfered to the head of the robot. his tiny feet, which he would never know existed, were fastened with gentle care to the four control rods. his tiny head was thrust into a helmet attached to a pivot-mounted optical system, ending in the lenses that served the robot for eyes. and finally a transparent plastic cover contoured to the shape of the back of a human head was fastened in place. through it his feeble attempts at movement could be easily observed. thus, dr. macnare's adam was born into his body, and the time of the completion of his birth was one-thirty in the afternoon on the fifth day of november, . in the ensuing half hour all the cages of rats were removed from the study, the floor was scrubbed, and deodorizers were sprayed, so that no slightest trace of adam's lowly origins remained. when this was done, dr. macnare loaded the cages into his car and drove them to a pet store that had agreed to take them. when he returned, he joined alice in the study, and at five minutes before four, with alice hovering anxiously beside him, he opened the cover on adam's chest and turned on the master switch that gave adam complete dominion over his robot body. adam was beautiful--and monstrous. made of metal from the neck down, but shaped to be covered by padding and skin in human semblance. from the neck up the job was done. the face was human, masculine, handsome, much like that of a clothing store dummy except for its mobility of expression, and the incongruity of the rest of the body. the voice-control lever and contacts had been designed so that the ability to produce most sounds would have to be discovered by adam as he gained control of his natural right front leg. now the only sounds being uttered were _oh_, _ah_, _mm_, and _ll_, in random order. similarly, the only movements of his arms and legs were feeble, like those of a human baby. the tremendous strength in his limbs was something he would be unable to tap fully until he had learned conscious coördination. after a while adam became silent and without movement. alarmed, dr. macnare opened the instrument panel in the abdomen. the instruments showed that adam's pulse and respiration were normal. he had fallen asleep. dr. macnare and his wife stole softly from the study, and locked the door. * * * * * after a few days, with the care and feeding of adam all that remained of the giant research project, the pace of the days shifted to that of long-range patience. "it's just like having a baby," alice said. "you know something?" dr. macnare asked. "i've had to resist passing out cigars. i hate to say it, but i'm prouder of adam than i was of paul when he was born." "so am i, joe," alice said quietly. "but i'm getting a little of that scared feeling back again." "in what way?" "he watches me. oh, i know it's natural for him to, but i do wish you had made the eyes so that his own didn't show as little dark dots in the center of the iris." "it couldn't be helped," dr. macnare said. "he has to be able to see, and i had to set up the system of mirrors so that the two axes of vision would be three inches apart as they are in the average human pair of eyes." "oh, i know," said alice. "probably it's just something i've seized on. but when he watches me, i find myself holding my breath in fear that he can read in my expression the secret we have to keep from him, that he is a rat." "forget it, alice. that's outside his experience and beyond his comprehension." "i know," alice sighed. "when he begins to show some of the signs of intelligence a baby has, i'll be able to think of him as a human being." "sure, darling," dr. macnare said. "do you think he ever will?" "that," dr. macnare said, "is the big question. i think he will. i think so now even more than i did at the start. aside from eating and sleeping, he has no avenue of expression except his robot body, and _no source of reward except that of making sense--human sense_." the days passed, and became weeks, then months. during the daytime when her husband was at the university and her son was at school, alice would spend most of her hours with adam, forcing herself to smile at him and talk to him as she had to paul when he was a baby. but when she watched his motions through the transparent back of his head, his leg motions remained those of attempted walking and attempted running. then, one day when adam was four months old, things changed--as abruptly as the turning on of a light. the unrewarding walking and running movements of adam's little legs ceased. it was evening, and both dr. macnare and his wife were there. for a few seconds there was no sound or movement from the robot body. then, quite deliberately, adam said, "ah." "ah," dr. macnare echoed. "mm, mm, ah. ma-ma." "mm," adam said. the silence in the study became absolute. the seconds stretched into eternities. then-- "mm, ah," adam said. "mm, ah." alice began crying with happiness. "mm, ah," adam said. "mm, ah. ma-ma. mamamamama." then, as though the effort had been too much for adam, he went to sleep. * * * * * having achieved the impossible, adam seemed to lose interest in it. for two days he uttered nothing more than an occasional involuntary syllable. "i would call that as much of an achievement as speech itself," dr. macnare said to his wife. "his right front leg has asserted its independence. if each of his other three legs can do as well, he can control the robot body." it became obvious that adam was trying. though the movements of his body remained non-purposive, the pauses in those movements became more and more pregnant with what was obviously mental effort. during that period there was of course room for argument and speculation about it, and even a certain amount of humor. had adam's right front leg, at the moment of achieving meaningful speech, suffered a nervous breakdown? what would a psychiatrist have to say about a white rat that had a nervous breakdown in its right front leg? "the worst part about it," dr. macnare said to his wife, "is that if he fails to make it he'll have to be killed. he can't have permanent frustration forced onto him, and, by now, returning him to his natural state would be even worse." "and he has such a stout little heart," alice said. "sometimes when he looks at me i'm sure he knows what is happening and he wants me to know he's trying." when they went to bed that night they were more discouraged than they had ever been. eventually they slept. when the alarm went off, alice slipped into her robe and went into the study first, as she always did. a moment later she was back in the bedroom, shaking her husband's shoulder. "joe!" she whispered. "wake up! come into the study!" he leaped out of bed and rushed past her. she caught up with him and pulled him to a stop. "take it easy, joe," she said. "don't alarm him." "oh." dr. macnare relaxed. "i thought something had happened." "something has!" they stopped in the doorway of the study. dr. macnare sucked in his breath sharply, but remained silent. adam seemed oblivious of their presence. he was too interested in something else. he was interested in his hands. he was holding his hands up where he could see them, and he was moving them independently, clenching and unclenching the metal fingers with slow deliberation. suddenly the movement stopped. he had become aware of them. then, impossibly, unbelievably, he spoke. "ma ma," adam said. then, "pa pa." "adam!" alice sobbed, rushing across the study to him and sinking down beside him. her arms went around his metal body. "oh, adam," she cried happily. * * * * * it was the beginning. the date of that beginning is not known. alice macnare believes it was early in may, but more probably it was in april. there was no time to keep notes. in fact, there was no longer a research project nor any thought of one. instead, there was adam, the person. at least, to alice he became that, completely. perhaps, also, to dr. macnare. dr. macnare quite often stood behind adam where he could watch the rat body through the transparent skull case while alice engaged adam's attention. alice did the same, at times, but she finally refused to do so any more. the sight of adam the rat, his body held in a net attached to the frame, his head covered by the helmet, his four legs moving independently of one another with little semblance of walking or running motion nor even of coördination, but with swift darting motions and pauses pregnant with meaning, brought back to alice the old feeling of vague fear, and a tremendous surge of pity for adam that made her want to cry. slowly, subtly, adam's rat body became to alice a pure brain, and his legs four nerve ganglia. a brain covered with short white fur; and when she took him out of his harness under opiate to bathe him, she bathed him as gently and carefully as any brain surgeon sponging a cortical surface. once started, adam's mental development progressed rapidly. dr. macnare began making notes again on june , , just ten days before the end, and it is to these notes that we go for an insight into adam's mind. on june th dr. macnare wrote, "i am of the opinion that adam will never develop beyond the level of a moron, in the scale of human standards. he would probably make a good factory worker or chauffeur, in a year or two. but he is consciously aware of himself as adam, he thinks in words and simple sentences with an accurate understanding of their meaning, and he is able to do new things from spoken instructions. there is no question, therefore, but that he has an integrated mind, entirely human in every respect." on june th dr. macnare wrote, "something is developing which i hesitate to put down on paper--for a variety of reasons. creating adam was a scientific experiment, nothing more than that. both the premises on which the project was based have been proven: that the principle of verification is the main factor in learned response, and that, given the proper conditions, some animals are capable of abstract symbol systems and therefore of thinking with words to form meaningful concepts. "nothing more was contemplated in the experiment. i stress this because--adam is becoming deeply religious--and before any mistaken conclusions are drawn from this i will explain what caused this development. it was an oversight of a type that is bound to happen in any complex project. "alice's experimental data on the effects of opiates, and especially the data on increasing the dose to offset growing tolerance, were based on observation of the subject alone, without any knowledge of the mental aspects of increased tolerance--which would of course be impossible except with human subjects. "unknown to us, adam has been becoming partly conscious during his bath. just conscious enough to be vaguely aware of certain sensations, and to remember them afterward. few, if any, of these half remembered sensations are such that he can fit them into the pattern of his waking reality. "the one that has had the most pronounced influence on him is, to quote him, 'feel clean inside. feel good.' quite obviously this sensation is caused by his bath. "with it is a distinct feeling of disembodiment, of being--and these are his own words--'outside my body'! this, of course, is an accurate realization, because to him the robot is his body, and he knows nothing of the existence of his actual, living, rat body. "in addition to these two effects, there is a third one. a feeling of walking, and sometimes of floating, of stumbling over things he can't see, of talking, of being talked to by disembodied voices. "the explanation of this is also obvious. when he is being bathed his legs are moved about. any movement of a leg is to him either a spoken sound or a movement of some part of his robot body. any movement of his right front leg, for example, tells his mind that he is making a sound. but, since his leg is not connected to the sound system of his robot body, his ears bring no physical verification of the sound. the mental anticipation of that verification then becomes a disembodied voice to him. "the end result of all this is that adam is becoming convinced that there is a hidden side of things (which there is), and that it is supernatural (which it is, _in the framework of his orientation_). "what we are going to have to do is make sure he is completely unconscious before taking him out and bathing him. his mental health is far more important than exploring the interesting avenues opened up by this unforeseen development. "i do intend, however, to make one simple test, while he is fully awake, before dropping this avenue of investigation." dr. macnare does not state in his notes what this test was to be: but his wife says that it probably refers to the time when he pinched adam's tail and adam complained of a sudden, violent headache. this transference is the one well known to doctors. unoriented pain in the human body manifests itself as a "headache," when the source of the pain is actually the stomach, or the liver, or any one of a hundred spots in the body. the last notes made by dr. macnare were those of june , , and are unimportant except for the date. we return, therefore, to actual events, so far as they can be reconstructed. we have said little or nothing about dr. macnare's life at the university after embarking on the research project, nor of the social life of the macnares. as conspirators, they had kept up their social life to avoid any possibility of the board getting curious about any radical change in dr. macnare's habits; but as time went on both dr. macnare and his wife became so engrossed in their project that only with the greatest reluctance did they go anywhere. the annual faculty party at professor long's on june th was something they could not evade. not to have gone would have been almost tantamount to a resignation from the university. "besides," alice had said when they discussed the matter in may, "isn't it about time to do a little hinting that you have something up your sleeve?" "i don't know, alice," dr. macnare had said. then a smile quirked his lips and he said, "i wouldn't mind telling off veerhof. i've never gotten over his deciding something was impossible without enough data to pass judgment." he frowned. "we are going to have to let the world know about adam pretty soon, aren't we? that's something i haven't thought about. but not yet. next fall will be time enough." * * * * * "don't forget, joe," alice said at dinner. "tonight's the party at professor long's." "how can i forget with you reminding me?" dr. macnare said, winking at his son. "and you, paul," alice said. "i don't want you leaving the house. you understand? you can watch tv, and i want you in bed by nine thirty." "ah, mom!" paul protested. "nine thirty?" he suppressed a grin. he had a party of his own planned. "and you can wipe the dishes for me. we have to be at professor long's by eight o'clock." "i'll help you," dr. macnare said. "no, you have to get ready. besides don't you have to look up something for one of the faculty?" "i'd forgotten," said dr. macnare. "thanks for reminding me." after dinner he went directly to the study. adam was sitting on the floor playing with his wooden blocks. they were alphabet blocks, but he didn't know that yet. the summer project was going to be teaching him the alphabet. already, though, he preferred placing them in straight rows rather than stacking them up. at seven o'clock alice rapped on the door to the study. "time to get dressed, joe," she called. "you'll be all right while we're gone, adam?" dr. macnare said. "i be all right, papa," adam said. "i sleep." "that's good," dr. macnare said. "i'll turn out the light." at the door he waited until adam had sat down in the chair he always slept on, and settled himself. then he pushed the switch just to the right of the door and went out. "hurry, dear," alice called. "i'm hurrying," dr. macnare protested--and, for the first time, he forgot to lock the study door. the bathroom was next to the study, the wall between them soundproofed by a ceiling-high bookshelf in the study filled with thousands of books. on the other side was the master bedroom, with a closet with sliding panels that opened both on the bedroom and the bathroom. these sliding panels were partly open, so that dr. macnare and alice could talk. "did you lock the study door?" "of course," dr. macnare said. "but i'll check before we leave." "how is adam taking being alone tonight?" alice called. "okay," dr. macnare said. "damn!" "what's the matter, joe?" "i forgot to get razor blades." the conversation died down. alice macnare finished dressing. "aren't you ready yet, joe?" she called. "it's almost a quarter to eight." "be right with you. i nicked myself shaving with an old blade. the bleeding's almost stopped now." alice went into the living room. paul had turned on the tv and was sprawled out on the rug. "you be sure and stay home, and be in bed by nine thirty, paul," she said. "promise?" "ah, mom," he protested. "well, all right." dr. macnare came into the room, still working on his tie. a moment later they went out the front door. they had been gone less than five minutes when there was a knock. paul jumped to his feet and opened the door. "hi, fred, tony, bill," he said. the boys, all nine years old, sprawled on the rug and watched television. it became eight o'clock, eight thirty, and finally five minutes to nine. the commercial began. "where's your bathroom?" tony asked. "in there," paul said, pointing vaguely at the doorway to the hall. tony got up off the floor and went into the hall. he saw several doors, all looking much alike. he picked one and opened it. it was dark inside. he felt along the wall for a light switch and found it. light flooded the room. he stared at what he saw for perhaps ten seconds, then turned and ran down the hall to the living room. "say, paul!" he said. "you never said anything about having a real honest to gosh robot!" "what are you talking about?" paul said. "in that room in there!" tony said. "come on. i'll show you!" the tv program forgotten, paul, fred, and bill crowded after him. a moment later they stood in the doorway to the study, staring in awe at the strange figure of metal that sat motionless in a chair across the room. adam, it seems certain, was asleep, and had not been wakened by this intrusion nor the turning on of the light. "gee!" paul said. "it belongs to dad. we'd better get out of here." "naw," tony said with a feeling of proprietorship at having been the original discoverer. "let's take a look. he'll never know about it." they crossed the room slowly, until they were close up to the robot figure, marveling at it, moving around it. "say!" bill whispered, pointing. "what's that in there? it looks like a white rat with its head stuck into that kind of helmet thing." they stared at it a moment. "maybe it's dead. let's see." "how you going to find out?" "see those hinges on the cover?" tony said importantly. "watch." with cautious skill he opened the transparent back half of the dome, and reached in, wrapping his fingers around the white rat. he was unable to get it loose, but he succeeded in pulling its head free of the helmet. at the same time adam awoke. "ouch!" tony cried, jerking his hand away. "he bit me!" "he's alive all right," bill said. "look at him glare!" he prodded the body of the rat and pulled his hand away quickly as the rat lunged. "gee, look at its eyes," paul said nervously. "they're getting blood-shot." "dirty old rat!" tony said vindictively, jabbing at the rat with his finger and evading the snapping teeth. "get its head back in there!" paul said desperately. "i don't want papa to find out we were in here!" he reached in, driven by desperation, pressing the rat's head between his fingers and forcing it back into the tight fitting helmet. immediately screaming sounds erupted from the lips of the robot. (it was determined by later examination that only when the rat's body was completely where it should be were the circuits operable.) "let's get out of here!" tony shouted, and dived for the door, thereby saving his life. "yeah! let's get out of here!" fred shouted as the robot figure rose to its feet. terror enabled him to escape. bill and paul delayed an instant too long. metal fingers seized them. bill's arm snapped halfway between shoulder and elbow. he screamed with pain and struggled to free himself. paul was unable to scream. metal fingers gripped his shoulder, with a metal thumb thrust deeply against his larynx, paralyzing his vocal cords. fred and tony had run into the front room. there they waited, ready to start running again. they could hear bill's screams. they could hear a male voice jabbering nonsense, and finally repeating over and over again, "oh my, oh my, oh my," in a tone all the more horrible because it portrayed no emotion whatever. then there was silence. the silence lasted several minutes. then bill began to sniffle, rubbing his knuckles in his eyes. "i wanta go home," he whimpered. "me too." they took each other's hand and tiptoed to the front door, watching the open doorway to the hall. when they reached the front door tony opened it, and when it was open they ran, not stopping to close the door behind them. * * * * * there isn't much more to tell. it is known that tony and bill arrived at their respective homes, saying nothing of what had happened. only later did they come forward and admit their share in the night's events. joe and alice macnare arrived home from the party at professor long's at twelve thirty, finding the front door wide open, the lights on in the living room, and the television on. sensing that something was wrong, alice hurried to her son's room and discovered he wasn't there. while she was doing that, joe shut the front door and turned off the television. alice returned to the living room, eyes round with alarm, and said, "paul's not in his room!" "adam!" joe croaked, and rushed into the hallway, with alice following more slowly. she reached the open door of the study in time to see the robot figure pounce on joe and fasten its metal fingers about his throat, crushing vertebrae and flesh alike. oblivious to her own danger, she rushed to rescue her already dead husband, but the metal fingers were inflexible. belatedly she abandoned the attempt and ran into the hallway to the phone. when the police arrived, they found her slumped against the wall in the hallway. she pointed toward the open doorway of the study, without speaking. the police rushed into the study. at once there came the sounds of shots. dozens of them, it seemed. later both policemen admitted that they lost their heads and fired until their guns were empty. but it was not yet the end of adam. it would perhaps be impossible to conceive the full horror of his last hours, but we can at least make a guess. asleep when the boys entered the study, he awakened to a world he had never before perceived except very vaguely and under the soporific veil of opiate. but it was a world vastly different even than that. there is no way of knowing what he saw--probably blurred ghostly figures, monstrous beyond the ability of his mind to grasp, for his eyes were adjusted only to the series of prisms and lenses that enabled him to see and coördinate the images brought to him through the eyes of the robot. he saw these impossible figures, he felt pain and torture that were not of the flesh as he knew it, but of the spirit; agony beyond agony administered by what he could only believe were fiends from some nether hell. and then, abruptly, as ten-year-old paul shoved his head back into the helmet, the world he had come to believe was reality returned. it was as though he had returned to the body from some awful pit of hell, with the soul sickness still with him. before him he saw four human-like figures of reality, but beings unlike the only two he had ever seen. smaller, seeming to be a part of the unbelievable nightmare he had been in. two of them fled, two were within his grasp. perhaps he didn't know what he was doing when he killed paul and bill. it's doubtful if he had the ability to think at all then, only to tremble and struggle in his pitiful little rat body, with the automatic mechanisms of the robot acting from those frantic motions. but it is known that there were three hours between the deaths of the two boys and the entry of dr. macnare at twelve thirty, and during those three hours he would have had a chance to recover, and to think, and to partially rationalize the nightmare he had experienced in realms outside what to him was the world of reality. adam must certainly have been calm enough, rational enough, to recognize dr. macnare when he entered the study at twelve thirty. then why did adam deliberately kill joe by breaking his neck? was it because, in that three hours, he had put together the evidence of his senses and come to the realization that he was not a man but a rat? it's not likely. it is much more likely that adam came to some aberrated conclusion dictated by the superstitious feelings that had grown so strongly into his strange and unique existence, that dictated he must kill joseph. for it would have been impossible for him to have realized that he was only a rat. you see, joseph macnare had taken great care that adam never, in all his life, should see _another_ rat. * * * * * there remains only the end of adam to relate. physically it can be only anticlimactic. with his metal body out of commission from a dozen or so shots, two of which destroyed the robot extensions of his eyes, he remained helpless until the coroner carefully removed him. to the coroner he was just a white rat, and a strangely helpless one, unable to walk or stand as rats are supposed to. also a strangely vicious one, with red little beads of eyes and lips drawn back from sharp teeth the same as some rabid wild animal. the coroner had no way of knowing that somewhere in that small, menacing form there was a noble but lost mentality that knew itself as adam, and held thoughts of a strange and wonderful realm of peace and splendor beyond the grasp of the normal physical senses. the coroner could not know that the erratic motions of that small left front foot, if connected to the proper mechanisms, would have been audible as, perhaps, a prayer, a desperate plea to whatever lay in the great beyond to come down and rescue its humble creature. "vicious little bastard," the coroner said nervously to the homicide men gathered around dr. macnare's desk. "let me take care of it," said one of the detectives. "no," the coroner answered. "i'll do it." quickly, so as not to be bitten, he picked adam up by the tip of the tail and slammed him forcefully against the top of the desk. [transcriber's note: the following suspected errors have been changed in this text: page : "highdays" changed to "highways" page : "abbatoirs" changed to "abattoirs" page : added missing "." to "fig. ."] page : added missing "." to "fig. ."] house rats and mice david e. lantz assistant biologist [illustration] farmers' bulletin united states department of agriculture * * * * * contribution from the bureau of biological survey e. w. nelson, chief washington, d. c. october, show this bulletin to a neighbor. additional copies may be obtained free from the division of publications, united states department of agriculture washington: government printing office: the rat is the worst animal pest in the world. from its home among filth it visits dwellings and storerooms to pollute and destroy human food. it carries bubonic plague and many other diseases fatal to man and has been responsible for more untimely deaths among human beings than all the wars of history. in the united states rats and mice each year destroy crops and other property valued at over $ , , . this destruction is equivalent to the gross earnings of an army of over , men. on many a farm, if the grain eaten and wasted by rats and mice could be sold, the proceeds would more than pay all the farmer's taxes. the common brown rat breeds to times a year and produces an average of young at a litter. young females breed when only three or four months old. at this rate a pair of rats, breeding uninterruptedly and without deaths, would at the end of three years ( generations) be increased to , , individuals. for centuries the world has been fighting rats without organization and at the same time has been feeding them and building for them fortresses for concealment. if we are to fight them on equal terms we must deny them food and hiding places. we must organize and unite to rid communities of these pests. the time to begin is now. house rats and mice. contents. page. destructive habits protection of food and other stores rat-proof building keeping food from rats and mice destroying rats and mice traps poisons domestic animals fumigation rat viruses natural enemies organized efforts to destroy rats community efforts state and national aid important repressive measures destructive habits of house rats and mice. losses from depredations of house rats amount to many millions of dollars yearly--to more, in fact, than those from all other injurious mammals combined. the common house mouse[ ] and the brown rat[ ] (fig. ), too familiar to need description, are pests in nearly all parts of the country; while two other kinds of house rats, known as the black rat[ ] and the roof rat,[ ] are found within our borders. [illustration: fig. .--brown rat.] of these four introduced species--for none is native to america--the brown rat is the most destructive, and, except the mouse, the most numerous and most widely distributed. brought to america just before the revolution, it has supplanted and nearly exterminated its less robust relative the black rat; and in spite of the constant warfare of man has extended its range and steadily increased in numbers. its dominance is due to its great fecundity and its ability to adapt itself to all sorts of surroundings. it breeds (in the middle part of the united states) six or more times a year and produces from to young (average ) in a litter. females breed when only or months old. thus a pair, breeding uninterruptedly and without deaths, could in three years ( generations) produce a posterity of , , individuals. mice and the black and roof rats produce smaller litters, but the period of gestation, about days, and the number of litters are the same for all. rats and mice are practically omnivorous, feeding upon all kinds of animal and vegetable matter. the brown rat makes its home in the open field, the hedge row, and the river bank, as well as in stone walls, piers, and all kinds of buildings. it destroys grains when newly planted, while growing, and in the shock, stack, mow, crib, granary, mill, elevator, or ship's hold, and also in the bin and feed trough. it invades store and warehouse and destroys furs, laces, silks, carpets, leather goods, and groceries. it attacks fruits, vegetables, and meats in the markets, and destroys by pollution ten times as much as it actually eats. it destroys eggs and young poultry, and eats the eggs and young of song and game birds. it carries disease germs from house to house and bubonic plague from city to city. it causes disastrous conflagrations; floods houses by gnawing lead water pipes; ruins artificial ponds and embankments by burrowing; and damages foundations, floors, doors, and furnishings of dwellings. unlike the brown rat the black rat rarely migrates to the fields. it has disappeared from most parts of the northern states, but is occasionally found in remote villages or farms. at our seaports it frequently arrives on ships from abroad, but seldom becomes very numerous. the roof rat is common in many parts of the south, where it is a persistent pest in cane and rice fields. it maintains itself against the brown rat partly because of its habit of living in trees. the common house mouse by no means confines its activities to the inside of buildings, but is often found in open fields, where its depredations in shock and stack are well known. not only are mice and rats, especially the brown rat, a cause of destruction and damage to property, but they are also a constant menace to the health of man. it has been proved that they are the chief means of perpetuating and transmitting bubonic plague and that they play important rôles in conveying other diseases to human beings. they are parasites, without redeeming characteristics, and should everywhere be routed and destroyed. protection of food and other stores from rats and mice. past attempts to exterminate rats and mice have failed, not so much because of lack of effective means as because of the neglect of necessary precautions and the absence of concerted endeavors. we have rendered our work abortive by continuing to provide subsistence and hiding places for the animals. if these advantages are denied, persistent and general use of the usual methods of destruction will prove far more successful. rat-proof building. first in importance, as a measure of rat repression, is the exclusion of the animals from places where they find food and safe retreats for rearing their young. the best way to keep rats from buildings, whether in city or in country, is to use cement in construction. as the advantages of this material are coming to be generally understood, its use is rapidly extending to all kinds of buildings. the processes of mixing and laying this material require little skill or special knowledge, and workmen of ordinary intelligence can successfully follow the plain directions contained in handbooks of cement construction.[ ] many modern public buildings are so constructed that rats can find no lodgment in the walls or foundations, and yet in a few years, through negligence, such buildings often become infested with the pests. sometimes drain pipes are left uncovered for hours at a time. often outer doors, especially those opening on alleys, are left ajar. a common mistake is failure to screen basement windows which must be opened for ventilation. however the intruders are admitted, when once inside they intrench themselves behind furniture or stores, and are difficult to dislodge. the addition of inner doors to vestibules is an important precaution against rats. the lower edge of outer doors to public buildings, especially markets, should be reinforced with light metal plates to prevent the animals from gnawing through. any opening left around water, steam, or gas pipes, where they go through walls, should be closed carefully with concrete to the full depth of the wall. =dwellings.=--in constructing dwelling houses the additional cost of making the foundations rat-proof is slight compared with the advantages. the cellar walls should have concrete footings, and the walls themselves should be laid in cement mortar. the cellar floor should be of medium rather than lean concrete. even old cellars may be made rat-proof at comparatively small expense. rat holes may be permanently closed with a mixture of cement, sand, and broken glass, or sharp bits of crockery or stone. on a foundation like the one described above, the walls of a wooden dwelling also may be made rat-proof. the space between the sheathing and lath, to the height of about a foot, should be filled with concrete. rats can not then gain access to the walls, and can enter the dwelling only through doors or windows. screening all basement and cellar windows with wire netting is a most necessary precaution. =old buildings in cities.=--aside from old dwellings, the chief refuges for rats in cities are sewers, wharves, stables, and outbuildings. modern sewers are used by the animals merely as highways and not as abodes, but old-fashioned brick sewers often afford nesting crannies. [illustration: fig. .--rat-proofing a frame dwelling by concrete side wall (united states public health service, new orleans, la., ).] wharves, stables, and outbuildings in cities should be so built as to exclude rats. cement is the chief means to this end. old tumble-down buildings and wharves should not be tolerated in any city. (see fig. .) in both city and country, wooden floors of sidewalks, areas, and porches are commonly laid upon timbers resting on the ground. under such floors rats have a safe retreat from nearly all enemies. the conditions can be remedied in towns by municipal action requiring that these floors be replaced by others made of cement. areas or walks made of brick are often undermined by rats and may become as objectionable as those of wood. wooden floors of porches should always be well above the ground. =farm buildings.=--granaries, corncribs, and poultry houses may be made rat-proof by a liberal use of cement in the foundations and floors; or the floors may be of wood resting upon concrete. objection has been urged against concrete floors for horses, cattle, and poultry, because the material is too good a conductor of heat, and the health of the animals suffers from contact with these floors. in poultry houses, dry soil or sand may be used as a covering for the cement floor, and in stables a wooden floor resting on concrete is just as satisfactory so far as the exclusion of rats is concerned. the common practice of setting corncribs on posts with inverted pans at the top often fails to exclude rats, because the posts are not high enough to place the lower cracks of the structure beyond reach of the animals. as rats are excellent jumpers, the posts should be tall enough to prevent the animals from obtaining a foothold at any place within feet of the ground. a crib built in this way, however, is not very satisfactory. for a rat-proof crib a well-drained site should be chosen. the outer walls, laid in cement, should be sunk about inches into the ground. the space within the walls should be grouted thoroughly with cement and broken stone and finished with rich concrete for a floor. upon this the structure may be built. even the walls of the crib may be of concrete. corn will not mold in contact with them, provided there is good ventilation and the roof is water-tight. however, there are cheaper ways of excluding rats from either new or old corncribs. rats, mice, and sparrows may be kept out effectually by the use of either an inner or an outer covering of galvanized-wire netting of half-inch mesh and heavy enough to resist the teeth of the rats. the netting in common use in screening cellar windows is suitable for covering or lining cribs. as rats can climb the netting, the entire structure must be screened, or, if sparrows are not to be excluded, the wire netting may be carried up about feet from the ground, and above this a belt of sheet metal about a foot in width may be tacked to the outside of the building. complete working drawings for the practical rat-proof corncrib shown in figures and may be obtained from the office of public roads and rural engineering of the department. =buildings for storing foodstuffs.=--whenever possible, stores of food for man or beast should be placed only in buildings of rat-proof construction, guarded against rodents by having all windows near the ground and all other possible means of entrance screened with netting made of no. or no. wire and of / -inch mesh. entrance doors should fit closely, should have the lower edges protected by wide strips of metal, and should have springs attached, to insure that they shall not be left open. before being used for housing stores, the building should be inspected as to the manner in which water, steam, or gas pipes go through the walls, and any openings found around such pipes should be closed with concrete. [illustration: fig. .--perspective of rat-proof corncrib, showing concrete foundation by dotted lines; also belt of metal.] if rat-proof buildings are not available, it is possible, by the use of concrete in basements and the other precautions just mentioned, to make an ordinary building practically safe for food storage. when it is necessary to erect temporary wooden structures to hold forage, grain, or food supplies for army camps, the floors of such buildings should not be in contact with the ground, but elevated, the sills having a foot or more of clear space below them. smooth posts rising or feet above the ground may be used for foundations, and the floor itself may be protected below by wire netting or sheet metal at all places where rats could gain a foothold. care should be taken to have the floors as tight as possible, for it is chiefly scattered grain and fragments of food about a camp that attract rats. =rat-proofing by elevation.=--the united states public health service reports that in its campaigns against bubonic plague in san francisco ( ) and new orleans ( ) many plague rats were found under the floors of wooden houses resting on the ground. these buildings were made rat-proof by elevation, and no case of either human or rodent plague occurred in any house after the change. placing them on smooth posts inches above the ground, with the space beneath the floor entirely open, left no hiding place for rats. this plan is adapted to small dwellings throughout the south, and to small summer homes, temporary structures, and small farm buildings everywhere. wherever rats might obtain a foothold on the top of the post they may be prevented from gnawing the adjacent wood by tacking metal plates or pieces of wire netting to floor or sill. keeping food from rats and mice. the effect of an abundance of food on the breeding of rodents should be kept in mind. well-fed rats mature quickly, breed often, and have large litters. poorly fed rats, on the contrary, reproduce less frequently and have smaller litters. in addition, scarcity of food makes measures for destroying the animals far more effective. =merchandise in stores.=--in all parts of the country there is a serious economic drain in the destruction by rats and mice of merchandise held for sale by dealers. not only foodstuffs and forage, but textiles, clothing, and leather goods are often ruined. this loss is due mainly to the faulty buildings in which the stores are kept. often it would be a measure of economy to tear down the old structures and replace them by new ones. however, even the old buildings may often be repaired so as to make them practically rat-proof; and foodstuffs, as flour, seeds, and meats, may always be protected in wire cages at slight expense. the public should be protected from insanitary stores by a system of rigid inspection. [illustration: fig. .--floor plan of rat-proof corncrib shown in figure .] =household supplies.=--similar care should be exercised in the home to protect household supplies from mice and rats. little progress in ridding the premises of these animals can be made so long as they have access to supplies of food. cellars, kitchens, and pantries often furnish subsistence not only to rats that inhabit the dwelling, but to many that come from outside. food supplies may always be kept from rats and mice if placed in inexpensive rat-proof containers covered with wire netting. sometimes all that is needed to prevent serious waste is the application of concrete to holes in the basement wall or the slight repair of a defective part of the building. =produce in transit.=--much loss of fruits, vegetables, and other produce occurs in transit by rail and on ships. most of the damage is done at wharves and in railway stations, but there is also considerable in ships' holds, especially to perishable produce brought from warm latitudes. much of this may be prevented by the use of rat-proof cages at the docks, by the careful fumigation of seagoing vessels at the end of each voyage, and by the frequent fumigation of vessels in coastwise trade; but still more by replacing old and decrepit wharves and station platforms with modern ones built of concrete. where cargoes are being loaded or unloaded at wharves or depots, food liable to attack by rats may be temporarily safeguarded by being placed in rat-proof cages, or pounds, constructed of wire netting. wooden boxes containing reserve food held in depots for a considerable time or intended for shipment by sea may be made rat-proof by light coverings of metal along the angles. this plan has long been in use to protect naval stores on ships and in warehouses. it is based on the fact that rats do not gnaw the plane surfaces of hard materials, but attack doors, furniture, and boxes at the angles only. =packing houses.=--packing houses and abattoirs are often sources from which rats secure subsistence, especially where meats are prepared for market in old buildings. in old-style cooling rooms with double walls of wood and sawdust insulation, always a source of annoyance because of rat infestation, the utmost vigilance is required to prevent serious loss of meat products. on the other hand, packing houses with modern construction and sanitary devices have no trouble from rats or mice. =garbage and waste.=--since much of the food of rats consists of garbage and other waste materials, it is not enough to bar the animals from markets, granaries, warehouses, and private food stores. garbage and offal of all kinds must be so disposed of that rats can not obtain them. in cities and towns an efficient system of garbage collection and disposal should be established by ordinances. waste from markets, hotels, cafés and households should be collected in covered metal receptacles and frequently emptied. garbage should never be dumped in or near towns, but should be utilized or promptly destroyed by fire. rats find abundant food in country slaughterhouses; reform in the management of these is badly needed. such places are centers of rat propagation. it is a common practice to leave offal of slaughtered animals to be eaten by rats and swine, and this is the chief means of perpetuating trichinæ in pork. the law should require that offal be promptly cremated or otherwise disposed of. country slaughterhouses should be as cleanly and as constantly inspected as abattoirs. another important source of rat food is found in remnants of lunches left by employees in factories, stores, and public buildings. this food, which alone is sufficient to attract and sustain a small army of rats, is commonly left in waste baskets or other open receptacles. strictly enforced rules requiring all remnants of food to be deposited in covered metal vessels would make trapping far more effective. [illustration: fig. .--guillotine trap made entirely of metal.] military training camps, unless subjected to rigid discipline in the matter of disposal of garbage and waste, soon become centers of rat infestation. waste from camps, deposited in covered metal cans and collected daily, should be removed far from the camp itself and either burned or utilized in approved modern ways. destroying rats and mice. the biological survey has made numerous laboratory and field experiments with various agencies for destroying rats and mice. the results form the chief basis for the following recommendations: traps. owing to their cunning, it is not always easy to clear rats from premises by trapping; if food is abundant, it is impossible. a few adults refuse to enter the most innocent-looking trap. and yet trapping, if persistently followed, is one of the most effective ways of destroying the animals. =guillotine trap.=--for general use the improved modern traps with a wire fall released by a baited trigger and driven by a coiled spring have marked advantages over the old forms, and many of them may be used at the same time. these traps, sometimes called "guillotine" traps, are of many designs, but the more simply constructed are preferable. probably those made entirely of metal are the best, as they are more durable. traps with tin or sheet-metal bases are not recommended. guillotine traps of the type shown in figure should be baited with small pieces of vienna sausage (wienerwurst) or fried bacon. a small section of an ear of corn is an excellent bait if other grain is not present. the trigger wire should be bent inward to bring the bait into proper position for the fall to strike the rat in the neck, as shown in figure . other excellent baits for rats and mice are oatmeal, toasted cheese, toasted bread (buttered), fish, fish offal, fresh liver, raw meat, pine nuts, apples, carrots, and corn, and sunflower, squash, or pumpkin seeds. broken fresh eggs are good bait at all seasons, and ripe tomatoes, green cucumbers, and other fresh vegetables are very tempting to the animals in winter. when seed, grain, or meal is used with a guillotine trap, it is put on the trigger plate, or the trigger wire may be bent outward and the bait placed directly under it. oatmeal (rolled oats) is recommended as a bait for guillotine traps made with wooden base and trigger plate (fig. ). these traps are especially convenient to use on ledges or other narrow rat runs or at the openings of rat burrows. they are often used without bait. [illustration: fig. .--method of baiting guillotine trap.] a common mistake in trapping for rats and mice is to use only one or two traps when dozens are needed. for a large establishment hundreds of traps may be used to advantage, and a dozen is none too many for an ordinary barn or dwelling infested with rats. house mice are less suspicious than rats and are much more easily trapped. small guillotine traps baited with oatmeal will soon rid an ordinary dwelling of the smaller pests. =cage trap.=--when rats are abundant, the large french wire cage traps may be used to advantage. they should be made of stiff wire, well reinforced. many of those sold in stores are useless, because a full-grown rat can bend the light wires apart and so escape. [illustration: fig. .--guillotine trap with wooden base and trigger plate.] cage traps may be baited and left open for several nights until the rats are accustomed to enter them to obtain food. they should then be closed and freshly baited, when a larger catch may be expected, especially of young rats (fig. ). as many as , and even more, partly grown rats have been taken at a time in one of these traps. it is better to cover the trap than to leave it exposed. a short board should be laid on the trap and an old cloth or bag or a bunch of hay or straw thrown carelessly over the top. often the trap may be placed with the entrance opposite a rat hole and fitting it so closely that rats can not pass through without entering the trap. if a single rat is caught it may be left in the trap as a decoy to others. notwithstanding the fact that sometimes a large number of rats may be taken at a time in cage traps, a few good guillotine traps intelligently used will prove more effective in the long run. [illustration: fig. .--cage trap with catch of rats.] =figure- trigger trap.=--the old-fashioned box trap set with a figure- trigger is sometimes useful to secure a wise old rat that refuses to be enticed into a modern trap. better still is a simple deadfall--a flat stone or a heavy plank--supported by a figure- trigger. an old rat will go under such a contrivance to feed without fear. =steel trap.=--the ordinary steel trap (no. or ) may sometimes be satisfactorily employed to capture a rat. the animal is usually caught by the foot, and its squealing has a tendency to frighten other rats. the trap may be set in a shallow pan or box and covered with bran or oats, care being taken to have the space under the trigger pan free of grain. this may be done by placing a very little cotton under the trigger and setting as lightly as possible. in a narrow run or at the mouth of a burrow a steel trap unbaited and covered with very light cloth or tissue paper is often effective. [illustration: fig. .--barrel trap: , with stiff paper cover; , with hinged barrel cover; _a_, stop; _b_, baits.] the best bait usually is food of a kind that the rats and mice do not get in the vicinity. in a meat market, vegetables or grain should be used; in a feed store, meat. as far as possible food other than the bait should be inaccessible while trapping is in progress. the bait should be kept fresh and attractive, and the kind changed when necessary. baits and traps should be handled as little as possible. [illustration: fig. --pit trap. _aa_, rat run; _bb_, cover; _cc_, position of weights; _dd_, rods on which covers turn.] =barrel trap.=--about years ago a writer in the cornhill magazine gave details of a trap, by means of which it was claimed that , rats were caught in a warehouse in a single night. the plan involved tolling the rats to the place and feeding them for several nights on the tops of barrels covered with coarse brown paper. afterwards a cross was cut in the paper, so that the rats fell into the barrel (fig. ( )). many variations of the plan, but few improvements upon it, have been suggested by agricultural writers since that time. reports are frequently made of large catches of rats by means of a barrel fitted with a light cover of wood, hinged on a rod so as to turn with the weight of a rat (fig. ( )). =pit trap.=--a modification of the barrel trap is the pit trap (fig. ). this consists of a stout narrow box sunk in the ground so that the top is level with the rat run. it is fixed with a cover of light wood or metal in two sections, the sections fitting nicely inside the box and working independently. they turn on rods, to which they are fastened. they are weighted near the ends of the box and so adjusted that they swing easily. an animal stepping upon the cover beyond the rods is precipitated into the box, while the cover immediately swings back to its place. besides rats, the trap is well adapted to capture larger animals, as minks, raccoons, opossums, and cats. it is especially useful to protect poultry yards, game preserves, and the like. the trap should be placed along the fence outside the yard, and behind a shelter of boards or brush that leans against the fence. =fence and battue.=--in the rice fields of the far east the natives build numerous piles of brush and rice straw, and leave them for several days until many rats have taken shelter in them. a portable bamboo inclosure several feet in height is then set up around each pile in succession and the straw and brush are thrown out over the top, while dogs and men kill the trapped rodents. large numbers are destroyed in this way, and the plan with modifications may be utilized in america with satisfactory results. a wire netting of fine mesh may be used for the inclosure. the scheme is applicable at the removal of grain, straw, or haystacks, as well as brush piles. in a large barn near washington, a few years ago, piles of unhusked corn were left in the loft and were soon infested with rats. a wooden pen was set down surrounding the piles in turn and the corn thrown out until dogs were able to get at the rats. in this way several men and dogs killed rats in a single day. poisons. while the use of poison is the best and quickest way to get rid of rats and mice, the odor from the dead animals makes the method impracticable in occupied houses. poisons may be effectively used in barns, stables, sheds, cribs, and other outbuildings. =caution.=--in the united states there are few laws which prohibit the laying of poisons on lands owned or controlled by the poisoner. hence it is all the more necessary to exercise extreme caution to prevent accidents. in several states notice of intention to lay poison must be given to persons living in the neighborhood. poison for rats should never be placed in open or unsheltered places. this applies particularly to strychnin or arsenic on meat. _packages containing poisons should always bear a warning label and should not be kept where children might reach them._ among the principal poisons that have been recommended for killing rats and mice are barium carbonate, strychnin, arsenic, phosphorus, and squills. =barium carbonate.=--one of the cheapest and most effective poisons for rats and mice is barium carbonate. this mineral has the advantage of being without taste or smell. it has a corrosive action on the mucous lining of the stomach and is dangerous to larger animals if taken in sufficient quantity. in the small doses fed to rats and mice it would be harmless to domestic animals. its action upon rats is slow, and if exit is possible the animals usually leave the premises in search of water. for this reason the poison may frequently, though not always, be used in houses without disagreeable consequences. barium carbonate may be fed in the form of dough composed of four parts of meal or flour and one part of the mineral. a more convenient bait is ordinary oatmeal with about one-eighth of its bulk of the mineral, mixed with water into a stiff dough. a third plan is to spread the barium carbonate upon fish, toasted bread (moistened), or ordinary bread and butter. the prepared bait should be placed in rat runs, about a teaspoonful at a place. if a single application of the poison fails to kill or drive away all rats from the premises, it should be repeated with a change of bait. =strychnin.=--strychnin is too rapid in action to make its use for rats desirable in houses, but elsewhere it may be employed effectively. strychnia sulphate is the best form to use. the dry crystals may be inserted in small pieces of raw meat, vienna sausage, or toasted cheese, and these placed in rat runs or burrows; or oatmeal may be moistened with a strychnin sirup and small quantities laid in the same way. strychnin sirup is prepared as follows: dissolve a half ounce of strychnia sulphate in a pint of boiling water; add a pint of thick sugar sirup and stir thoroughly. a smaller quantity may be prepared with a proportional quantity of water and sirup. in preparing the bait it is necessary to moisten all the oatmeal with the sirup. wheat and corn are excellent alternative baits. the grain should be soaked overnight in the strychnin sirup. =arsenic.=--arsenic is probably the most popular of the rat poisons, owing to its cheapness, yet our experiments prove that, measured by the results obtained, arsenic is dearer than strychnin. besides, arsenic is extremely variable in its effect upon rats, and if the animals survive a first dose it is very difficult to induce them to take another. powdered white arsenic (arsenious acid) may be fed to rats in almost any of the baits mentioned under barium carbonate and strychnin. it has been used successfully when rubbed into fresh fish or spread on buttered toast. another method is to mix twelve parts by weight of corn meal and one part of arsenic with whites of eggs into a stiff dough. an old formula for poisoning rats and mice with arsenic is the following, adapted from an english source: take a pound of oatmeal, a pound of coarse brown sugar, and a spoonful of arsenic. mix well together and put the composition into an earthen jar. put a tablespoonful at a place in runs frequented by rats. =phosphorus.=--for poisoning rats and mice, phosphorus is used almost as commonly as arsenic, and undoubtedly it is effective when given in an attractive bait. the phosphorus paste of the drug stores is usually dissolved yellow phosphorus, mixed with glucose or other substances. the proportion of phosphorus varies from one-fourth of per cent to per cent. the first amount is too small to be always effective and the last is dangerously inflammable. when homemade preparations of phosphorus are used there is much danger of burning the person or of setting fire to crops or buildings. in the western states many fires have resulted from putting out homemade phosphorus poisons for ground squirrels, and entire fields of ripe grain have been destroyed in this way. even with commercial pastes the action of sun and rain changes the phosphorus and leaches out the glucose until a highly inflammable residue is left. it is often claimed that phosphorus eaten by rats or mice dries up or mummifies the body so that no odor results. the statement has no foundation in fact. no known poison will prevent decomposition of the body of an animal that died from its effects. equally misleading is the statement that rats poisoned with phosphorus do not die on the premises. owing to its slower operation, no doubt a larger portion escape into the open before dying than when strychnin is used. the biological survey does not recommend the use of phosphorus as a poison for rodents. =squills.=--the squill, or sea leek,[ ] is a favorite rat poison in many parts of europe and is well worthy of trial in america. it is rapid and very deadly in its action, and rats seem to eat it readily. the poison is used in several ways. two ounces of dry squills, powdered, may be thoroughly mixed with eight ounces of toasted cheese or of butter and meal and put out in runs of rats or mice. another formula recommends two parts of squills to three parts of finely chopped bacon, mixed with meal enough to make it cohere. this is baked in small cakes. =poison in poultry houses.=--for poisoning rats in buildings and yards occupied by poultry the following method is recommended: two wooden boxes should be used, one considerably larger than the other and each having one or more holes in the sides large enough to admit rats. the poisoned bait should be placed on the bottom and near the middle of the smaller box, and the larger box should then be inverted over it. rats thus have free access to the bait, but fowls are excluded. domestic animals. among domestic animals employed to kill rats are the dog, the cat, and the ferret. =dogs.=--the value of dogs as ratters can not be appreciated by persons who have had no experience with a trained animal. the ordinary cur and the larger breeds of dogs seldom develop the necessary qualities for ratters. small irish, scotch, and fox terriers, when properly trained, are superior to other breeds and under favorable circumstances may be relied upon to keep the farm premises reasonably free from rats. =cats.=--however valuable cats may be as mousers, few learn to catch rats. the ordinary house cat is too well fed and consequently too lazy to undertake the capture of an animal as formidable as the brown rat. birds and mice are much more to its liking. cats that are fearless of rats, however, and have learned to hunt and destroy them are often very useful about stables and warehouses. they should be lightly fed, chiefly on milk. a little sulphur in the milk at intervals is a corrective against the bad effects of a constant rat or mouse diet. cats often die from eating these rodents. =ferrets.=--tame ferrets, like weasels, are inveterate foes of rats, and can follow the rodents into their retreats. under favorable circumstances they are useful aids to the rat catcher, but their value is greatly overestimated. for effective work they require experienced handling and the additional services of a dog or two. dogs and ferrets must be thoroughly accustomed to each other, and the former must be quiet and steady instead of noisy and excitable. the ferret is used only to bolt the rats, which are killed by the dogs. if unmuzzled ferrets are sent into rat retreats, they are apt to make a kill and then lie up after sucking the blood of their victim. sometimes they remain for hours in the burrows or escape by other exits and are lost. there is danger that these lost ferrets may adapt themselves to wild conditions and become a pest by preying upon poultry and birds. fumigation. rats may be destroyed in their burrows in the fields and along river banks, levees, and dikes by carbon bisulphid.[ ] a wad of cotton or other absorbent material is saturated with the liquid and then pushed into the burrow, the opening being packed with earth to prevent the escape of the gas. all animals in the burrow are asphyxiated. fumigation in buildings is not so satisfactory, because it is difficult to confine the gases. moreover, when effective, the odor from the dead rats is highly objectionable in occupied buildings. chlorin, carbon monoxid, sulphur dioxid, and hydrocyanic acid are the gases most used for destroying rats and mice in sheds, warehouses, and stores. each is effective if the gas can be confined and made to reach the retreats of the animals. owing to the great danger from fire incident to burning charcoal or sulphur in open pans, a special furnace provided with means for forcing the gas into the compartments of vessels or buildings is generally employed. hydrocyanic-acid gas is effective in destroying all animal life in buildings. it has been successfully used to free elevators and warehouses of rats, mice, and insects. however, it is so dangerous to human life that the novice should not attempt fumigation with it, except under careful instructions. directions for preparing and using the gas may be found in a publication entitled hydrocyanic-acid gas against household insects, by dr. l. o. howard and charles h. popenoe.[ ] carbon monoxid is rather dangerous, as its presence in the hold of a vessel or other compartment is not manifest to the senses, and fatal accidents have occurred during its employment to fumigate vessels. chlorin gas has a strong bleaching action upon textile fabrics, and for this reason can not be used in many situations. sulphur dioxid also has a bleaching effect upon textiles, but less marked than that of chlorin, and ordinarily it is not noticeable with the small percentage of the gas it is necessary to use. on the whole, this gas has many advantages as a fumigator and disinfectant. it is used also as a fire extinguisher on board vessels. special furnaces for generating the gas and forcing it into the compartments of ships and buildings are on the market, and many steamships and docks are now fitted with the necessary apparatus. rat viruses. several microorganisms, or bacteria, found originally in diseased rats or mice, have been exploited for destroying rats. a number of these so-called rat viruses are on the american market. the biological survey, the bureau of animal industry, and the united states public health service have made careful investigations and practical tests of these viruses, mostly with negative results. the cultures tested by the biological survey have not proved satisfactory. the chief defects to be overcome before the cultures can be recommended for general use are: . the virulence is not great enough to kill a sufficiently high percentage of rats that eat food containing the microorganisms. . the virulence decreases with the age of the cultures. they deteriorate in warm weather and in bright sunlight. . the diseases resulting from the microorganisms are not contagious and do not spread by contact of diseased with healthy animals. . the comparative cost of the cultures is too great for general use. since they have no advantages over the common poisons, except that they are usually harmless to man and other animals, they should be equally cheap; but their actual cost is much greater. moreover, considering the skill and care necessary in their preparation, it is doubtful if the cost can be greatly reduced. the department of agriculture, therefore, does not prepare, use, or recommend the use of rat viruses. natural enemies of rats and mice. among the natural enemies of rats and mice are the larger hawks and owls, skunks, foxes, coyotes, weasels, minks, dogs, cats, and ferrets. probably the greatest factor in the increase of rats, mice, and other destructive rodents in the united states has been the persistent killing off of the birds and mammals that prey upon them. animals that on the whole are decidedly beneficial, since they subsist upon harmful insects and rodents, are habitually destroyed by some farmers and sportsmen because they occasionally kill a chicken or a game bird. the value of carnivorous mammals and the larger birds of prey in destroying rats and mice should be more fully recognized, especially by the farmer and the game preserver. rats actually destroy more poultry and game, both eggs and young chicks, than all the birds and wild mammals combined; yet some of their enemies among our most useful birds of prey and carnivorous mammals are persecuted almost to the point of extinction. an enlightened public sentiment should cause the repeal of all bounties on these animals and afford protection to the majority of them. organized efforts to destroy rats. the necessity of cooperation and organization in the work of rat destruction is of the utmost importance. to destroy all the animals on the premises of a single farmer in a community has little permanent value, since they are soon replaced from near-by farms. if, however, the farmers of an entire township or county unite in efforts to get rid of rats, much more lasting results may be attained. if continued from year to year, such organized efforts are very effective. community efforts. cooperative efforts to destroy rats have taken various forms in different localities. in cities, municipal employees have occasionally been set at work hunting rats from their retreats, with at least temporary benefit to the community. thus, in , at folkestone, england, a town of about , inhabitants, the corporation employees, helped by dogs, in three days killed , rats. side hunts in which rats are the only animals that count in the contest have sometimes been organized and successfully carried out. at new burlington, ohio, a rat hunt took place some years ago in which each of the two sides killed over , rats, the beaten party serving a banquet to the winners. there is danger that organized rat hunts will be followed by long intervals of indifference and inaction. this may be prevented by offering prizes covering a definite period of effort. such prizes accomplish more than municipal bounties, because they secure a friendly rivalry which stimulates the contestants to do their utmost to win. in england and some of its colonies contests for prizes have been organized to promote the destruction of the english, or house, sparrow, but many of the so-called sparrow clubs are really sparrow and rat clubs, for the destruction of both pests is the avowed object of the organizations. a sparrow club in kent, england, accomplished the destruction of , sparrows and , rats in three seasons by the annual expenditure of but £ ($ . ) in prize money. had ordinary bounties been paid for this destruction, the tax on the community would have been about £ (over $ , ). many organizations already formed should be interested in destroying rats. boards of trade, civic societies, and citizens' associations in towns and farmers' and women's clubs in rural communities will find the subject of great importance. women's municipal leagues in several large cities already have taken up the matter. the league in baltimore recently secured appropriations of funds for expenditure in fighting mosquitoes, flies, and rats. the league in boston during the past year, supported by voluntary contributions for the purpose, made a highly creditable educational campaign against rats. boys' corn clubs, the troops of boy scouts, and similar organizations could do excellent work in rat campaigns. state and national aid. to secure permanent results any general campaign for the elimination of rats must aim at _building the animals out of shelter and food_. building reforms depend on municipal ordinances and legislative enactments. the recent plague eradication work of the united states public health service in san francisco, seattle, new orleans, and at various places in hawaii and porto rico required such ordinances and laws as well as financial aid in prosecuting the work. the campaign of danish and swedish organizations for the destruction of rats had the help of governmental appropriations. the legislatures of california, texas, indiana, and hawaii have in recent years passed laws or made appropriations to aid in rat riddance. it is probable that well-organized efforts of communities would soon win legislative support everywhere. communities should not postpone efforts, however, while waiting for legislative cooperation, but should at once organize and begin repressive operations. wherever health is threatened the public health service of the united states can cooperate, and where crops and other products are endangered the bureau of biological survey of the department of agriculture is ready to assist by advice and in demonstration of methods. important repressive measures. the measures needed for repressing and eliminating rats and mice include the following: . the requirement that all new buildings erected shall be made rat-proof under competent inspection. . that all existing rat-proof buildings shall be closed against rats and mice by having all openings accessible to the animals, from foundation to roof, closed or screened by door, window, grating, or meshed wire netting. . that all buildings not of rat-proof construction shall be made so by remodeling, by the use of materials that may not be pierced by rats, or by elevation. . the protection of our native hawks, owls, and smaller predatory mammals--the natural enemies of rats. . greater cleanliness about markets, grocery stores, warehouses, courts, alleys, stables, and vacant lots in cities and villages, and like care on farms and suburban premises. this includes the storage of waste and garbage in tightly covered vessels and the prompt disposal of it each day. . care in the construction of drains and sewers, so as not to provide entrance and retreat for rats. old brick sewers in cities should be replaced by concrete or tile. . the early threshing and marketing of grains on farms, so that stacks and mows shall not furnish harborage and food for rats. . removal of outlying straw stacks and piles of trash or lumber that harbor rats in fields and vacant lots. . the keeping of provisions, seed grain, and foodstuffs in rat-proof containers. . keeping effective rat dogs, especially on farms and in city warehouses. . the systematic destruction of rats, whenever and wherever possible, by (_a_) trapping, (_b_) poisoning, and (_c_) organized hunts. . the organization of clubs and other societies for systematic warfare against rats. footnotes: [ ] _mus musculus._ [ ] _rattus norvegicus._ [ ] _rattus rattus rattus._ [ ] _rattus rattus alexandrinus._ [ ] farmers' bulletin , use of concrete on the farm, will prove useful to city and village dwellers as well as to the farmer. [ ] _scilla maritima._ [ ] caution.--carbon disulphid is very inflammable and can be ignited by a match, lantern, cigar, or pipe. [ ] farmers' bulletin . publications of the united states department of agriculture relating to noxious mammals. available for free distribution. how to destroy rats. (farmers' bulletin .) the common mole of eastern united states. (farmers' bulletin .) field mice as farm and orchard pests. (farmers' bulletin .) cottontail rabbits in relation to trees and farm crops. (farmers' bulletin .) trapping moles and utilizing their skins. (farmers' bulletin .) destroying rodent pests on the farm. (separate , yearbook for .) for sale by the superintendent of documents, government printing office, washington, d. c. harmful and beneficial mammals of the arid interior, with special reference to the carson and humboldt valleys, nevada. (farmers' bulletin .) price cents. the nevada mouse plague of - . (farmers' bulletin .) price cents. some common mammals of western montana in relation to agriculture and spotted fever. (farmers' bulletin .) price cents. danger of introducing noxious animals and birds. (separate , yearbook .) price cents. meadow mice in relation to agriculture and horticulture. (separate , yearbook .) price cents. mouse plagues, their control and prevention. (separate , yearbook .) price--cents. use of poisons for destroying noxious mammals. (separate , yearbook .) price cents. pocket gophers as enemies of trees. (separate , yearbook .) price cents. the jack rabbits of the united states. (biological survey bulletin .) price cents. economic study of field mice, genus _microtus_. (biological survey bulletin .) price cents. the brown rat in the united states. (biological survey bulletin .) price cents. directions for the destruction of wolves and coyotes. (biological survey circular .) price cents. the california ground squirrel. (biological survey circular .) price cents. seed-eating mammals in relation to reforestation. (biological survey circular .) price cents. mammals of bitterroot valley, montana, in their relation to spotted fever. (biological survey circular .) price cents. available by internet archive (https://archive.org) note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/ / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/ / -h.zip) images of the original pages are available through internet archive. see https://archive.org/details/allaboutferretsr isaa transcriber's note: text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=). all about ferrets and rats a complete history of ferrets, rats, and rat extermination from personal experiences and study. also a practical hand-book on the ferret. by "sure pop." (adolph isaacsen.) second edition. price, twenty-five cents. new york: adolph isaacsen, publisher, no. fulton street. entered, according to act of congress, in the year , by adolph isaacsen, in the office of the librarian of congress, at washington. contents. page. introductory the ferret. i. what a ferret is ii. character and appearance iii. rat hunting iv. food v. ferret houses vi. diseases vii. hardiness viii. breeding and training ix. strength and bite x. handling xi. with cats and dogs xii. advantages as a rat exterminator xiii. miscellaneous the rat. i. the rat family and its varieties ii. rat history iii. the king's own rat-catcher iv. rat society, cannibalism, and friendship v. multiplying powers vi. unabridged bill of fare vii. ferocity viii. rats in breweries, slaughter houses, markets, stables, and barn-yards ix. rats as wine drinkers x. destructiveness xi. rats as food xii. rat nests xiii. the rat's musical talents and eyesight xvi. rats as moralists xv. rats in the good old days, and the modern rat superstitions xvi. review of the rat, and conclusion rat extermination. i. traps ii. poisons iii. dogs, cats, and ferrets iv. human rat catchers the origin of the ferret, with hints to darwin. introductory. in the following pages we have given a complete review of the ever-important rat exterminating subject, from a practical man's point of view. the essay on the ferret has been exhaustively treated, is a special feature of the work, and will be found of great value to the rat-ridden part of the community, as well as to the fancier and naturalist. "the rat" has been handled from a universal point of view, and the book has been prepared from the writer's practical notes during his thirty years' study of rats and rat extermination. the ferret. [illustration] i.--what a ferret is. our dictionaries say that "ferret" as a verb active means to search out carefully. this is certainly an important function of the animal, but, as it belongs to the musteline or flesh-eating weasel family, it has also inherited these animals' boldness and savageness, though tempered and exercised in a very useful direction, i. e., of killing off the most bothersome and numerous of our vermin for us. it is rather a well-known family, the one to which the ferret belongs, including such animals as the sable, which furnishes the highly-prized fur, the skunk, with its not as greatly valued perfume, the ermine, the color of which is likened to the driven snow and whose dress forms the badge of royalty, the weasel, from which artists obtain their finest brushes, the marten, the badger, and the otter. the shape of these animals, the characteristics being strongly marked in the ferret, is long, slender, and serpentine (snake-like and winding), their teeth are very sharp, the muzzle and legs short. their average food is rats, rabbits, and birds. members of this class are found in all climates and parts of the earth. it is necessary to state, primarily, that there is no such thing as a wild ferret; it is domesticated in the same degree as a cat or a dog. the wild animal from which the ferret is bred is the weasel, just as the dog is originally of wolf extraction, and the cat of the same class as the tiger or lion. the ferret is also interbred with the different species of the musteline tribe, such as the mink, marten, polecat, and fitch. these are nevertheless all weasels in the same way that terriers, black and tans, newfoundlands, and poodles all belong to the family of dogs. the ferret's origin has been traced by some to spain, by others again to the northwestern part of africa, and by still different writers as far away from us as egypt, but it was first used authentically for ratting and rabbiting in great britain, where it is most highly prized, its merits understood, and where almost every one is as familiar with it as he is with the nature of his house cat. the public here in america is yet but indifferently acquainted with the ferret. at an exhibition of ferrets made by the writer at madison square garden there was about one out of every fifteen persons that knew the name of the animal at all, and the ferrets were alternately designated as skunks, weasels, guinea-pigs, raccoons, monkeys, woodchucks, kittens, puppies, squirrels, rabbits, chipmunks, rats (an animal for which they are commonly mistaken), hares, martens, otters, small kangaroos, muskrats, beavers, seals, and, ridiculous as it may seem, small bears. the american race of ferrets has been bred to a high degree of intelligence, as the proper medium of wildness in the hunt and docility to its keeper has been obtained principally through the efforts of the present writer. this, however, has only been brought about after a great deal of close study and experiment in cross breeding, until now the american animal is greatly preferable to its more sluggish and vicious english brother. ii.--character and appearance. every individual ferret has a character and distinct look of its own, although there are some ugly, scarred, and bony specimens with game legs and glass eyes, still the ferret, when in good condition, is a pretty little animal, with soft fur and kittenish ways, and can be handled and fondled after you have become mutually acquainted, the same as a cat. it can never be made as trustworthy as a dog, because it does not possess as much intelligence. the general colors are white, yellow, and a mixture of black, brown, gray, and tan, varied with gray and white patches over and under the neck and body. _the tint runs according to the predominance of either mink, marten, fitch, or polecat blood._ the ferret is essentially a _useful_ animal, and is not valued for its good looks, but the purely colored, pink-eyed, white ferret, with its plump form and beautiful, glossy coat of a creamy shade, does certainly not present an ungainly appearance. the dark ones are a sprightly company, too, with their friendly, sparkling black eyes and social nature. there is no standard size--there are large and small breeds, the age having nothing to do with its inches. some ferrets never get to be bigger than a size beyond a dock rat, while i have had others as large as a full grown cat. there are ferrets more valuable as hunters than others on account of their wiry forms, their age, experience, and intelligence. i have small, homely ferrets, which persons not understanding ferret peculiarities would pick out as the most miserable and stupid of a lot, but which in reality are choice hunting stock. there is no preference for small or large ferrets, as they are both good for different purposes. ferrets are cleanly animals both in appearance and in their habits. their jumping and climbing powers are limited. there is a curious thing about the ferret that reminds us of its kinsmanship with the gentle-tempered skunk, for _when it is teased or aggravated_ (showing this also by bristling up the hair of its tail) it emits a pungent odor from a gland it has underneath the tail. this only happens in extreme cases, otherwise it is peaceful enough except toward its natural prey. _different lots of ferrets, strangers to each other, will not agree, and should not be put together, as there is a risk of a deadly battle._ it is a pleasant enough thing to watch a number of healthy ferrets at their antics. on the writer's breeding grounds, where the pens are always kept neatly painted and the sawdust carefully leveled on the floor, making it look like a lawn in yellow, they generally huddle up in a snug heap, presenting a confused jumble of heads, tails, blinking eyes, and indistinguishable masses of fur. this is during the daytime, after they have been fed. toward dusk, or when they are hungry again, they disentangle themselves from the bunch, one by one, and after they have properly yawned and stretched themselves they are very lively. they frisk and gambol about like lambs in a pasture, without the odd, long-legged appearance of the lamb, but they make up for this by humping up their backs like small dromedaries. they get to tumbling over one another in a comic, clown-like way, they run, galop, trot, and hop, and sit erect on their haunches. this latter action they perform in expectation of a mouse, a special delicacy with them, though but a mouthful, from the keepers leaning over the pens above. upon the whole they seem to be enjoying life immensely, presenting quite a study of animal contentment and happiness. iii.--rat hunting. when the word rat is mentioned in connection with the ferret, our pacific scene is changed to one of war and bloodshed. the savage instincts of the animal are then aroused, and the rat itself knows, when it has caught the ferret's scent, that its time has come. there are no two animals more deadly enemies than these, the ferret being constructed in such a way that it is best adapted to hunt the rat in the rat's own haunts. wherever a rat can go a ferret can go, because the latter's body is as flexible as rubber, and it can squeeze itself up, draw itself out, and flatten its limbs into a likeness of a new england buckwheat cake, as if there wasn't a bone in its body. the weasels, and nearly all wild animals of this division, after killing the prey suck the blood, eat the brain, leave the rest of the body untouched, and then proceed to annihilate the next victim, repeating the operation. here is where the difference between the ferret and the other animals of its tribe comes in, for it does not content itself with brain food and such ethereal substances, but devours the whole carcass with a fine relish, not even leaving the tail or the skin. it bolts the bones and everything else thereto appertaining. it is rather an appalling experience for the first time to hear the hungry ferret's teeth go crunch, crunch, as they meet in the neck of some fat rodent. this sound bears a resemblance to a cowboy chewing radishes. a very hungry ferret would commence to devour the rat before it had thoroughly made its exit into the sweet subsequently. in using ferrets to clear a house of rats, they should be allowed to nose through the building during the night with the same freedom accorded a domestic animal. during the day they are kept in the pen. the reason a ferret should be hunted with in the night is that it sees better then, and that it is instinctively better fitted for hunting. the rats also become more venturesome at this time. when the ferrets are to be hunted with, feed them slightly, as feeding blunts their hunting capabilities and makes them worthless. after a good feed a ferret will sleep harder than any other domestic animal. sometimes you will find a ferret so hard asleep that you can take him up, shake him, and then put him down again without waking him. if you are inexperienced in the ways of the ferret, you will imagine you have a corpse on your hands. but the corpse will in a short time open its eyes, shake itself, wag its tail, and then trot around with the others. when a ferret sleeps he will let his companions tramp all over his head and body without allowing himself to be disturbed in the least. when they have been fed too well they will sleep and be of no further use. if these over-fed ferrets are in a pen and you put rats in for them to kill, they will not wake up even if the rats crawl all over them, although the rodents are scared into fits and are trying to get away with all their might and main. a hungry ferret around a house will go scenting around as hunting dogs do, to discover any trace or hiding-place of his natural prey. this in itself is enough to drive all the rats to jericho and make them stay there as long as the ferrets are kept around, for the rodents have an acute bodily fear of these prowling detectives. a ferret's being bitten by a rat happens only in extreme cases, but sometimes in cellars and other places that are swarming with rats, ferrets that have first been put in have to contend with great odds, and come out with some bruises. _therefore if even a good, old hunting ferret should be bitten by a rat, he should not be used until the wound is perfectly healed again, even if it should take two or three weeks._ the ferret is very peculiar in this respect, and if this rule is not observed he may be spoiled as a hunter forever afterwards. the ferrets hunt downward, and if put on the upper or top floors in the evening they will turn up in the morning down in the cellar driving the rats before them. they should be kept in a dry place, and they rapidly get to know their pens, returning to them and waiting to be put in when through hunting. with a moderate amount of attention they will thrive and prosper in their work of extermination. iv.--food. ferrets should always be anxious for their meals. rats are good ferret food; but never feed dead rats, as you run the risk of the rats having been previously poisoned, this also transmitting itself to the ferrets. if there are plenty of rats in the place the ferrets will be able to do their own choice marketing; otherwise, when not hunting, feed them either crackers and milk or bread and milk, with a pan of water always at hand in warm weather. raw meat can be given them two or three times a week, but never feed liver or salt meat. when milk is not handy use water instead. for a pair of ferrets use a shallow pan for their food, the pan to be as large as an ordinary saucer. once a day is enough to feed them. when you wish to hunt your ferrets at night feed them in the morning, and they will be in the proper hunting condition when night comes. particular relishes are chicken heads, duck heads, rabbit heads, and sparrows. dilute the milk occasionally, and change off with the bread or crackers soaked in water instead of milk. besides this you can feed your ferrets the same as you do your cat, with the exception above mentioned. ferrets enjoy their meals heartily--they grunt and smack their lips with much satisfaction when fed; particularly so when feasting off a rat, as there is nothing they enjoy more than a good, big, healthy one--turning the rodent inside out and ploughing out the interior with great exactness. v.--ferret houses. ferrets must have plenty of good air, as they cannot stand being boxed up closely for a great length of time without getting diseased. i have, since the first edition of this book was printed, invented a model ferret-cage, in which i keep my stock in perfect health and in prime condition. i now make a specialty of manufacturing this contrivance, and have dubbed it "the sure pop ferret cage." it is of a solid build, but of a convenient size for expressage to any point. it is divided into two sections: (a) for sleeping and (b) for exercise and feeding; connected by an aperture just big enough for a ferret to get through. a (sleeping-room) is one-fourth the size of b and is kept dark, except that it has two small wire windows at each side which furnish perfect ventilation. b (for exercise and feeding) is constructed of wire on the top and the sides around a solid frame; the same flooring serving the two apartments. there is a wide door on the end of the larger section and also one on the roof of the smaller, so that the ferrets can be conveniently taken out or handled and the cage cleaned at any time. in winter it is best to keep the smaller division full of hay; it keeps the ferrets warm and clean. in the larger part you can use sawdust or earth; and another big advantage i wish to call attention to is the peculiar manner in which the connecting aperture is placed, so that the ferrets cannot carry out the hay, but can conveniently get from one apartment to the other. the price at which i am now disposing of these cages ($ . ) is merely nominal, but i prefer to have my stock housed in a comfortable and correct manner, as the ferrets will then do better work and get attached to their new master a great deal quicker than if their quarters were neglected. the above cage is, as i have said, of a very convenient size, and can be stored in the cellar of a house--if the cellar is dry--or can be placed in a barn or stable, or, if needs be, can be put into service as an independent out-of-door house. for the latter use the larger apartment should be boarded up, so that the ferrets are not completely exposed to the rough weather; it should also be kept three or four inches above the ground. if sawdust is used, it should be cleaned out at least every other day and replaced with a fresh supply. the hay need not be changed for one week. vi.--diseases. on the topic of ferret diseases, all the advice i can give is of a preventive, rather than of a curative, nature. my experience has been that, when a ferret is sick, it is the wisest policy to kill it immediately, as in all my practice i have never cured a sick ferret yet. of course there are numerous remedies advocated by persons who claim to "know it all"; but experiment with these is simply a waste of time and material. the common diseases of ferrets are foot-rot, distemper, diphtheria, and influenza. foot-rot is caused by dirt and neglect, and is the most common, dangerous, and devastating. it makes the feet swell out to twice their natural size, and become spongy; the nose and snout get dirty; the eyes commence to run, become perceptibly weaker, and then close. the tail also changes to a sandy and gravelly texture. distemper is only a case of foot-rot aggravated. in influenza the nose runs violently, and there is the same affection of the eyes, accompanied by incessant sneezing. diphtheria is a throat trouble, indicated by swelling of the neck, much heavy coughing, and nearly the same other accompaniments as the above diseases. to prevent disease, cleanliness and moderation are the simple antidotes: this is not such a hard thing to accomplish, as the ferret is a strong animal for its size, and very cleanly itself. ferrets are sometimes run down by overwork in hunting, and get to be dull and sluggish; but they will soon regain their vigor, by letting them rest for awhile, and giving them plenty of food. pure air, fresh, raw, bloody meat, and good milk, will soon bring the ferrets back to their natural state inside of a week. ferrets are sometimes troubled with fleas of a large size, that use the animals up greatly if they are not checked immediately. a little sure pop insect powder rubbed in dry with the hand will settle the insects effectively in a very short time. vii.--hardiness. there are numerous remarkable examples of ferret toughness on record. not long since, the following came under my notice: a couple of ferrets were used in a warehouse, and one of them, a handsome, dark-coated, mink-bred animal, accidently fell through a hatchway from the fourth story. he was brought to me in a horrible condition, the hinder part of the body being entirely smashed out of shape, and completely paralyzed. the poor brute was forced to drag along its useless trunk with the help of its forefeet only. i thought myself the animal was assuredly done for; but in a fortnight it had quite recovered the use of its limbs, which also assumed their natural form and function. it was again enabled to hop about as well as the rest; in fact, no trace of its former complete demolition remained. another noteworthy example was this: a friend of mine, m---- was out rabbit-hunting with a companion carrying his ferret, which had been muzzled, in his pocket, a common way of transporting it. after he had bagged half a dozen rabbits in one place, he secured his ferret again, and went on walking some distance through a snowed-over part of the woods, chatting with his friend. he suddenly felt in his pocket, and found his ferret had got away. they retraced their steps, carefully searching for two or three hours high and low, but without success. m---- went home, satisfied his ferret was lost. eight days afterwards, coming over the same ground, he saw a shadowy, thin spot of dirty fur under a ridge, which, after he had more closely examined, turned out to be the long-lost animal. it was completely exhausted and reduced to a skeleton, but still showed some signs of life. it had probably crawled in under some small opening in a ridge at the time of its being dropped, and so had escaped m----'s attention. as he found his ferret with the muzzle still on, it could not have procured either food or drink. the poor brute must have suffered agonies, showing _what horrible cruelty the practice of muzzling is_. m---- took his ferret home, fed it well, and inside of a month it was entirely restored, and just as good a ferret, in every respect, as ever. if ferrets are together, and are kept strictly without food for a length of time, they will devour one another quite readily, in lieu of better fodder. viii.--breeding and training. ferrets are rather difficult animals to raise in numbers--it requires a large amount of patience, great care, and scrupulous neatness, although when full grown they are very hardy. the writer's ferret breeding grounds consist of special farms, on which are erected numbers of small barn-like structures, each furnished inside with a dozen pens, and an aisle running through the middle. every pen is as large as a horse's stall, the boarding and other accessories are kept clean by vigorous scrubbing, the sawdust on the floor is changed once a day, and the pens and the ferrets are otherwise attended by experienced ferret men. here the ferrets are taught to do their work of killing and hunting by practical experiment on live rats. although it is in the nature of ferrets to hunt and kill rats, the same as it is for a bird to fly, yet we find a little extra course of training is necessary in both cases. it will not do to hunt with ferrets until they are at least seven months old. ferrets breed but once a year, and have from four to nine at a litter on the average--it is very rarely they have two litters a year. they are trained to the whistle by feeding them every time this instrument is used, so that after awhile they promptly respond. the ferret is ruled through his stomach. the time of the ferret's getting in heat is in march, nine weeks after which they breed. the male invariably takes hold of the female as if he were going to strangle her. the young are born without hair, and must, therefore, be kept warm. they have their eyes open in thirty days, and should be fed on as much milk as they want.[a] the male should be removed from the female before the littering, the symptoms of which are exactly like a cat or a dog, or else he will destroy the entire brood. care should be taken to have the female well supplied with food during the period of copulation, or else she may casually munch up the young herself, and the writer has lost many a pretty litter by this little habit of the unnatural mother. as in crops, there are years for raising ferrets which are more fortunate than others, some seasons having a fatal effect on the young ones. [a] they ought not to be handled before they are one month old. ix.--strength and bite. the great strength of the ferret is in the teeth, neck, and forefeet. one ferret can hold up eight times its own weight with its teeth. twenty or thirty ferrets when hungry will fasten their teeth in a piece of meat and can be picked up in this way and swung around without ever causing them to think of letting go. they will hang to an object which they have been provoked against with a persistence which would make a bill sykes bull-dog blush with shame. the only way to loosen their hold is to grasp them firmly around the neck with the pressure on the skull, and to shove them _towards_ the object, not _from_ it, for if you try the latter way you can pull for a day and a night without any perceptible result on the ferret. the bite of a ferret is not dangerous; they will only bite a human being out of mistake, because they don't see well in the daytime. they imagine you are kindly holding down some bit of meat for them to chew at, and they don't bite because they are at all viciously inclined towards you. of course you don't want to tease, annoy, or step on them, or you may find them loaded. if a ferret bites you, he will let go immediately, and you and the ferret both will quickly realize the mistake. x.--handling. ferrets should at first be handled by the back of the neck. the tail is the natural handle for lifting up a ferret, in the same degree that the ears are of a rabbit. the ferret should only be _lifted_ by the tail and should be handled by the back of the neck. after a wild ferret has been handled this way for some time he will get to be very tame and you can handle him in any way. he will get so that he will hop up in his pen at your approach and want you to play with and caress him, although it is never advisable to give him your perfect confidence, such as putting him to your face, etc. xi.--with cats and dogs. ferrets are easily kept with cats and dogs, and after a little training and discipline they will hunt together, the ferret being generally used to drive out the rats from the holes in a barn, etc., and the dog doing the killing. when they are first introduced to each other there will be a little sparring, _and the dog's master must strictly forbid his dog to touch the ferret or else the dog may kill it at the first wrestle_, but after the novelty of each other's appearance has worn off they will lie down together in one corner and be the best of friends, as i have witnessed scores of times. the writer has cats and ferrets on his farm that regularly feed and play together. ferrets should not be kept in a place with sick dogs or cats, as the disease will surely be transmitted to them. xii.--the ferret's advantages as a rat exterminator. ferrets have been brought forward, chiefly by the labors of the present writer, to be regarded within the last few years as domestic animals. there is certainly, yet, a great degree of prejudice against the ferret--a natural result of ignorance of its ways; but we firmly believe that the more it comes in contact with man, and is bred in captivity, the more readily it will be put by him in the division of common domestic animals, and he will, furthermore, find it his best remedy in rat extermination, making the latter worthies as scarce as the ordinary rat has made its black-complexioned cousin. for this latter purpose the ferret's most apparent advantages are as follows: _first._ there is nothing a rat is more afraid of, by nature, than a ferret, so that the rats are driven off by acute bodily fear. _second._ the body of the ferret, and its small head also, is remarkably flexible, thus enabling it to get into and drive out the vermin from their holes and breeding-places. _third._ when through hunting they do not stray off, but return to their pens, and wait there till they are put in. _fourth._ they devour the entire carcass of the rat, after killing it, and do not leave the slightest trace of it around. _fifth._ the ferrets can be trained to obey the whistle somewhat like a dog, and, by attaching a bell to their necks, they can always be traced to whatever part of the building they may stray. _sixth._ after they get acquainted, and have been handled for some time, they become affectionate pets, and can be fondled and caressed freely. _seventh._ they are very cleanly, peaceful, and nondestructive in other ways. xiii.--miscellaneous. ferrets are extensively used to drive out rabbits from their holes, although the laws are very stringent against this sport. for this purpose they are generally muzzled, which is a cruel and unnecessary practice. all that is required of the ferret is to drive and scare out--the rabbit being then caught or shot. a bell around the ferret's neck will scare off the rabbit immediately, because the ferret is slow, and the rabbit will hear him coming from a distance. a properly trained and handled ferret needs no harness of any kind. never muzzle a ferret for rats, as he may be savagely attacked where the rats are thick, and then be unable to defend himself. ferrets are muzzled by tying their jaws, so that they can not bite, with waxed cords, etc. there are also muzzles like those made for dogs, only fitted to the ferret's size. a writer in a certain new york paper has put the ferrets to a peculiar use, on account of their flexible bodies. the following is quoted from a supposititious interview with the present writer: "a gentleman purchased a ferret, and became greatly attached to it. to show me how well he had trained him since the purchase, he called pet (as he had dubbed him) to his side, and, dropping his pencil behind a large immovable desk, where it would be almost impossible to get it again, he merely said, "get it!" in an instant the ferret was off, and soon back again with the pencil in his mouth. the gentleman said that he had been of great service to him in that way, and he recommended them to all old ladies who are in the habit of losing thimbles and spectacles in out-of-the-way nooks and holes." we can not help remarking, that this certainly imputes a trifle too much intelligence to the animal. there seems to be a curious superstition regarding the ferret amongst the lower classes of people from england, ireland, and scotland, to the effect that the ferret possesses healing properties. i have numbers of people come to me with pans of milk, part of which they want the ferrets to lap up, reserving the other half for medicine. they firmly believe this an infallible cure for whooping-cough in children. on some days so many people come for this purpose, with milk in all sorts of vessels, that the ferrets would certainly have burst their buttons, if they had any, in trying to do justice to all of it. the people wait their turn patiently, and come any day i appoint to have the ferrets drink some of the milk. i have heard many miraculous accounts from them of mrs. so-and-so's baby who was down "that sick" with the whooping-cough, and the "doctors givin' her up, and she comin' to directly by a drop o' the milk the blessed little craythurs had been lappin' at; and it's the only rale rimedy yer can put intire faith in." the following is an extract from a kansas newspaper: "an old englishman is now traveling through the country with two pair of ferrets, with which he is making money by killing prairie-dogs. he has his pets in a wire cage, and, going to a ranch where there are indications of prairie-dogs, he offers to clean out the dog-town for cent per dog. the price appears so very small, that the ranchman does not hesitate to accept the offer. one ferret will clean out from twenty to fifty dogs before he tires out, or, rather, before he gets so full of blood of his victims that he can't work well. when one is tired out, a fresh one is put into service; and so on until the town is rid of dogs." [illustration] the rat. i.--the rat family and its varieties. the cynical, and, as he is generally acknowledged, villainous old rat, is a near kinsman of as innocent and peaceful a community as the squirrels, rabbits, and hares are, at least the natural histories unite in telling us that they all belong to the rodentia or gnawing animal family. the three great subdivisions of rat are the black, brown and water varieties. with the latter we have nothing to do, as it is an innocent field animal that never goes near man or his works, and is not properly one of the "whiskered vermin race" or rat breed. the dock rats belong to the brown brigade. ii.--rat history. regarding the rat's history and antecedents we are informed in some books on this subject, very positively, that the common or brown rat was brought from norway, while other naturalists insist with a pertinacity peculiar to the tribe that the animal originally comes from persia and india. we feel justified in believing with the majority that this kind of vermin has its origin in asia, that venerable continent of cholera, heathen-chinee, and old testament. but again, whatsoever the different opinions may be, it is certainly found that this species of rodent is distributed over every country on the face of the earth in a very near equal way, because every ship that leaves port takes in its cargo of rats just as regularly as it does its cargo of provisions and merchandise, and thus it can be readily seen how this delicate tender blossom is carefully though unwittingly transplanted. in this way the brown rat, which is now the strongly predominant rat party, was brought to new york and america in from england, which would doubtless give great pleasure to that part of the population with an anglo-maniac tendency and would probably reconcile them much more to this sect of vermin. in europe the latter made their appearance in , and then spread out to every inhabitable country. "for men may come and men may go, but i go on forever" would at the first glance seem to be the case with the rat tribe as well as with the musical brooklet of tennyson, yet the history of the rat nations is like unto the history of man--one clan waging a long and bitter war of conquest and extermination against the other until hardly any trace of the conquered but once mighty and ambitious race remains. the black or indigenous rat had things all its own way in north america as well as through the rest of the civilized earth, before the brown species' sweeping invasion, the former having been entirely subdued and are now very scarce. it was easy enough for the brown rats to do this, because they were bigger, bolder, and more ferocious. their multiplying powers, too, were sixteen times greater than the vanquished nation whose origin is shrouded in the darkest and most complete mystery. the writer has on several occasions observed a dark colored rat on vessels coming from brazil and other states of south and central america that was unlike any specimen of this animal he had remembered ever seeing before. it was of a deep bluish tint, had an abnormally long tail, very large ears, and sharp, fiery, bead-like eyes, that looked in the dark like small electric lamps. its agility and desperate nervousness was something marvelous, and its bump of destructiveness was largely developed also. this is probably a stray representative from some struggling colony of the dethroned black rat nation. small numbers of them are occasionally brought to our own shores by these vessels. the rats generally escape from the ships, whereupon, as soon as the vessel is about to sail away again, their places are promptly filled by their brown brethren. then the desolate black rats stray to the sewers of the city, where they are speedily overwhelmed and dispatched by members of the other faction, their inveterate foes and conquerors. iii.--the king's own rat catcher. although this black rat is inferior to the brown tribe in strength, size, and breeding powers, yet it must have been formidable also, for it was formerly thought necessary in england to institute the queer court position of rat catcher to the king. this was probably the case in other countries, too, but no records of it have been kept. according to an old historian this english rat catcher was a very dignified and mysterious individual, generally with gypsy blood in his veins, as it was thought necessary for him to know something of the dark science to properly perform his duties. he was attired in a rich manner, wearing a scarlet coat embroidered with yellow worsted on which were designed figures of rats and mice destroying wheatsheaves. he was looked at with much awe by the populace, as he turned out with a stately tread and great pomp, carrying a heavy staff with the insignia of his exalted office, whenever he took part in the royal pageants. this he did regularly, and it is also stated that he had an attendant, who never took part in the processions but who did the main part of the work, always with as much mystery as possible, upon the munificent stipend of tuppence a month, while the gentleman in the red coat superintended the job and received the glory--differing radically in this respect from the rat catchers of the present day. iv.--rat society, cannibalism, and friendship. animals of nearly all kinds are fond of each other's society, and in their natural wild state are always found in herds. the city rats live in tribes or colonies of from twenty-five to sixty individuals, in the winter more and in the summer less. in the cold weather, when they are idle or at rest, they lie in one heap for the purpose of mutually heating each other. they change from the bottom to the top and alternate their positions very frequently, so as to give each one an opportunity to enjoy the warmer place at the bottom. the warmer the locality the less individuals there are in a heap. these rats live peacefully enough amongst themselves when they have enough to eat, but the minute they are apprised of a slightly vacant feeling in the region of the stomach they become the most savage of animals. the mother rat is very careful and fussy about her young until they get to a certain age. when they have passed this period, however, and the mother should, on some bright day, feel a trifle hungry, she would as readily devour her offspring as the children would make a meal of her, thus returning the compliment neatly. individual cases of this kind occur also amongst the canine family, where dog-bitches have dined royally on a majority of their newly born pups. this tends to show that man is not the only intelligent animal who occasionally uses his fellow's carcass for fodder. cannibalism, in the rat's case, takes place generally when they are unable to get any other diet, but then they will devour one another with gusto, skin, tail, bones, feathers, and all; the stronger killing the weaker and sucking the blood first. hot blood is one of their greatest delicacies. the rats are born blind and naked, and their bodies are at this time of their life in a wobbly and unformed state. in this condition they would probably not be looked on by outsiders as things of beauty or delicate morsels, yet they are eagerly sought after by the old male rat to furnish him with his sunday dinner dessert. the male pigs, cats, ferrets, and rabbits also indulge in the same pastime. this is made still more of a highly prized food for the old man rat by its rarity, as the mother will fight to protect her young with the boldness and savageness of a lioness defending her cubs. she will even go to the pathetic extent of chewing up her young ones herself rather than let them fall into the hands of her oppressor. the rats have an arrangement amongst them similar to the old greek health law of killing off all sickly infants, that is, they eat their dead and infirm. this accounts for the fact that rats are never found at large sick, diseased, or disabled. although, as a rule, it isn't considered the correct thing with us to dine or breakfast from our departed fathers-in-law or uncles, yet in the present case, peculiar as it may seem, it is the only admirable trait about the rat. it forms a safeguard to man against their increase, yet we must add, in a hurry, that the check put upon their growth by their cannibalism is lamentably small when compared to their enormous multiplying powers, which surpass those of any other animal. the writer had a curious experience in regard to the rat's sociability and companionship. he had once confined in a cage a company of twelve big slaughter-house rats and happened to neglect feeding them one evening. the next morning he was rather astonished to find a well polished backbone, a stubby remnant of tail, and only eleven other rats, all huddled up together compactly, in the congregation. he then gave them some food to stop them from further feeding on each other, but they rudely refused this, and he was again surprised to see ten of the number make a combined attack, that looked as if agreed upon, upon one unfortunate but especially large sized rat. the latter tried desperately enough to hold his own against such fearful odds, with much horrible squealing and screaming among them and a great deal of severe scratching, dashing, and tumbling against the tin-lined sides and the wire roofing of the cage. in a few seconds they were ranged all around in a circle feeding ravenously on the remains of the brave but ill-fated warrior. the writer has noticed, in numerous instances where numbers of rats were kept together in a cage, that they would on some occasions, just as the humor seemed to strike them, prefer their relatives and brethren as food to anything else. it did not matter, either, what other form of diet or delicacy had been set before them. v.--multiplying powers. great quantities of rats are trapped and poisoned and hunted down by all animals larger than themselves; they are driven out of their homes, and systematically destroyed by paid vermin-destroyers; still all this seems to make but very slight impression on their numbers as they constantly pop up serenely from below just as if "sure pop" and rat-traps had only a mythic existence in fairy tales. they multiply prodigiously, the female breeding on the average about eight times a year, and having as many as fourteen at a litter, though in some instances this record has been badly beaten. a writer on this subject calculates that from a single pair of new york rats, living in moderately good circumstances, there will spring in three years' time a snug, happy little family of , rodents, including mother, father, children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, etc., and making due allowance for emergencies, accidents, and for a few hundred of them having been overpowered and used for food by the rest of this most worshipful company. he allows an average of eight young at a litter, half male and half female, the young ones having a litter at six months old. one cause of their being so prolific is that they flourish and breed as well on an abundance of swill, refuse, and garbage, as if they were carefully and tenderly fed three times a day. vi.--the rat's unabridged bill of fare. next to the ostrich, the rat possesses the most capacious and accommodating kind of stomach. he will swallow anything, digestible or otherwise, although he can appreciate good things with much intelligence, when he comes across them. his bill of fare ranges all the way up from tallow-candles and shingles to roast-partridge and old boots. rats are broadly omnivorous, and their food varies widely with their situation. they will eat soap, from the harsh and strong smelling washerwoman's kind to the richly perfumed and tinted toilet variety. with a vast and admirable toleration, they will feed upon bacon, sponges, ham, roots, flour, pork, roast-fowl, from boarding-house chicken to the microscopic quail; they will consume confectionery, potatoes, tomatoes, turnips, other vegetables, fruit of every description, from huckleberries to watermelons, raw, boiled, broiled, or fried fish, suet, eggs, bread, mutton, cheese, and butter. also raw, cooked, boiled, broiled, fried, smoked, or roast-beef, and they swallow with keen relish wines of all brands and vintages, beer, whisky, gin, and brandy, and evince a loving fondness for all grades of oil, from the dirtiest, coarsest whale's blubber to the finest olive. the rat is verily a most cosmopolitan glutton, and enjoys the favorite dishes of the various nations with much the same hearty appreciation throughout, hugely delighting himself with frog's hind-legs in france, pickled herrings in holland, potatoes roasted on the hearth in ireland, pumpernickel and sourkrout in germany, anise-seed, garlic, and olla podrida in spain, birds'-nest, sharks' fins, and meat furnished by the rat's own brethren in china, caviare and candles with the russians, roast-beef and ale in england, and pork-and-beans and peanuts with the people of a certain division of north america. drawing the line at a particular point in the rats' endeavors to obtain "belly timber," as sancho puts it, is an obsolete custom with them, for they devour putrid carrion, and human flesh, too, comes within this category, a further account of which will be found in the course of the next chapter. vii.--ferocity. the rat is dangerously ferocious when aroused, and is capable of being wrought up to a pitch of white heat fury. if he should be caught, his tail cut, his hair burnt, or if he should be wounded in any other way, but not sufficiently to weaken his system or momentary capacity, and he is then let loose, he will, through sheer madness and pure "cussedness," hunt up, fight, and overpower his brethren individually, or else put them to flight in a body, without much ado. in fact, when he is worked up to this state, he wouldn't hesitate for a moment to attack an entire army of rats, or of other far bigger and more terrible objects. in many cases like this, rats have often obligingly rid premises of their own kind. if the tortured or maimed rat is in a weak condition afterwards, he will be promptly overpowered by the other members of the rat community upon general principles. we are often regaled in the newspapers with "brutally frank" accounts of people leaving their babies alone at home, and, upon returning, finding them frightfully lacerated by rats, slowly and reluctantly escaping from the scene. in like manner, they have become bold enough to attack solitary invalids in houses, who had work enough to defend themselves from, and to drive off, these ferocious little beasts, driven on by hunger like the true wolves of the wilderness. living or dead, man is bound to furnish food for the rat; and in church-yards, where, ghoul-like, they choose the night as their time of appearing, they demolish the skeletons, littering the ground with remnants of the white, shining bones. viii.--rats in breweries, slaughter-houses, markets, stables, and barn-yards. the writer, in the course of his many rat-hunting expeditions, has had occasion to observe the rats in the lower cellars of many large new york breweries, where beer was about all they could get to live on. the sage old rodents, i observed, that had become accustomed to this diet--and had noted scientifically its queer effects in large doses on the rat system--indulged in a moderate way, and became aged, good-natured, and fat, like some jovial, bald-headed old merchant of the human type. the young rats, however, that had been recruited from the neighboring houses, would proceed immediately to paint a limited part of the town quite crimson with much hilariousness and quantities of beer, after which they could be killed or caught without much bother, lying around through the passage-ways in a beastly intoxicated state. here they lay, squealing faintly, and without concern, on their backs. we may find in this, if we care to look for it, a really valuable temperance lesson; for, when the rodents imbibed with moderation, they were of a strong and healthy race, and greatly looked up to in the gnawing community; but, when they quaffed too heavily, they became poets, and cared not for the affairs of this small earth, whereupon they were ignobly killed with a club by some base son of man. in slaughter-houses, they become so unconscious after having gorged themselves with a hearty dinner of hot blood and other warm offal, that hundreds of them could be picked up and massacred with but very faint resistance on the otherwise cautious rat's part. in old markets, rats yet do valuable service as sanitary inspectors, by demolishing the amount of refuse and garbage; but in other channels they are the very demons of destruction. they are especially fond of cheese; and in the cheese-dealers' stalls they go at their work of procuring this in a highly artistic way. they drill holes through the flooring beneath the largest cheeses, and then work their way up and eat into them, consuming pounds upon pounds in a single night. the men sometimes find a large cheese with the interior scooped entirely out, leaving the rind, in hollow mockery, simply an empty, worthless shell. in the butchers' shops, the rats are connoisseurs in the quality of meat, always seeking out the primest portions of the beef in preference to any others. around barn-yards they destroy the grain, oats, and every species of fowl, from the smallest to the largest specimen. in going at their work of destruction, they spring upon the neck of the victims, and pierce and bite it through with their teeth. they then suck the blood first, or else eat into the flesh as they would into a cheese, often contenting themselves with the blood and leaving the carcass. in stables the harness and the axle grease, even, suffice to make a square meal for them in default of better fodder; they also make the horses frantic by fiendishly gnawing at their hoofs. ix.--rats as wine drinkers. in a neat and cleverly written little book on spain, it is observed that "in the wine cellars the bungs in the heads of the butts containing sweet wines had little square pieces of tin nailed over them. this was to protect them from the rats who otherwise get upon the edge of the butt, and lick the sweet wine which oozes through, then begin to nibble the bung, and go on, if they are let alone, till out rushes the wine in a stream." the effects of the rats' ingenuity seems to bear rather a kind intention toward his two-legged brother, described in the following: "this happened not long ago to a large _tonel_ of the finest pedro jimenez, which, was stored with others in the ground-floor of a house, the owner of which was away in seville, with the key, which he would trust to no one, in his pocket. one morning out came the bung, long nibbled by rats, and, about three hundred gallons of the wine ran out into the gutter. it was a queer sight, people rushing to dip it up with any vessel that came to hand, some of them presently using mops, and the small boys, who had found it was sweet, and lapped up as much as they could get at, lying around the street in various stages of intoxication," after the manner of our frisky friends, the joyous rats of the brewery cellars. x.--destructiveness. the rat's bite, and especially that of old rats, is very poisonous, and its teeth are finely adapted for severe, quick, sharp, and deep cutting. it forms an urgent natural necessity for them, owing to the peculiar structure and growth of their teeth, to keep them incessantly working. the idea never comes to the rats of a possible breaking off of their tusks in attacking such flexible objects as bricks or lead, and the writer has seen cases in which the rats cheerfully went to work gnawing off corners of bricks and granite, in a persistent manner, so that they could make an opening large enough for their admission into a house. nothing is exempt from their merciless teeth. they mutilate the woodwork on the valuable drawing-room chair just as readily as they would the dingiest, most plebeian sort of washtub, and they make sad havoc of upholstery of all kinds. they seem to have an especially lasting grudge against the transmission of knowledge, for books are gnawed and mutilated by them in immense quantities. they gnaw paper, from legal documents of the highest value (and many an important writing has been hopelessly destroyed by their agency), to the most worthless treatise on "four-fingered mike; or, the terror of hoboken." our clothing, shoes, hat-gear, etc., is turned out by the rats in a pitifully dilapidated condition. they also eat into lead pipes for the purpose of obtaining water, which it is hard for them to do without, although we have found that they can be without food for a much greater length of time. when the rats are pressed for drink on board ship, they lay low in the day-time, but in the evening they stealthily come out on the deck from the hold, in a long row, single file, in order to sip the moisture from the rigging. by examining the fire marshal's report of new york city from to , we learn that rats have been the cause of fires during years, making an average of five fires a year. this is on account of the rats' strong propensity for nibbling matches. in the same report is a warning against the loose and careless manner in which matches are left in pantries and closets infested by rats and mice with a fondness for this kind of diet. the great attraction for the rodents in the matches is the phosphorus, which these useful articles contain in abundance, and which the rats are able to scent out from a great distance. xi.--rats as food. if you were lunching on something similar in taste to roast partridge, and some one told you, after you had finished, that it was only domestic house rat, your interior machinery would probably be disarranged--to such an extent is the bare mention of the word rat repugnant to our senses and stomachs. in the course of an experiment, the writer has cooked and boiled rats, and has found that their meat is of a very tender quality, and of a white, inviting appearance, withal, although he never went the length of partaking of it. our objection to the rat's serving as food is too deeply rooted and profound to be removed, although there are a great many animals whose flesh forms our staple food that have habits much dirtier, and who do not nearly live upon as cleanly a diet (and this is a broad statement) as our despised house rat. from this eulogium we gently but firmly exclude the rat gentry of the sewers. we must give the chinese credit for having overcome the effete european prejudice against the rat as food. seemingly, it is the most highly prized dish that the sons of leprosy have in their bill of fare. the crews of the american and english vessels lying in canton harbor used to amuse themselves greatly in catching a rat, and then holding the kicking animal by the tail so that the celestials in the junks alongside could get a good view of it. the mongolians would then get very much excited, utter exclamations of a gobbling, clucking sound, and as soon as the spluttering, frightened rat was flung from the ship an uproarious scramble followed, that made them look like so many monkeys quarreling over a cocoanut. a writer tell us, in a well-written magazine article, that he has lived fifteen years in china, and has had "experience at public banquets, social dinners, and ordinary meals, in company with all classes of people, but was exceedingly surprised at never having seen cat, dog, or rat served up in any form whatsoever." we are sorry the gentleman neglects to state _whether he'd know the difference_. the odds are twenty to one that he wouldn't; because, as he knows himself, the chinese are excellent cooks, and can prepare a good meal from what in other countries would be thought offal. he makes the admission, however, that "there are some peculiar people in china, as well as elsewhere--credulous and superstitious--some of whom believe that the flesh of dogs, cats, and rats, possesses medicinal properties. for instance, some silly women believe that the flesh of rats restores the hair; some believe that dog meat and cat meat renews the blood, and quacks often prescribe it. what the chinese really do eat does not vary much from that found on american tables; but there are certain dishes not on our programmes that are considered delicacies by everybody--such as edible bird's-nests and sharks' fins." to this we can add conscientiously, and upon weighty private authority--fried split rat, stewed dog, and curried cat with rice. in this place it would be appropriate of us to say something of the peculiarities of chinese food--of the way the dogs and cats are carefully bred for the palates of the chinese epicures; how these former animals are invitingly exposed for sale in the marketplaces; and we would willingly describe the methods of the dog and cat breeders, and the manner of curing and cooking the rats--but want of space forbids. we will merely state that there are many cases in which rats were eaten much nearer home than china; but, as the persons undertaking the experiment were slowly starving to death, and would have quickly eaten each other rather than accept the jolly alternative of dying by hunger, these instances are not of a remarkable nature, and are consequently unworthy of note in the present annals. xii.--rat nests. rats are impartial in their building sites--they have contentedly built their nests in the wretched and filthy peasant's hovel and in the most palatial and luxurious residences of kings, and a human habitation must indeed be in the extreme of squalor, dirt and decay where they are not found sprawling. shakespeare pithily expresses this in the "tempest:" "in few they hurried us aboard a bark, bore us some leagues to sea, where they prepar'd a rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd, nor tackle, sail nor mast--_the very rats_ instinctively had quit it." the rat living in a house prefers warm, soft quarters, and invariably gets within comfortable distances of stoves, ranges, heaters, steam-pipes, etc. this is a very dangerous habit, because his nest is always constructed of inflammable materials. at times he also lugs matches into it, and then if the steam-pipes should become overheated, the matches blaze up and spread the flames. we have read in the newspapers of a great many fires afterwards found to have been caused in this way. the rat's nest is made of black and colored silk, of linen, woolen and cotton materials, bits of canvas, dirty rags, fur, silk stockings, and antique lace of much value jumbled together with string and crumpled paper. in one instance we knew of a rat to make use of a building material more out of the ordinary run than these, as it consisted simply of fifteen hundred dollars in greenbacks that had been put under the carpet of a room for safe keeping, and which was afterwards found in mutilated fragments, thatched together, forming this queer old mercenary rat's abode. the rat uses his nest too as a storehouse, and here he lays by quantities of edibles for a rainy day. the writer came across a nest, once upon a time, the sole building materials of which were those undergarments, both masculine and feminine, fashioned so slenderly, but which we dare not mention. this nest contained a peck or so of beans, though in the house where it was built beans had not been stored nor used, the writer found out, for at least three months. out of doors or in fields the rats' nests are built of hay, leaves, shavings, and wool. the rat is, besides his other praiseworthy qualities, an inveterate old thief, and in decorating his dwelling picturesquely he becomes quite lavish, as gold rings, diamonds, jewels of every value, and gold and silver watches, that had been missed, were found in rat nests. here they were generally discovered set off with much taste by a piece of salt bag. in one rat's nest i found a set of false teeth in perfect condition. the rat could not have wanted to use them himself, because they were several sizes too big for him. he probably wanted them for a tool-box or jewel-case or some other equally useful object. the writer remembers reading in some odd book of a good-natured person who had discovered a family of young rats in a piano that stood in a room for some time unfrequented. they had made themselves so much at home in the interior of the instrument that the owner was unwilling to disturb them by playing upon it. the female rat probably wanted to get her young to some safe place away from her liege lord, and had succeeded in gnawing up through the leg of the piano. she had brought with her, in which to build a nest, a dirty striped stocking big enough to have belonged to some distinguished dime museum fat lady. xiii.--the rat's musical talents and eyesight. rats love sweet, soft, melodious tones, and a great many experiments have been made in taming rats thereby, but only with indifferent success upon the sharp-witted rodents, in spite of all the pretty stories to the contrary in the reading-books. so high is the rat's musical understanding rated, that there is a proverb among the people that rats immediately disappear from the house as soon as a young lady begins taking lessons on the piano. a mouth-harmonica seems to be the rat's favorite musical instrument, and its gentle strains exert the most power over him, far more than the tones of any other instrument. if the music be soft, mild, and pathetic, the rat will listen and come very near, for he is a very susceptible sort of beast, and, if closely observed, tears of sorrow, or of sad and tender reminiscence, will be seen coursing slowly down his cheeks. but if, on the contrary, the music be harsh, shrill, and discordant, such as would most likely be ground out by beginners, or if it proceed from a brass instrument, or drum, or if it be occasioned by a shotgun report, or explosion, it may drive the impressionable animals from places where they had been used to frequent. if, however, one is unsuccessful in trying to scare off the rats by noise at the first inning, a repetition will be of no avail. the rat will take up his nest in all and any out-of-the way places, as he shuns the light and lives wholly in the dark and gloom. this is the cause of his poor sight; he can hardly see at all in the daytime, and in the night a little better. if you should meet with a rat by day, looking square in your face, depend upon it he isn't able to see you at all, in spite of the pretty gleam in his black eyes. his minutely acute ears, however, do him good service instead of eyes, so that he has very little occasion to miss the latter at all. the rat is generally very timid, and extremely nervous, the slightest disturbance repelling him and making him shrink into obscurity and shadow. yet it is his great peculiarity that he can adapt himself to any extremity of climate or description of place; he is found making himself at home in hotels, factories, public gardens, and other haunts of loud and constant noise, bustle, and confusion. xiv.--rats as moralists. the lord in making the rats is imputed to have done so to have them serve as scavengers for his wandering, wasteful tribes of children. but in our own day, as the majority of us do not wander, nor have wandered continually for the last two or three thousand years or so, and have slapped up many supposedly permanent villages like london, new york, or paris, the restless, ambitious rat took into his head not to limit himself to such dirty kind of work exclusively. he then formed the resolution, and further carried out the purposes of his creator by taking upon himself the philosophic office of keeping man's pride in check. this he did by literally chipping a large proportion of the gilt off man's earthy grandeur, and by destroying his works and belongings at every possible opportunity, with right hearty good-will and much perseverance. "therefore," says a writer, "whatever man does, rat always takes a share in the proceedings. whether it be building a ship, erecting a church, digging a grave, plowing a field, storing a pantry, taking a journey, or planting a distant colony, rat is sure to have something to do in the matter; man and his gear can no more get transplanted from place to place without him, than without the ghost in the wagon that 'flitted too'." xv.--rats in the good old days, and the modern rat superstitions. in the merry days of old, rats were regarded as undisputed signs of witchcraft, and even scholars acknowledged this--at least they were compelled to, by the help of a blazing pile of faggots, or similar mild means known only to the good old times. what caused this belief among the people was, that an animal appearing to them so small should be the cause of such intense and continual annoyance to them. there was no barrier through which the rat could not effect its way to get at a certain object, thanks to its wonderful powers of gnawing. it was so omnivorous, ferocious, and destructive, that the people endowed the rat with superhuman qualities, and regarded it as a true child of the devil, put upon this earth to be always pestering them. in regard to the rat's superhuman qualities, it appears to have certainly displayed more reason and acuteness, fighting in the daily battle of life, than any one of these thick-skulled humans could lay claim to. it was looked on with a great and most unreasonable aversion and loathing, born of superstition and fear, and which we find vehemently expressed in all the ancient books on the subject. this feeling, we cannot help believing, is not dead yet, according to the astounding anecdotes brought forth and widely copied in a great many of our american newspapers. the facts and data given in these learned articles about the rat's size, weight, and habits, in general, would make his hair stand on end with horror if he were to read them. as a matter of fact, the ordinary brown rat, which we find everywhere near man, is a pretty black-eyed, softly robed, and delicately constructed little animal; and although his fur may be plainly colored, like the plumage of the sparrow amongst birds, yet it is of the finest texture, and, when possible, is always kept scrupulously clean. in solitary captivity he is continually sitting on his haunches, cleaning his fur like a cat; and the writer has found, by actual experiment, the weight of twelve full-grown, well-fed new york city rats to amount to exactly twelve and a half pounds. formerly, in european countries, there was a general belief in the existence of strange and mysterious relations between this great slimy monster and the high-priests of witchcraft and sorcery. it was thought that this was the animal best adapted to carry out the diabolical plots of his satanic majesty. in one part of norway, the peasants used devoutly to hold a fast day once a year, trusting thereby to get rid of the pests of rats and mice. they had a latin exorcism which they used on these occasions, beginning with the words, "exerciso nos pestiferos, vermes mures," etc. anything a rat left its trace upon was an omen of ill to the owner; and when by any chance a rat was ever seen on a cow's back the poor animal was doomed to pine slowly to death in consequence. in ireland it was believed that premises could be rid of rats by reciting a rhyme over their holes, which was commonly called "rhyming rats to death." xvi.--review of the rat, and conclusion. but since these times the people have succeeded in getting rid of a great quantity of superstition attached to the subject. it has also been learned gradually that the actions of the rat are prompted much more by natural than by diabolical instinct. however timorous and innocent looking we have found the rat to be upon impartial observation, yet his is a case of wolf in sheep's clothing, for he is the one of the whole brute creation that does the most undermining damage in every way to the homes, workshops, counting-rooms, store-houses and cultivated fields and acres of man. the rat is also at times his very ferocious personal enemy. the rat's code of morals will be found rather deficient, as we have tried to explain in the preceding rambling remarks. in fact, there are condensed in this small animal all the vices of the animal world. we have shown him in the pleasant light of a cannibal briefly making an end of all family ties by transferring his relatives down his stomach. we have traced a faint outline of his great food greediness and his intemperance in strong drink, which is pretty near up to the human standard. we have pictured his strong liking for the hot blood of man and his utterly lacking an organ of veneration, digging up man's bones from their final resting-place to have them serve as food. the strongest weapon the rats have against man, ranking even above their wonderfully constructed teeth, are their prodigious multiplying powers, "and," says richardson, "if the rats were suffered to increase in numbers, unchecked, the time would not be far distant when the entire globe would but suffice to furnish food for their rapacious appetites to the exclusion of the human race." the only way man can hold his own against their mighty ravages and prevent his whole social organization from being undermined by them, is to wage a steady and unrelenting war, by the help of his own arts and the animals specially assigned by nature to do service for him as police, against the most bloodthirsty, cruel, and acute of enemies. rat extermination. there are four distinct methods of rat extermination, viz.: . traps. . poisons. . cats, dogs, and ferrets. . human rat-catchers. we will first give some practical hints on i.--traps. the rat is by no means one of the least intelligent of quadrupeds, and there is one thing we feel solid about--when he knows you really want to trap him he'll do his level best to avoid your kind intentions. there are shoals of ingenious rat-traps with plenty of mechanism in them which are certainly good as long as you don't plainly advertise them to the rats, which is about equal to saying "look out, rats, this is a trap for you, with a bait!" after you have put out this charitable notice nary a rodent will you catch. we will now show how most simple people, after catching a lone specimen, give themselves "dead away," to speak classically, to all the rats there are in the neighborhood. get a trap, no matter of what shape, material or brand--but by all means get one that doesn't let the rat out again after he has been once caught. bait it with anything nice and tempting, and put it near the rat-hole, just where they come out, any time before you go to bed. in the morning you probably find you have caught a rat--maybe a big, grizzled old fellow with a scabby tail, or else a young one, half frightened to death--anyway it _is_ a rat, and a real live one at that, and you can forthwith proceed to kill him. now clean your trap and smoke it out. bait it again with the same care and, hundred to one, you find--_no rat_. the mystery of it is this: the first rat that came out of the hole on the first night saw you had put down something for him, so he sniffed the dainty bait and remarked under his breath that he was a devilish lucky dog and that he had struck a superior sort of a free lunch all to himself. with that he entered--the trap snapped harshly and cruelly, and the nervous little animal became frightened and sought to escape from his seeming abode of luxury. he couldn't get out, squealed long and plaintively, and worked hard against the sides of his prison. bye and bye all the other rats came out to see the cause of all the racket. after investigating they find their young friend has been dolefully sold, and together make and keep a vow to steer clear of your traps ever afterwards. this is why you catch but one rat and no more; for a much more stupid and less nervous animal than a rat is would keep away from a similar arrangement in the future. we shall now try the experiment over again, but in a different fashion. suppose we select a big round trap with falling doors at the sides and a hole on top. first be sure that the doors lift up and fall down very easily. if the bottom of the trap is of wire place it on sawdust, so that the rats are comfortable in it. put the trap _away_ from the hole, near the wall of the cellar, if in winter near the warmest place, always in a dark spot. as our friend likes comfort so much, put a bag over the trap, so that he can find the falling doors easily. get some rags scented with about fifteen drops of either oil of rhodium, oil of carraway, oil of aniseed, or a mixture of these oils. first tie a string around them and swab them around the rat-holes, then drag them on the ground near the wall, to the place where the rat-trap is and rub the rags well over it, then put them in. have some nice tempting bait in the trap, either carrots, meat, broiled bacon, or cheese--anything fresh will do--but be careful to put in enough of it. if the trap is placed as we have above directed the rat will get in and not try to escape. _make the trap as much unlike a trap and as much like a natural hiding-place as possible._ if this is done, it is highly probable you will have your cage chock-full of rats the next morning. it is very seldom this fails, but if it should not succeed the first night proceed as follows: put the trap exactly as i have told you, with the exception to tie up the sliding doors. let it stand there until the rats have eaten it out several times, replacing the bait. after the rats get used to frequent the place and think they have a "soft snap" on you, let down your falling doors again and you have them all! after all is said and done, the most practical of all rat-traps is my little "special steel trap," which catches one rat at a time, but its cost is so reasonable that you can have a dozen of them for the price of one of the big wire ones. it is an utter impossibility for the rats to avoid being caught if the traps are properly placed, and it can, with ease, be so nicely adjusted that the gentlest touch of a rat's paw will insure his immediate capture. and when mister rat has put down that little paw of his he is as securely held as if he were nailed to the floor. i have over ten thousand of these traps in use in my professional rat-exterminating operations and sell barrels of them. the larger the space to be covered the more traps are required, and, where it is possible, remove your rat as soon as caught. place the traps in the natural run of the rats; around swill-barrels, along the walls, etc. its chief practical beauty is its innocent appearance, as there is nothing about its placid surface which tells the rats of its unerring aim. with every trap we furnish a chain-attachment and fastener; the latter is for the purpose of securing it to the flooring and prevents the rats from dragging the trap. as this special steel trap is a boon to large institutions, ships, shops, factories, stores, hotels, office-buildings, flat-houses, warehouses, private dwellings, slaughter-houses, etc., etc., i quote the following prices on it, which are net: per dozen $ . per hundred . ii.--poisons. the common rat poisons are arsenic, strychnine and paris-green. these are put up by enterprising people under a multitude of suggestive names, without specifying the kind of poisons used, however, or even a warning of their being poisonous, as the law implicitly directs. there is, indeed, a great deal of criminal negligence in the way these poisons are put upon the market, as in some the proportion of poison is so great that it would kill an elephant--whereas it should be exactly graded to the rat's capacity. the proportion of arsenic in one very-much-advertised rat-poison now in use, as analyzed by dr. otto grothe, a brooklyn chemist, consists of . per cent. pure arsenic and . per cent. admixtures (coal, etc.). would-be suicides and murderers have made use of these poisons extensively. poisons in powdery form--such as arsenic and strychnine--are liable, very easily, indeed, to get mixed up with food, and have in that way been a powerful death-dealing agency. their peculiar effect on the rats is to allow them to get over-doses, causing violent vomiting, followed by complete failure to kill or drive out. the phosphoric paste, the "sure pop" brand of which is very carefully manufactured by the present writer, is free from all of these objections, as it is in salve form and very hard to be accidentally mixed up with edibles of any kind. it is impossible for the rats to receive overdoses of it; and the phosphorus has the effect of burning and irritating them internally and forcing them to run for fresh air. arsenic and strychnine rat-poisons are usually prepared in such heavy quantities that the rats prematurely die in the holes. on the other hand, the amount of actual poisonous matter in this "sure pop" phosphoric paste has been exactly proportioned to the rat's system, making the amount of poison very slight. there is no secret at all in the compounding of this preparation, but it requires much experience and study of the rat's nature, preferences and habits to make it so that it will work with proper effect. the utmost daintiness is also required in the handling of all its ingredients. we have practically shown on page how the smell of phosphorus is the most powerful of attractions known to the rat, and how it will operate when everything else fails. iii.--dogs, cats and ferrets. the claims of cats as one of the rat remedies we shall have to dismiss in very short order, as the exceptional cases in which they do good work are altogether too few and far between. the only domestic animal which really possesses value in _hunting_ rats is the ferret, as, by reason of its india-rubber joints, it can pursue its prey home. any terrier--no matter what variety--having a fair amount of intelligence can be broken in with ferrets, so that your ferret can do the hunting out and the dog--at the proper moment--can do the killing. the fox-terrier is by far the best ratting-terrier. he is quick, understands and remembers what is taught him, is full of ambition, and readily learns to regard the ferrets as his partners in the rat-hunt. iv.--human rat-catchers. the directions given with each of the remedies advocated by me are so plain that anyone can successfully put them into use. where the rats have got altogether too thick, or where they hold possession of a place in such a way that there appears no clue to dislodging them, it is quite advisable to call in an expert. to this effect i have perfected a regular system of rat-exterminating in which the remedies i mention in this book are systematically applied--under my own superintendence--by a corps of experts. through this improved system i am enabled to take contracts to exterminate rats (and also other vermin) from any kind of building in any city or town in the united states, providing the job is large enough. correspondence on the subject given prompt attention. the origin of the ferret. with hints to darwin. we have stated, in the first chapter of this book, that the verb "ferret" is derived from the animal of the same name, but many _savants_, and even "plain people," as lincoln said, have cudgeled their brains trying to trace from whence the _animal_ has derived its name. after long and tedious delving into histories and musty tomes having even the slightest bearing on the subject, we are able herewith to enlighten these gentlemen. for this illumination they have long been waiting, we have no doubt, with the utmost anxiety and impatience. this requires us to go at length into the matter, and entails upon us the writing of the ferret's development from prehistoric times until merged into the animal of to-day, with its present shape, instincts, and habits. in the course of the essay we also prove conclusively that the animal originally comes from america. many scientists will no doubt deem it peculiar to find us using many modern and untechnical terms in the following history, but let them rest assured that if we were to make use of our extensive scientific knowledge of the subject it would compel them to hunt up all the lexicons that had ever been compiled! in the very good and very old days before our present reckoning, when mankind sported tails and was protected against the wind and weather by a long, hairy covering, and when both animals and man had a language of their own--in those times it was that two fair-sized buck martens, one of the beech and the other of the stone species, stood on the southern point of what is now called cape farewell, in greenland, longitude ° ´ east, latitude ° ´ north. they trembled violently from excitement, because they had just finished a friendly set-to of rounds, lasting hours minutes, new york time, and which both had so far survived. the referee, an old good-natured fox, saw with his keen off-eye that there was no more fight in either of them, and pronounced the battle a _draw_, telling them to try it again on some future day, whereupon he speedily took his departure, as he was very busy just at that time umpiring base-ball games. the contestants then shook forepaws, a custom which has survived the centuries, and after a little cold water and rest had restored them they mended their broken friendship and made solemn pledges not to try harming each other any more. they further made a bargain to set up a business firm, which meant in those days, as it does now, division of spoils. in the language of that time the beech marten was called _ver_, and his partner, the stone marten, _rect_, therefore the firm was called "the ver and rect bill-of-fare improving co." this title explains part of their object in making the trip described in the following pages. the other agreements were to do it in perfect harmony, and at the end of their pilgrimage to stick forever by that particular diet that had suited them best. they were both very glad of their compact, because each one had formed a high opinion of the other's powers evidenced in the pummeling of one another's ribs. talking things over leisurely, they found themselves getting hungry, and as their stomach was and is yet the mainspring of their actions, they resolved to start immediately on the expedition. after they had traveled hours due south-east (a direction which they instinctively followed all through their wanderings) they had the good luck to stumble upon a small but very fat pig, snoring comfortably on the banks of a river, known then as the atlantic river, but since developed into the ocean of the same name, a further account of which is given further on. ver and rect found the stream about the size of our present hudson as it flows by weehawken. the partners accordingly killed the pig without much bother, ate it, and took a short nap (for those times) of three days, and after waking they stretched themselves, hopped around, and took a drink from the river, but no sooner had they swallowed a little of the water than they commenced spitting, spluttering, and twisting their faces into all shapes, as the water was very salt and brackish. eating the very fat pig and drinking the salt water had not agreed with ver and rect, and they put down the following on the tablets of their minds for future reference: "fat pig bad feed--salt water ditto." hence all their descendants, right up to this day, never indulge in pork or use salt at all. [illustration] ver, who wore spectacles, then took the reckoning, and found they had just traveled prehistoric miles, quite a distance for those days. the firm resolved lazily to start again, and after yawning a good deal, and lying in the sun a little while longer, they still felt unpleasant fat-pig and salt-water sensations. they paddled across the atlantic river, and by the time they had arrived on _the other side_ they had no objection to lunching again, and as fortune seemed to favor them, they spied in the distance a very big woodchuck. after an exciting chase, ver and rect captured him, and at first devoured him with vim. the poor martens, however, were doomed to disappointment, for when they had bolted their prize and had taken their usual nap of three days, they woke up with great pains in their much-abused interior departments. they thought the woodchuck business over carefully and made this inward memorandum: "woodchuck may be very good, but we prefer lead-pipe." four days after the feast of the woodchuck, wandering on rather discontentedly, they were suddenly delighted by a wonderful change in the climate, that had previously been harsh and cold, but was now mild and radiant. birds were singing from beautiful trees, nanny and billy goats, and sheep were gamboling about cheerfully. lions and wolves were doing a thriving business, and, just like the bulls and bears of to-day, were all living on the poor lambs. the martens wandered about a mile through this happy land, and in course of time, bethinking themselves of their sacred mission, they fell to work on a billy goat, who was slain, after a hard fight, as an offering to their great god, the stomach. it is evidenced by our records that this goat must have been a huge animal, for ver and rect lived three days on his carcass, although at the end of this time they felt rather sick. the entry in their inward journal was as follows: "disgusted with billy goat; hopes of finding our steady feed very gloomy." rect began to feel discouraged, but ver cheered him up, saying unto him: "rec', i have a feeling within my bones which tells me our promised land of good feed draws near. brace up thy suspenders, and let us be of good mien and travail onward, for there is no philosopher on earth of a cheerful temper with his belly unhinged." verily, after a two days' journey, they observed, to their joy, right on their road, a great mountain overgrown with timber and underbrush. upon reaching it, they found it full of game of all kinds, some of which they began to attack immediately. among others they caught a little, delicate gray rabbit, and after critically tasting its flesh, were delighted with its flavor. they thought now they had found a solid bill-of-fare material, and made arrangements for staying in the place by digging themselves comfortable beds under the roots of a big tree. there was such an abundance of these delicious rabbits that ver and rect concluded they had enough of a wandering life, and that the mission of the "bill-of-fare improving co." was fulfilled. they called the land, on account of the great number of these little animals, _engelland_, meaning the land of the engels, or angels, at present england. having kept bachelor's hall for awhile under the big tree, they formed the acquaintance of some of their rich neighbors, who were very kind to them, and whom the martens found to be relatives of theirs. to ver and rect's former pastimes of hunting, eating, drinking (cold water), and sleeping, they now added courting. ver acquainted himself with a pretty young miss weasel, a blonde, and paid her attention, and rect took fancy to a handsome and stately miss mink, a brunette. in two hours after their first courtship--the thing was done quicker in those days--ver and rect were married men. they begot children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, who in their turn intermarried into the families of the sables, the fitches, and the ermines, but all the descendants of ver and rect went under the name of ver-rects, afterwards verrects, until it has been gradually mellowed into our present _ferrets_. the ferrets now lived in the woods of old engelland, hunting and eating rabbits and enjoying themselves with all their families on this only ingredient of their bill-of-fare, which ver and rect thought of making the permanent ferret food by law. of course the ferrets grew into the most expert of rabbit-hunters, and they have retained this ability to the present day. never after they had been in engelland did ver or rect or their descendants subsist on pigs, woodchucks, or billy-goats. one morning a great accident happened, which brought them a different kind of food, consisting of a large army of black rats. the way it happened was this: the earth on which we now live, and which swings around at a pretty good gait on its own axle, broke it right near the north pole and all the waters spilled out there. they overflowed the atlantic river miles on each side, and thus formed our present atlantic ocean. the high mountain of england was just saved from the water, making it an island, and just then , live rats swam on shore to save themselves from drowning. the ferrets killed a few of these rats to experiment upon, and were more than delighted with the tender meat, ver and rect making the ferret's bill-of-fare for all ages chiefly consist of rabbits and rats. sometimes the ferrets went rabbit and sometimes rat-hunting, and were as expert in the one as in the other, and so it is that the ferret of to-day occupies itself, by the mandates of its forefathers, ver and rect, in the vigorous hunting throughout all lands of the rat and the rabbit. from whence the rats came before they arrived in england will be found in the next chapter. the continuation of the former chapter. our rats are from china. the proof of this will be found in more particularly observing the rat's looks, vices and nature, the manner in which he carries his (pig)tail, and further, the great love of the chinaman for him. we contend also that the chinaman and the rat are relatives, for it can be said of both, as it has been said of one, "that for ways that are dark, and for tricks that are vain, the heathen chinee is peculiar." so we say positively that the rat is chinese, and there is no record that can prove the contrary. the rats were kept locked up in that great empire of solid fences before they showed themselves to the other countries of the earth. forty years before the great ver and rect battle, , big rats, with their tails out straight, like real chinese pig-tails, concluded to make an exodus out of the heavenly territory, under the leadership of big chiefs. they didn't want to leave particularly, but they were afraid of being starved out altogether, or else murdered for food by the chinese army. after the rats had put themselves in battle array, and were duly formed in procession, the big chiefs, who were distinguished from the others by their big red noses and muscular forms, held a council. at the end of a three days' session, during which a great many speeches had been made and a good deal of fighting had been going on, a very old political rat-boss arose and made a proposition. his speech was about as follows: "honored rats, and fellow-citizens: i have been a rat for a good many years, and don't want to change my business. i must say i like being a rat. but if we are hacked up in soup, or starved out completely, i have my doubts of our staying powers. countrymen and lovers, this is what we are threatened with, and we must move. where to? is the question that arises, and i have thought it over. the climate is hot to suffocation and very unhealthy here; let us trust to luck and go west, as a friend of mine said on a similar occasion. 'go west, young man, go west,' i say unto you now, and i advise you to do so as speedily as possible." this speech was received with "tremendous applause" for the old rat waxed very eloquent, and the "go west" resolution was passed unanimously. an amendment was put in, changing the course to north-west, for the meeting was held during such hot weather, that some of the radicals wanted to start out immediately and settle on the north pole. they were promptly overruled, of course, and the , rats, including males and females, wandered on slowly in their chosen direction, increasing on the road to a wonderful extent. the council concluded to hold a thorough count or census of rats, and each male rat, it was provided, should not be bashful about coming forward and giving the true number of his whole family--no doctoring of the returns allowed. after the count was completed, all the rats over and above the original amount, , , agreed to stay in the country they had arrived at. the originals kept on moving towards the north-west, but the others filled up every section of the earth they passed through. the rats made friends with neither man nor animal on their journey. first they made a stop in a state where all the owls--although they were countrymen of the rats, having emigrated from china--fell upon them, and there was a pitched battle, the rats afterwards hiding themselves in their holes under ground after losing a great many in dead and wounded. one day they agreed to make an excursion out of the line of their route and so take in egypt. in a few weeks they here ate up all the corn from the fields, stealing and hiding away anything edible, and quite creating a panic, but always fighting shy of the daylight. we read in the histories of a great locust plague in egypt, about this time, but on this point we have a revelation to make. the locust was just as innocent of this crime as it is of building the brooklyn bridge--_it was the rats that did it_. when the rats arrived in greece they scored a signal victory, because it was there that they extirminated a whole nation--the mice--and the former have strongly held this country ever since. we are authentically informed, by reference to our own private rat historian's notes of this trip, that the first place the rats met their great enemy, the dog, was in ancient rome, where the dogs were put on them by man with much success, and here the rats could get no firm foothold. this caused them a roundabout journey north, and when they thought they had pretty well established themselves in ancient gaul, now france, they were raided by a strange tigerish kind of animal which proved afterwards a lasting antagonist of theirs--the cat. the poor rodents found here the other enemies they had encountered on the road, the owl and the dog, who were always urged on fiercely by man. while the rats were struggling along in france, the land was convulsed by an earthquake, causing the atlantic river's banks to be overflowed. this submerged the land on which the rats were, and as they all could swim they headed their course for england, the nearest dry land. it was here the ferrets joined man, dogs, cats and owls, but the more the rats were hunted, the more acute and crafty they got to be, until they found out innumerable hiding-places and ways of preservation, so we have them still with us to-day. we thus close our story of research, through which we have shown america as the birthplace of the ferret, china of the rat, and england as the first country employing ferrets for rat-hunting. ferrets: sure pop breed. raised and trained by the author of this book. every ferret sold is warranted as represented. depot-- fulton street, new york city. houses cleared --of-- rats with ferrets, --by-- contract. depot-- fulton street, new york city. sure pop phosphoric paste, for the destruction of rats, mice, and roaches, manufactured by "sure pop" isaacsen. =principal depot:= fulton street, new york city. sure pop insect powder for the destruction of roaches, bed bugs, ants, fleas, flies, mosquitoes moths, spiders, scorpions, centipedes, plant and animal lice, croton bugs, etc., etc., etc. _own importation and warranted the best in the world._ =principal depot:= fulton street, new york city. sure pop insect powder killers. this valuable little instrument was patented by me years ago. it is a handly little machine for dusting the insect powder around. it is made of vulcanized rubber, having a metallic top. =principal depot:= fulton street, new york city. sure pop patent insect powder bellows. patented april , . number of patent, , . the advantages of this machine over all others are: . it is easily loaded. . there is no waste of powder. . the powder can not get back into the bellows. . the top can not get worked off. . the bellows are made under my own supervision, and every one is guaranteed. * * * * * transcriber's note: every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as possible, including unusual spelling and inconsistent hyphenation. "skarks' fins" has been changed to "sharks' fins". oh, rats! by miriam allen deford illustrated by wood [transcriber's note: this etext was produced from galaxy magazine december . extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] orthedrin, maxiton and glutamic acid--they were the prescription that made him king of his world! sk , the th son of two very ordinary white laboratory rats, surveyed his world. he was no more able than any other rat to possess articulate speech, or to use his paws as hands. all he had was a brain which, relative to its size, was superior to any rat's that had hitherto appeared on earth. it was enough. in the first week of gestation his embryo had been removed to a more suitable receptacle than the maternal womb, and his brain had been stimulated with orthedrin, maxiton and glutamic acid. it had been continuously irrigated with blood. one hemisphere had been activated far in excess of the other, since previous experiments had shown that increased lack of symmetry between the hemispheres produced superior mentality. the end-result was an enormous increase in brain-cells in both hemispheres. his brain showed also a marked increase in cholinesterase over that of other rats. sk , in other words, was a super-rat. the same processes had been applied to all his brothers and sisters. most of them had died. the few who did not, failed to show the desired results, or showed them in so lopsided and partial a manner that it was necessary to destroy them. all of this, of course had been mere preparation and experimentation with a view to later developments in human subjects. what sk 's gods had not anticipated was that they would produce a creature mentally the superior, not only of his fellow-rats, but also, in some respects, of themselves. he was a super-rat: but he was still a rat. his world of dreams and aspirations was not human, but murine. what would you do if you were a brilliant, moody young super-rat, caged in a laboratory? sk did it. what human beings desired was health, freedom, wealth, love, and power. so did sk . but to him health was taken for granted; freedom was freedom from cages, traps, cats, and dogs; wealth meant shelter from cold and rain and plenty to eat; love meant a constant supply of available females. but power! it was in his longing for power that he most revealingly displayed his status as super-rat. therefore, once he had learned how to open his cage, he was carefully selective of the companions--actually, the followers--whom he would release to join his midnight hegira from the laboratory. only the meekest and most subservient of the males--intelligent but not too intelligent--and the most desirable and amiable of the females were invited. once free of the cages, sk had no difficulty in leading his troop out of the building. the door of the laboratory was locked, but a window was slightly open from the top. rats can climb up or down. like a silver ribbon they flowed along the dark street, sk , looking exactly like all the rest, at their head. only one person in the deserted streets seems to have noticed them, and he did not understand the nature of the phenomenon. * * * * * young mr. and mrs. philip vinson started housekeeping in what had once been a mansion. it was now a rundown eyesore. it had belonged to norah vinson's great-aunt martha, who had left it to her in her will. the estate was in litigation, but the executor had permitted the vinsons to settle down in the house, though they weren't allowed yet to sell it. it had no modern conveniences, and was full of rooms they couldn't use and heavy old-fashioned furniture; but it was solidly built and near the laboratory where he worked as a technician, and they could live rent-free until they could sell the house and use the money to buy a real home. "something funny happened in the lab last night," philip reported, watching norah struggle with dinner on the massive coal-stove. "somebody broke in and stole about half our experimental animals. and they got our pride and joy." "the famous sk ?" norah asked. "the same. actually, it wasn't a break-in. it must have been an inside job. the cages were open but there were no signs of breaking and entering. we're all under suspicion till they find out who-dunit." norah looked alarmed. "you too? what on earth would anybody want with a lot of laboratory rats? they aren't worth anything, are they--financially, i mean?" "not a cent. that's why i'm sure one of the clean-up kids must have done it. probably wanted them for pets. they're all tame, of course, not like wild rats--though they can bite like wild rats if they want to. some of the ones missing are treated, and some are controls. it would just be a nuisance if they hadn't taken sk . now they've got to find him, or do about five years' work over again, without any assurance of as great a success. to say nothing of letting our super-rat loose on the world." "what on earth could even a super-rat do that would matter--to human beings, i mean?" "nobody knows. maybe that's what we're going to find out." * * * * * that night norah woke suddenly with a loud scream. philip got the gas lighted--there was no electricity in the old house--and held her shaking body in his arms. she found her breath at last long enough to sob: "it was a rat! a rat ran right over my face!" "you're dreaming, darling. it's because i told you about the theft at the lab. there couldn't be rats in this place. it's too solidly built, from the basement up." he finally got her to sleep again, but he lay awake for a long time, listening. nothing happened. rats can't talk, but they can communicate. about the time norah vinson dropped off after her frightened wakening, sk was confronting a culprit. the culprit was one of the liberated males. his beady eyes tried to gaze into the implacable ones of sk , but his tail twitched nervously and if he bared his teeth it was more in terror than in fight. they all knew that strict orders had been given not to disturb the humans in the house until sk had all his preparations made. a little more of that silent communication, and the rat who had run over norah's face knew he had only two choices--have his throat slit or get out. he got. "what do you know?" philip said that evening. "one of our rats came back." "by itself?" "yeah. i never heard of such a thing. it was one of the experimental ones, so it was smarter than most, though not such an awful lot. i never heard of a rat with homing instinct before. but when we opened up this morning, there he was, sitting in his cage, ready for breakfast." "speaking of breakfast, i thought i asked you to buy a big box of oatmeal on your way home yesterday. it's about the only thing in the way of cereal i can manage on that old stove." "i did buy it. don't you remember? i left it in the kitchen." "well, it wasn't there this morning. all i know is that you're going to have nothing but toast and coffee tomorrow. we seem to be out of eggs, too. and bacon. and i thought we had half a pound left of that cheese, but that's gone too." "good lord, norah, if you've got that much marketing to do, can't you do it yourself?" "sure, if you leave the car. i'm not going to walk all that way and back." so of course philip did do the shopping the next day. besides, norah had just remembered she had a date at the hairdresser's. * * * * * when he got home her hair was still uncurled and she was in hysterics. one of the many amenities great-aunt martha's house lacked was a telephone; anyway, norah couldn't have been coherent over one. she cast herself, shuddering and crying, into philip's arms, and it was a long time before he got her soothed enough for her to gasp: "philip! they wouldn't let me out!" "they? who? what do you mean?" "the--the rats! the white rats. they made a ring around me at the front door so i couldn't open it. i ran to the back and they beat me there and did the same thing. i even tried the windows but it was no use. and their teeth--they all--i guess i went to pieces. i started throwing things at them and they just dodged. i yelled for help but there's nobody near enough to hear. then i gave up and ran in our bedroom and slammed the door on them, but they left guards outside. i heard them squeaking till you drove up, then i heard them run away." philip stared at her, scared to death. his wife had lost her mind. "now, now, sweetheart," he said soothingly, "let's get this straight. they fired a lab boy today. they found four of our rats in his home. he told some idiotic story of having 'found' them, with the others missing, running loose on the street that night, but of course he stole them. he must have sold the rest of them to other kids; they're working on that now." norah blew her nose and wiped her eyes. she had regained her usual calm. "philip vinson," she said coldly, "are you accusing me of lying, or just of being crazy? i'm neither. i saw and heard those rats. they're here _now_. what's more, i guess i know where that oatmeal went, and the eggs and bacon too, and the cheese. i'm--i'm a hostage! "i don't suppose," she added sarcastically, "that your sk was one of the ones they found in the boy's home?" "no, it wasn't," he acknowledged uneasily. a nasty little icy trickle stole down his spine. "all right, norah, i give in. you take the poker and i'll take the hammer, and we'll search this house from cellar to attic." "you won't find them," said norah bitterly. "sk 's too smart. they'll stay inside the walls and keep quiet." "then we'll find the holes they went through and rout them out." they didn't, of course. there wasn't a sign of a rathole, or of a rat. they got through dinner and the evening somehow. norah put all the food not in cans inside the old-fashioned icebox which took the place of a refrigerator. philip thought he was too disturbed to be able to sleep, but he did, and norah, exhausted, was asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow. his last doubt of his wife's sanity vanished when, the next morning, they found the icebox door open and half the food gone. * * * * * "that settles it!" philip announced. "come on, norah, put your coat on. you're coming with me to the lab and we'll report what's happened. they'll find those creatures if they have to tear the house apart to do it. that boy must have been telling the truth." "you couldn't keep me away," norah responded. "i'll never spend another minute alone in this house while those dreadful things are in it." but of course when they got to the front door, there they were, circling them, their teeth bared. the same with the back door and all the first floor windows. "that's sk all right, leading them," philip whispered through clenched jaws. he could smash them all, he supposed, in time, with what weapons he had. but he worked in the laboratory. he knew their value to science, especially sk 's. rats couldn't talk, he knew, and they couldn't understand human speech. nevertheless, some kind of communication might establish itself. sk 's eyes were too intelligent not to believe that he was getting the gist of talk directed to him. "this is utterly ridiculous," philip grated. "if you won't let us out, how can we keep bringing food into the house for you? we'll all starve, you and we together." he could have sworn sk was considering. but he guessed the implicit answer. let either one of them out, now they knew the rats were there, and men from the laboratory would come quickly and overwhelm and carry off the besiegers. it was a true impasse. "philip," norah reminded him, "if you don't go to work, they know we haven't a phone, and somebody will be here pretty soon to find out if anything's wrong." but that wouldn't help, philip reflected gloomily; they'd let anyone in, and keep him there. and he thought to himself, and was careful not to say it aloud: rats are rats. even if they are th generation laboratory-born. when the other food was gone there would be human meat. he did not want to look at them any more. he took norah's arm and turned away into their bedroom. they stayed there all day, too upset to think of eating, talking and talking to no conclusion. as dusk came on they did not light the gas. exhausted, they lay down on the bed without undressing. after a while there was a quiet scratching at the door. "don't let them in!" norah whispered. her teeth were chattering. "i must, dear," he whispered back. "it isn't 'them,' i'm sure of it--it's just sk himself. i've been expecting him. we've got to reach some kind of understanding." "with a rat?" "with a super-rat. we have no choice." philip was right. sk alone stood there and sidled in as the door closed solidly again behind him. how could one communicate with a rat? philip could think of no way except to pick him up, place him where they were face to face, and talk. "are your--followers outside?" he asked. a rodent's face can have no expression, but philip caught a glance of contempt in the beady eyes. the slaves were doubtless bedded down in their hideaway, with strict orders to stay there and keep quiet. "you know," philip vinson went on, "i could kill you, very easily." the words would mean nothing to sk ; the tone might. he watched the beady eyes; there was nothing in them but intelligent attention, no flicker of fear. "or i could tie you up and take you to the laboratory and let them decide whether to keep you or kill you. we are all much bigger and stronger than you. without your army you can't intimidate us." there was, of course, no answer. but sk did a startling and touching thing. he reached out one front paw, as if in appeal. norah caught her breath in astonishment. * * * * * "he--he just wants to be free," she said in a choked whisper. "you mean you're not afraid of him any more?" "you said yourself he couldn't intimidate us without his army." philip thought a minute. then he said slowly: "i wonder if we had the right to do this to him in the first place. he would have been an ordinary laboratory rat, mindless and contented; we've made him into a neurotic alien in his world." "you're not responsible, darling; you're a technician, not a biochemist." "i share the responsibility. we all do." "so what? the fact remains that it was done, and here he is--and here we are." the doorbell rang. philip and norah exchanged glances. sk watched them. "it's probably kelly, from the lab," philip said, "trying to find out why i wasn't there today. it's just about quitting time, and he lives nearest us." norah astonished him. she picked up sk from the bed-side table where philip had placed him, and hid him under her pillow. "get rid of whoever it is," she said defensively. philip stared for an instant, then walked briskly downstairs. he was back in a few minutes. "it was kelly, all right," he told her. "i said you were sick and i couldn't leave you to phone. i said i'd be there tomorrow. now what?" sk 's white whiskers emerged from under the pillow, and he jumped over to the table again. norah's cheeks were pink. "when it came to the point, i just couldn't," she explained shamefacedly. "i suddenly realized that he's a _person_. i couldn't let him be taken back to prison." "aren't you frightened any more?" "not of him." she faced the super-rat squarely. "look," she said, "if we take care of you, will you get rid of that gang of yours, so we can be free too?" "that's nonsense, norah," philip objected. "he can't possibly understand you." "dogs and cats learn to understand enough, and he's smarter than any dog or cat that ever lived." "but--" the words froze on his lips. sk had jumped to the floor and run to the door. there he stood and looked back at them, his tail twitching. "he wants us to follow him," norah murmured. there was no sign of a hole in the back wall of the disused pantry. but behind it they could hear squeaks and rustlings. sk scratched delicately at almost invisible cracks. a section of the wall, two by four inches, fell out on the floor. "so that's where some of the oatmeal went," norah commented. "made into paste." "sh!" sk vanished through the hole. they waited, listening to incomprehensible sounds. outside it had grown dark. * * * * * then the leader emerged and stood to one side of the long line that pattered through the hole. the two humans stared, fascinated, as the line made straight for the back door and under it. sk stayed where he was. "will they go back to the lab?" norah asked. philip shrugged. "it doesn't matter. some of them may ... i feel like a traitor." "i don't. i feel like one of those people who hid escaped war prisoners in europe." when the rats were all gone, they turned to sk . but without a glance at them he re-entered the hiding-place. in a minute he returned, herding two white rats before him. he stood still, obviously expectant. philip squatted on his heels. he picked up the two refugees and looked them over. "both females," he announced briefly. "and both pregnant." "is he the father?" "who else? he'd see to that." "and will they inherit his--his--" "his 'super-ratism'? that's the whole point. that's the object of the entire experiment. they were going to try it soon." the three white rats had scarcely moved. the two mothers-to-be had apparently fallen asleep. only sk stood quietly eying the humans. when they left him to find a place where they could talk in private he did not follow them. "it comes down to this," philip said at the end of half an hour's fruitless discussion. "we promised him, or as good as. he believed us and trusted us. "but if we keep to our promise we're _really_ traitors--to the human race." "you mean, if the offspring should inherit his brain-power, they might overrun us all?" "not might. would." "so--" "so it's an insoluble problem, on our terms. we have to think of this as a war, and of them as our enemies. what is our word of honor to a rat?" "but to a super-rat--to sk --" as if called, sk appeared. had he been listening? had he understood? neither of them dared to voice the question aloud in his presence. "later," philip murmured. "we must eat," said norah. "let's see what's left in the way of food." * * * * * everything tasted flat; they weren't very hungry after all. there was enough left over to feed the three rats. but they had evidently helped themselves earlier; they left the scraps untasted. neither of the humans guessed what else had vanished from the pantry shelves--what, when he had heard enough, sk had slipped away and sprinkled on the remaining contents of the icebox, wherever the white powder would not show. they did not know until it was too late--until both of them lay writhing in their last spasms on their bedroom floor. by the time the house was broken into and their bodies found, sk and his two wives were far away, and safe.... and this, children, is the true account, handed down by tradition from the days of our great founder, of how the human race ceased to exist and we took over the world. the rat racket by david h. keller, m.d. _with dr. keller's genius for hitting at vital spots every time, he now gives us a brand new idea and an ingenious solution. we hope no racketeers read this story. they might, as a result, cause the police some trouble. fortunately, however, the racket has a flaw._ richard moyer, senior partner of the firm of moyer & perkins, read that letter over twice before he called in the man who had helped him make the importing of high grade groceries from england a most profitable business for over twenty years. he simply handed the letter over to paul perkins without a word of explanation. the latter read it through and handed it back in equal silence, but the hand that held the letter trembled. "just another racket," exclaimed moyer, finally. "looks like it. i suppose we were foolish to start in paying for protection. first our trucks were threatened; then the new building; after that our best customers were bombed, and we had to pay to protect them. your son was kidnapped--and the police! they even went so far as to advise that we keep on paying--and now this letter! we might as well close out the business. all our profits go toward supporting a gang of criminals who have muscled into every type of american industry." [illustration: they were running out through the picture. a crazed man tore it from the wall.] "on the face of it the letter looks innocent enough," sighed perkins, as he picked it up and gave it another reading. "simply says that the rat menace is increasing, cites several business houses where the rodents have done a great deal of damage, and offers to give our warehouses complete protection for five thousand a week. you could show that letter to a hundred police officials and they would laugh at your fears. but i am not laughing. because that letter was written on the same damaged typewriter that the other letters were written on and those gangsters have not failed to make any of their threats good." "suppose we pretend that they are honest, and answer their letter and send them a check for the first week's protection?" "they will laugh at you and send back the check." "they may, at that. then we will give them the cash. in either case, it will give us time to think. i feel that they are only experimenting with us. they are after larger game than five thousand a week. we shall see and hear more of this rat business in a while. write to them and tell them that we will pay the cash, and put the entire matter in the hands of the chamber of commerce. if it does not act soon, the entire city will be in the hands of the gangsters." the complaint of moyer & perkins was only one of a dozen similar ones which reached the chamber of commerce that day. in a secluded room of the manufacturers' club a dozen wealthy men met day after day, hearing and weighing evidence against a hundred forms of racketeering which was rapidly becoming a terrible and powerful enemy to the varied industries of the metropolis. practically every business had been threatened and more than one captain of industry blustered openly, but paid his weekly tribute silently in order to protect his business, family, and home. up to this time the usual weapon had been the strong arm man and the bomb. while these were bad enough, they were at least understood. when it came to rats, it was different. of course, everybody knew something about rats--that they were supposed to be numerous around the river fronts and warehouses--but on the other hand, rats were seldom seen in daylight, and there were many new yorkers who never saw one. not one of the dozen men had been raised on a farm and none had served in the trenches during the world war. they did not understand rats, so, they hesitated, and finally simply advised the merchants who had received the rat letters to use their own judgement. as a result, some paid tribute and some did not. there is no evidence to show that those who paid were one hundred per cent free from rats in their warehouses, but within a week there was ample proof that at least three wholesale groceries and one laundry had been invaded overnight by rats in sufficient quantity to cause thousands of dollars' worth of damages. moyer & perkins heard the news and decided to pay another five thousand. the defense committee of the chamber of commerce was called to an extra meeting at the el dorado hotel. the owner of the hotel was one of the committee, a man who, so far, had taken a very inactive part in its transactions. he did not waste time in giving the reason for the special meeting. "i was called on the telephone this morning," he explained. "the person at the other end wanted to protect my hotel from rats for the small compensation of twenty-five thousand dollars a week. he referred casually to the three warehouses and one laundry that had been wrecked last week. right at the present time i have, on an average, twelve hundred guests a night. they are here to be entertained, not to be frightened by rats. but here is the point. if i yield, every other hotel in the city will be placed in a similar position. three hundred thousand strangers are in the city every day. suppose that ten hotels were overrun with rats in one week and the fact was circulated in the press? what would that cost the city?" "better pay it," growled one of the men. he happened to own a hotel. he knew how temperamental was the pleasure-seeking stranger. singularly, that advice was the only brand given by the rest of the committee. they seemed strangely unable to offer any remedy except to keep on paying and in every way possible bar unpleasant news from the newspapers. inside of next month, fifty-five hotels were paying a weekly tax to the rat racketeers. one small hotel refused, and was at once deluged with an army of rats which drove out guests and employees, killed one old scrub woman and severely injured twenty of the cooks, waiters and porters who received the brunt of the rodent onslaught. moyer & perkins were still paying the five thousand a week when, to their surprise, a visitor dropped into their office and casually suggested that they sell him their business. "it used to be a good business," explained moyer. "it still is," interrupted perkins. "what my partner means is this. we have our share of trade, but the overhead has become so heavy that we have not been able to make any money lately." "that is what i understand," commented the stranger. "in fact, i was sent here by the chamber of commerce. they told me you had been paying money for rat protection. that is about the only reason i want to buy your business. your business is supposed to be worth about two hundred thousand and your real estate as much more. suppose i give you half a million and advise you to keep quiet about the sale?" "you mean carry on the business under the old name?" asked moyer, looking at the prospective buyer earnestly. "something like that." the englishman shook his head. "not and remain in this country! they kidnapped my son. no telling what they will do next, if the policies of the firm are changed. anything that is done we shall be blamed for, no matter who really owns the business." "then, you and your partner take a vacation in europe. you can afford it. all i am asking for is an exact account of your transactions with these racketeers, so i can have something to work on." "may i ask what you want to do with the business?" interrogated the junior partner, perkins. "certainly. i intend to use it as one of my experimental laboratories for the study of a mammal, known as the _mus norvegicus_, called, in common english, the brown rat. he is supposed to have originated from the _mus humiliatus_ of central asia. now will you gentlemen take the half million?" "we will!" exclaimed perkins. "then may i ask your name?" "winifred willowby." "not the one who is reputed to own more united states bonds than any other man in america?" gasped richard moyer. "i won't admit that i do, but i am the man you are thinking about." "then i simply cannot understand why you want to mix up in this rat business." "simple enough. i am a hundred per cent american. for five generations my people have been born and buried in this city. i own over two hundred million dollars worth of land here. when the dregs of europe come over to my city and use the rats of asia to bleed that city white, then i personally protest. i am going to start something. i am not sure what, but when i finish, this city will be practically rat empty and gangster free." "a large programme, mr. willowby," whispered perkins. "but i am a large man. now, suppose i write you gentlemen a check?" five minutes later the two partners were alone. moyer looked at the check, then put it in his pocket, and his hat on his head. "suppose we get it cashed?" he said to perkins. "you can do as you please with your half, but i am going to take my family and go back to england. that man willowby is only half pint size, but his blue eyes look cold to me, and i bet he plays a stiff game of bridge. if he starts fighting those gangsters, i do not want to be caught on the battlefield." "how about starting a business over in england?" asked perkins. "not a bad idea. i came over here and together we made half a million selling english groceries to americans. perhaps we can make a million more selling american groceries to englishmen." winifred willowby not only bought the grocery business of mover & perkins; he bought a laundry, a small hotel, an apartment house and a theatre. he kept all the old employees, put in a manager, instructed that the weekly tribute should be paid as usual, and then disappeared from new york city. ten days later, in paradise valley, in the broken country below the poconos of pennsylvania, he entertained several men, each an authority in his special line of art or science. they kept the appointment, not being at all sure what it was for, but unable to refuse the invitation which was accompanied in each case with a substantial check. they had all heard of willowby, but none had ever seen him. no doubt all were rather disappointed at his apparent lack of color and personality. they quickly changed their mind when he started to talk, for there was a man who, when he had something to say, was able to say it briefly and to the point. "you men are all interested in rats," he began, "and so am i. you have worked with rats in one way or another for a good many years. perhaps i ought to introduce you to each other. mr. william rastell has written the best biological study of rats in the english language. he has done for rats what beebe did for the pheasant. now the gentleman next to mr. rastell is mr. carol crawford. i doubt if he ever actually saw or willingly handled a rat in all his life, but i am told he knows more about the folklore and traditions of the rat than any other living person. the third of my guests is professor wilson. he is the psychologist who has tried to breed different strains of rats, some of superior intelligence and others of the imbecile type. what i want you gentlemen to tell me is why these rats congregate at times in certain buildings of new york city, in such large numbers that they are a serious menace to property and even human life, and, then, as suddenly disappear as they appeared." "are they actually doing that?" asked professor wilson, who had suddenly become vitally interested in the conversation. "suppose they are?" queried carol crawford, answering the question for willowby. "that is nothing more than they have done for centuries." "do you mean migratory movements?" asked the biologist, rastell. "rats have always migrated." "i mean nothing of the kind," protested crawford. "i mean their sudden appearance in a town or a building, their remaining there for a short time and then their sudden disappearance. the folklore and fairy tales are full of that sort of thing." "that is why i asked you to come to this conference, mr. crawford," explained willowby. "there is something peculiar happening in new york at the present time, and it has to do with rats and their actions. in some way rats of new york seem to be under the control of a set of racketeers who are able to force them to enter any building they select. the rats come and go suddenly. it is all over in a little while, but when they are in the building, they do a lot of damage." mr. crawford interrupted him. "i doubt if you use the right word, when you say the rats were forced to enter the building. perhaps you mean that the rats were by some means placed in such a psychic condition that they wanted to enter the building." "that brings the matter into my field of research," insisted professor wilson. "i doubt the fact that they were forced, but if they wanted to, why that brings up all kinds of interesting questions." "that is what i am after, gentlemen. i simply want to present the problem to you and have you solve it. i personally am satisfied with one thing. these rats are no different than the rats of five thousand years ago. they are just like the rats of classic greece and imperial rome. maybe mr. crawford will tell us how they acted." the antiquarian fairly beamed as he started to ride his favorite hobby-horse. "of course, the story everyone thinks of is the one concerning the piper of hamelin. it was in the year . the rats were thick, and the piper agreed to lead them out of the town for a certain sum. he played a pipe, no doubt some kind of flute, and the rats followed him. when the people refused to pay, he returned on the th of june, the feast of saints john and paul, and again played on the pipe. this time the children, one hundred and thirty in number, followed him into a cave and were lost. the date is well documented. a number of historians believe that it actually occurred, and on the gate of the town is the statement. "'_centum ter denos cum magus ab urbe puellos duxerat ante annos cclxxii condita porta fuit._'[ ] "the same story is found, with variations, in all parts of the world. there is, for example, the story of the wicked hatto, abbot of fulda. he was visited by a swarm of rats who killed him. i can give you a dozen variations of that story, but in each of them the rats came and went, suddenly, as mr. willowby says they have been doing in new york." "i should like to see a few examples of this mass movement of rats. i saw a lemming migration in norway, but that was different," explained rastell. "it seems to me that if we actually saw one of these nocturnal attacks, we might learn why they wanted to do it." "he is deadly right," agreed professor wilson. "a few actual facts are worth a hundred theories." "that is why i have asked you to help me," explained the richest man in new york. "i have prepared some experimental stations for your use. i can put you in a grocery warehouse and guarantee that inside of a week you will see more rats than you ever dreamed of. i have a laundry and a small hotel. we can work out the details right now. all i am asking of you is to find out, when the rats come, _why they come_ and, once we know that, we can do something to solve this problem." "the game looks interesting," declared the professor of rat psychology. "what i am interested in is why the rats do it. i am sure that it is because they want to do it, but are they forced to want to do it? it is a problem that will take a lot of research to solve, but rastell and i can solve it. with all respects to our friend, mr. crawford, i think that he had better stay away and just keep on reading about his little pets. a few thousand vicious rats would be hard for him to deal with." "i guess you are right," laughed winifred willowby. "crawford and i will stay here and read about it while you two do the actual scientific work. by the way, crawford, in that story of the piper, what was given the credit for drawing the rats out of the town?" "the tune that he played on the pipes!" "check and double check. now i would advise you gentlemen to locate some musical instrument in that warehouse, and if you find one, experiment with it. of course, you will have to be rather clever to find it. in the first place, the people putting it there will have it under cover and just as soon as the mischief is done they will remove it." "it is nothing like that," laughed professor wilson, almost in scorn. "these are new york rats. it will take more than a little music to lead them from their usual haunts. but rastell and i will start in at once. give us the address of the buildings and the authority to use them. how shall we know when the rats are going to come?" "they will appear within seven days after you stop the racket money. suppose we adjourn the meeting? i want a few words in private with mr. crawford. you other gentlemen can get all the rest of the details from my secretary. he will arrange your salary and expense account. good night." he took mr. crawford into his bedroom. "do you really believe that story, crawford?" "i positively do. and the people believe it. the piper walked down the bungen-strasse and to this day no music is ever played in that street. they even date time in that town from the day the children disappeared." "then, there must be something in it. suppose we go over to europe and find out something about that tune, the tune that drew the rats out of hamelin?" * * * * * rastell and wilson followed out their programme. they went to the grocery warehouse and made a rat survey. there were a few rodents there but not many. then they issued orders that the weekly payment of five thousand dollars be stopped. after that they spent their nights in the warehouse. on the fifth night the rats came by the thousands. they appeared to be hunting for something, but in the meantime, they ate and soiled whatever came their way. the local cats fought heroically, but were soon killed and eaten. the rats came up from the cellar through the elevator shafts, up the steps, through the cracks in the floor, up and up till they started to run around the roof. then, at four in the morning, they started to leave, running down the steps in close formation, seemingly panic-stricken at their own temerity and anxious only to return to their safe, dark haunts. the two scientists, in their wire observation cage, closed their note book, opened the door of the cage, and started to make a careful search of the building. it revealed nothing but the bones of cats and much spoiled food. for the next two days they worked carefully through every part of the building, hunting for something to explain the conduct of the rats. they found nothing. all that they were sure of was the fact that the rats had been there, and that they had not come back. the following week they repeated the experiment in the laundry. the course of events was the same. the payment was refused, then the rats came, devoured and destroyed, stayed a night and left. nothing was found. they decided to go and have a conference with winifred willowby, but he could not be located. the two scientists were left to their own resources. having no other plausible plan of action, they selected the small hotel for their next experiment. this time they set a hundred wire traps and caught several hundred living rats. these they subjected to every known experiment, and at the end were forced to acknowledge that all they had learned left them in ignorance as to why the rats came just for one night in such enormous numbers. two months later their employer sent for them. it appeared that he had just returned from europe. he listened to their story, smiled kindly at their perplexity, suggested that they take a vacation and forget about rats for a while, paid all their bills, and discharged them. he even went so far as to say that he was uninterested in rats, that it had just been a passing hobby and that just at present he was working on other matters. so, he asked them to pass out of his life. but he and carol crawford went into the wilds of pike county and did some experimenting on his own account. meantime, things were going from bad to worse in new york city. the rat racketeers were becoming bolder, and started to reach after larger game. there were rumors that the pennsylvania railroad was paying to protect its terminal and that the interurban was being bled white to keep the rats out of the subway. of course, much of this was rumor and none of it reached the newspapers, but there is no doubt about the fact that eight million people were becoming rat-conscious and rat-afraid. it was growing into a worth-while racket, and those behind it were rapidly acquiring more than riches; they were growing so powerful that they felt able to control the city government. more than one business tried to resist and more than one business awoke to find that it owned nothing but ruins. rat protection was worthless when the enemy came by the hundred thousand and even million. the only worth-while defense against the multitudinous enemy was the payment of the weekly tribute, small enough each week, but in the course of the year taking the profits from most of the firms compelled to pay. within a year the average business in the city was working for the gangsters and content to, at least, be permitted to stay in business. then the racket was transferred to other cities, slowly and on a small scale at first; then more boldly. chicago, philadelphia and washington began to feel the pressure. the profits were divided, but always the main share went to new york. for that was where the big boys were. and ruling the big boys was the old man, who was so little known and so seldom seen that his very existence was questioned by some of the smaller gangsters. no one knew how he had obtained his power, but no one was brave enough to deny it. the fact remained that he simply ruled; reigned like a caesar; dictated like a napoleon. from back-stage he pulled the wires to make his puppets dance. it was this man who aroused the interest of winifred willowby. in other times, in former generations, in far-passed centuries, they might have ruled rome together, or split it in two ways over their dying bodies. but in the short sword had been replaced by the ballot box and civil war by the primary election. neither man had much that the other craved for, yet both prevented the other from the full enjoyment of life. but it was the blue-blooded patrician who at last gave in and secretly asked for an interview. the conference was held on a fallen log on the shore of porter's pond in pike county, pa. someone said that if mark hopkins sat on one end of a log and a student on the other end, it was a university; but, with willowby on one end of the log and the old man on the other, it became nothing more than a conspiracy against the existence and the very life of the nation. it was a strange sight, those two opposites on the log. the rich man, a little over five feet, barely a hundred pounds, with the body of a boy and the face of an angel. at the other end a large man, with the torso of an ape, and the face of a titan, a man who had conquered by crushing, ruthlessly and devastatingly, all who had dared to oppose him. the two were great men, but they were equally lonely. their very positions as leaders of their respective societies prevented any fraternizing with their followers. "i do not want to waste your time, mr. consuelo," began willowby. "we ought to be able to understand each other. you would do nicely if the federal government would leave you alone, but it has the peculiar ability of annoying you and interfering with your plans. am i right?" "absolutely! of course, it does not make any real difference--" "but it does annoy you--investigations of your income tax and deporting your men now and then?" "well, what of it?" "simply this. after some years of effort, i am at last able to say that i control the government." "that is the silly brag of a child," sneered the old man. "not at all," and as he said that, willowby reached down and picked up a handful of pebbles. "see these stones? in the same way i hold in my hand a majority of the supreme court, over two-thirds of the senators and most of the representatives. i can swing the votes of enough of the states to pass any kind of legislation i wish. now here is my proposition. you handle the cities. i will turn over the country to you. together we will run the nation, and all i want is just one thing--just one little favor from you." "i bet i can guess what that is," laughed the old man. "no doubt, but let me tell you. i want to be the next president." "i thought so." "i think we ought to be together on this thing. perhaps i could be elected without your help, even in spite of your opposition. but if i am, i will, naturally, try to destroy you. we might end up like the kilkenny cats. but if we are allies, i have eight years of power and you have eight years of liberty in which to plunder the richest nation in the world. how about it?" the old man drew a deep breath. "is this on the level?" "it has to be. i have a reputation, and it is respectable. i am placing myself in your hands. what is there to prevent you from giving the press an interview tomorrow?" "you would deny it!" "but no one would listen to me." "i suppose not. what do you want me to do?" "i want you to give the order to your leaders. there are a hundred of them, perhaps a few more. no doubt my list is not absolutely accurate. call them in, from chicago, st. louis, new orleans, boston and philadelphia. have them all in one room. you introduce me. let me talk to them. i will open the war chest, fifty million to start with, and more to come. you promise them anything you want, and i will make the promise good." "and you will be there? right in the room with me?" "i will be there." "i won't do it!" growled the old man. "i never have and i never will. i don't do things that way. a whisper to one or two, and the business is done, but not a hundred at one time. some of these boys have never seen me." "then you want to turn me down?" "not exactly, but i am opposed to that meeting." "then we are through talking. i will take you to the five-ten train, or, if you want to, i will have my chauffeur drive you to the city." "let's talk it over." "no." "how about having six of the big boys there?" "no! all on my list or none." "your list?" "certainly! i am not sure that it is absolutely correct, but it satisfies me." "let me see it." "no reason why you should not." the old man took the paper that was handed to him. it was no casual glance, he gave the names. at last he handed it back to the little man with the casual comment: "i suppose that is not all you know about my organization?" "i suppose not. why not be sensible about this, mr. consuelo? if we fight, we will simply kill each other, but if we become allies who can stop us? but i must be sure of you, and the only way i can be sure is to have you talk to your men, and then let me talk to them. we can have the meeting at night in my offices, you know where, top floor of the empire trust. no one need be any the wiser. half an hour, and all the men can go back with the money in their pockets and the orders in their brains." "o.k. when shall we meet?" "a month from today at ten p.m." "good. i'll give the orders, but i want the money, the fifty million. it is not much, but part of it will help keep the big boys in line. some of them won't like the idea very much." "a little cash will influence them. now, how about taking you back to the city?" * * * * * winifred willowby made preparations for entertaining his one hundred guests. his largest office was transformed into an assembly room. its inch-thick carpets, overstuffed chairs and mahogany trimmings gave it an air of luxuriant comfort. there were special chairs for the big boys and two very special chairs for the old man and the host of the evening. a large picture frame, hanging on one wall, and carefully covered, gave a hint as to part of the evening's ceremony. the empire trust belonged to willowby. he had built it so that he could have a private office on the top floor, the sixty-third from the ground. the elevator reached this floor, but there were no steps. many buildings surpassed it in height, but none in the view that it gave of the city. the guests who arrived first commented on the view and expanded their chests when they realized that they carried that city in their vest pockets. at last every chair was occupied. it was a peculiar gathering. it included judges, politicians, pseudo-business men, several lawyers and even the mayor of one of the largest cities in the mississippi valley. facing them, sat the old man and willowby. of the hundred men in the audience not one was at his ease. most had come because they were afraid to stay away. many hoped that they would not be recognized. the majority doubted the wisdom of such a meeting and felt that the old man was slipping mentally. it was the first time that many of them had even seen him. he was almost as much of an unknown to them as the little man sitting next to him. a peculiar silence hung over the assembly. more than one man fondled the handle of his automatic. no one seemed to be sure of what was going to happen next. it was a fortunate thing that the meeting was held at night; with the audience composed of such men. a daylight gathering would have been impossible. the old man and willowby held a short whispered conference, and then the leader of american racketeers stood up. what had been silence before, now became the hush of death. the old man was going to talk, and everyone wanted to hear what he had to say. it did not take him long to start. "you big boys have been running the cities before," he growled, "but from tonight on we are going to run the country. congress and the supreme court are going to dance to our music and like it. our new friend here has promised to deliver the goods, and he does not want much in return. i have told him that we will trade, and what i say goes. now, you boys listen to willowby, and remember that i am back of him." then he sat down. as far as the records are concerned, that was the longest speech the old man made in his life. the boys hardly knew what to do; they felt they should applaud, but not being certain remained quiet. then willowby stood up. "i do not want very much, gentlemen," he remarked. "i only want to be the next president of the united states, and i can be, with your help. let me show you a picture." he walked over to the covered picture, pulled a cord and unveiled it and there, life size, were the old man and willowby shaking hands. anyone could tell who they were and what they were doing. that brought the house down. everybody felt that it was time for a little noise. some of them, who knew the big boy well enough, went up and congratulated him on the new political alliance. in the confusion, winifred willowby slipped out of the room and no one noticed his absence. but some one did notice the sideboard and started to sample the bottles. soon everyone was drinking a little. but the old man did not drink. he just sat there, moodily chewing his cigar and wondering how much of the fifty million he could keep for his share. nobody saw the first rat. it dropped from behind the picture and ran under a chair. the next rat did the same. perhaps fifty rats were in the room before their presence was noticed. by that time they were coming faster, by the dozen, by the hundred. that was different. one rat in a large room meant nothing. a hundred, five hundred in the same room could mean almost anything. and now they were literally pouring out from back of the picture. a cursing man pulled it to the floor and there was a large hole in the wall, two feet in diameter, and out of that hole the rats were pouring, big brown, hungry rats, dropping to the floor and starting to hunt for food. the puzzled men jumped up on top the chairs; the rats stood on their hind legs and looked at the large chunks of food with black beady, binoculars. the old man just sat there, chewing his cigar and cursing. he knew what it all meant seconds before anyone else. a number of the most fearful men made a dash for the elevator. they were driven back by a torrent of rats climbing up the elevator shaft. then _fear came--and panic_. with gun and heel, and broken chairs for clubs, they started in to kill rats, and for every one they killed, a hundred fastened to them with chisel teeth. to make it worse, the lights went out, and they were there in the dark, with mutilation as a beginning and death as an ending, and still the rats poured into the room, up the elevator shaft and out of the hole in the wall. * * * * * the old man walked across the room, kicking the struggling bodies of his followers out of his pathway. rats ran up his legs and tried to bite his hands, his face; he swept them off him as a tiger would wipe ants off his fur; at last he came to the window. there was the city of new york in front of him, the city of a million twinkling lights, the tomb of a billion dead hopes; the morgue of a nation, covered by laughing, painted faces. he raised the sash and sat on the sill. "damn willowby!" he said. "what a fool i was. but i am going to die clean. no rat is going to send me to hell!" and then he dropped. in the room the struggle kept on--for an hour and then two. at last the screaming ceased, and the only sound was the gnawing of the rats, the crunching of their teeth and their satisfied, little squeaks of pleasure. the next morning winifred willowby called on the chief of the secret service of new york. with him were several men from washington. "i want to tell you something," he said. "a large group of men borrowed my office to have a meeting last night. they wanted privacy and secrecy and they had heard of my place in the empire trust building. so i loaned them the entire floor for the night. but my janitors tell me that something terrible happened. an army of rats invaded the place, as they have been doing with other places in the city, and literally ate every man there; that is, all except one, a fellow by the name of consuelo, and he preferred to jump out of a window and die clean on the pavement." "consuelo?" asked the chief. "not the old man? not _that_ consuelo?" "i think that is the one. here is a list of the men who were there. i thought you might like to look it over before you gave it to the papers." the chief took the list and read it, puzzled. "do you mean these men were there last night?" "i understand so." "and now they are dead?" "i think so. of course, that is for the coroner to say." "do you know who these men were?" "i suppose they were business associates of consuelo. at least, that is what he told me." "they were the hundred biggest gangsters in america. they were the brains of everything vicious in american society. there is not a man there whom we have not been after for years, but we just couldn't pin anything on them. their death in one night gives the decent people in our country a new lease on life. we can go ahead now and get the little fellows. but, tell me, mr. willowby, how did it happen?" "i told you. they had a meeting and the rats came. you know there was a rat racket which no one thoroughly understood. anyway, the rats came--and killed them. no one can tell exactly what did happen, because everyone who was there was killed. that is all. i am sorry that it happened in my office--but i thought i was doing the man a favor to loan him the place for the meeting." * * * * * that night crawford and willowby were talking things over. in rushed rastell and wilson, brushing the indignant butler aside. "we have heard a thousand rumors," began rastell, "and read as many foolish statements in the papers about the rat tragedy, and we just couldn't wait a minute longer. you just have to tell us what happened. we are not going to leave you till you do." "you tell them, crawford," whispered willowby. "whenever i talk about it, my voice becomes squeaky." "it happened this way," explained crawford. "after you started to work, mr. willowby decided to go over and study the story of the piper right in the town of hamelin. we went there and there was no doubt that the town people really believed that it really happened. they told us all about it, and the more we listened and paid them, the more they told. they gave us the very tune the piper played to make the rats follow him. it was a simple little thing, and we made some phonograph records of it. it seems that when the rats hear that tune, they want to get as close as they can to the source of the music. then one old man--he gave us some additional bars which he claimed drove the rats frantic for blood, and we made a record of that also. "afterwards we came back to america and went up into pike county. not so many rats there but enough to experiment with. we tried the short tune and the long tune and they worked on the american rats just like they did on the hamelin ones. we put two and two together and decided that the rat racketeers in new york were using this method of attracting rats. just put a repeating phonograph in a building and start it playing, and then the rats would come and eat everything to pieces. of course, we did not know the psychology of it, but i suppose it has something to do with the effect of musical vibrations on the rat's nervous system. "then mr. willowby thought that it would be a good idea to make a great rat trap and attract all the rats in the city to it. he had a good deal of work done in the empire trust, and rigged up a phonograph with a lot of loud speakers in different parts of the basement. he ran a lot of ropes down a ventilating shaft for the rats to climb on. i think it was his original idea to have them come up to his office by the millions and then use some kind of gas on them. at least, he wanted to get rid of the rats. someone must have turned on the phonograph with the entire record. mr. willowby left the room, went down the elevator and being somewhat absent-minded, told the elevator boy that he could go for the night. of course, he was surprised to hear all about it the next morning. all he wanted to do was to get rid of the rats." "exactly!" purred mr. winifred willowby. and he lit another cigarette. the end footnotes: [ ] when the magician (the piper) had led the one hundred and thirty children out of the city, two hundred and seventy-two years before the gate was built. transcriber's note: this etext was produced from _amazing stories_ april and was first published in _amazing stories_ november . extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed. minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note. full revelations of a professional rat-catcher, after years' experience by ike matthews. [title page image: title.jpg] introduction. in placing before my readers in the following pages the results of my twenty-five years' experience of rat-catching, ferreting, etc., i may say that i have always done my best to accomplish every task that i have undertaken, and i have in consequence received excellent testimonials from many corporations, railway companies, and merchants. i have not only made it my study to discover the different and the best methods of catching rats, but i have also taken great interest in watching their ways and habits, and i come to the conclusion that there is no sure way of completely exterminating the rodents, especially in large towns. if i have in this work referred more particularly to rat-catching in manchester that is only because my experience, although extending over a much wider area, has been chiefly in that city, but the methods i describe are equally applicable to all large towns. yours truly, ike matthews. professional rat-catcher, pendleton, manchester. part i. how to clear rats from warehouses, offices, storerooms, etc. in the first place my advice is--never poison rats in any enclosed buildings whatever. why? simply because the rats that you poison are drain rats, or what you call black rats, and you can depend upon it that the rats that you poison will not get back into the drains, but die under the floor between the laths and plaster, and the consequence is that in a few days the stench that will arise will be most obnoxious. and there is nothing more injurious than the smell of a decomposed rat. having had a long experience in manchester i am quite sure of this. as an instance, i remember a private house where i was engaged catching rats under a floor with ferrets. i went as far as possible on my belly under the floor with two candles in my hands, and i saw the ferret kill a large bitch rat, about six yards from me against a wall, where neither the dog nor myself could get at it. i finished the job and made out my bill for my services, but in about two or three weeks after they again sent for me, declaring they could not stay in the sitting-room on account of the smell that arose from beneath the flooring boards. they had in consequence to send for a joiner; and as i knew the exact spot where the rat was killed i ordered him to take up the floor boards just where the dead rat lay, and the stench that arose from the decomposed rodent was bad in the extreme. i disinfected the place, and i was never sent for again. this was under a cold floor, and it is much worse where there is any heat. now to deal with the different methods of catching rats. the best way, in my opinion, is, trapping them with steel spring traps. whenever you are trapping, never on any consideration put bait on the traps; always put traps in their runs, but you will find rats are so cunning that in time, after a few have been caught, they will jump over the traps, and then you must try another way. a good one is the following, viz.:--get a bag of fine, clean sawdust, and mix with it about one-sixth its weight of oatmeal. obtain the sawdust fresh from under the saw, without bits of stick in, as these would be liable to get into the teeth of the trap and stop them from closing. where you see the runs put a handful in say about different places, every night, just dropping the sawdust and meal out of your hands in little heaps. that means different heaps. do this for four nights, and you will see each morning that the sawdust is all spread about. now for four more nights you must bury a set trap under every heap of sawdust. thus you will have traps, on each of which there is a square centre plate; you must level the sawdust over the plate with a bit of stick, and set each trap as fine as you can on the catch spring, so that the weight of a mouse would set it off. they will play in the sawdust as usual, and you will have rats in almost every trap. you will find that this plan will capture a great many of the rodents. i have trapped as many as in one night in this way. in time, however, the rats will cease to go near sawdust. then you must procure a bag of fine soot from any chimney sweep, and you will find that they will go at the soot just as keen as they did in the first instance at the sawdust. when they get tired of soot (which they will in time) you must procure some soft tissue paper and cut it fine, and use that in the same way as the sawdust and the soot. you can also use light chaff or hay seeds with the like result. i must not omit to tell my readers to always trap rats in the night, and to go very quietly about it, for if you make much noise they will give over feeding. you must not go about with too big a light whilst trapping. you should stay at the building from dark until midnight, and every time a rat is caught in the trap you should go with a bull's eye lamp, take it out of the trap or kill it, and then set the trap again, as you have the chance of another rat in the same trap. from experience i can say that you need not stay in any place after o'clock at night, as i think that the first feed is the best, and that the first three hours are worth all the other part of the night. you can go home at o'clock, and be sure to be in the place by or a.m., for many a rat caught in the trap by the front leg will, if it gets time, eat off its leg and get away again, and they are very cunning to catch afterwards. never have your traps set in the daytime. handle them as little as possible. always catch as many rats as you can in your buildings in january and february, as they begin to breed in march, and every bitch rat means, on the average, eight more. also get as much ferreting done as possible before breeding time, for a young rat can get into the ends of the joisting under a floor, where a ferret cannot get near it, and the consequence is that a ferret is unable to cope with its task. the best thing i can advise for clearing young rats is a good cat, one that must not be handled nor made a pet of, but allowed to live in almost a wild state. a good cat can do as much, in my opinion, in one night, when rats are breeding, as two ferrets can do in a day, especially in a building where there are cavity walls, as it is impossible for a ferret to follow a rat in such walls. this is all the information i am able to give on the trapping of rats--a method i have proved by years' experience to excel all others. still another way of clearing the pests is as follows:--the majority of rats are black, or what we call drain rats; if they are in a building they will in most cases come from a water-closet. sometimes you will see from the drain pipes in the water-closet, say, a six-inch pipe fitted into a nine-inch pipe, and the joint covered round with clay, through which the rats eat and scratch and get into the building in great numbers in the night, but most of them return into the drains during the day. now, if it is the breeding season (about eight months out of the twelve) they will do much damage to silk, cotton, leather, lace, and, in fact, all other light goods. and one would be surprised to see the quantity of cloth, paper, etc., they will procure for their nests whilst breeding. the way to get clear of these is to go in the day with two or three ferrets and leave the drain pipe open. ferret them all back into the drain; don't put a net over the drain for fear you might miss one or two. if they got back into the building they would be hard to catch, as they would not face the net again. then, after ferreting, make the drain good, and if there be an odd rat or two left in the building you will get them in a few nights by baiting the trap. there is another way of catching the brown rat which breeds under the floor in large buildings where there are no drains. they are very awkward to catch. always have a trap or two set, but do not set them where they feed; place them in their runs. but there are other methods for other rat-infested places. for instance, take a restaurant, where they feed in the cooking kitchen; we will suppose they have eaten four holes through either floor or skirting boards. the best way to catch these--however many holes they have leading into the kitchen--is to block up (with tin or similar material) all the holes with the exception of one, and let them use that one for two nights. then put a plateful of good food, such as oatmeal and oil of aniseed, as far from the hole as you can in the same kitchen; then run a small train of meal and aniseed from the hole to the plate. next drive two six-inch nails in the wall, with a long piece of string tied to the nail heads. put on these nails a brick or piece of board right above the hole inches up the wall. be sure the nails are quite loose in the wall over the hole, and leave in that position for two nights, so that the rats will get used to it. on the night that you are going to catch them, before leaving the place carry the string from the nail heads to the door or window; let the door or window be closed within an inch, with the end of the string outside. after the place has been quiet for thirty minutes return to the door or window very quietly, and you will hear the rats feeding. pull the string, the loose nails come out of the wall and the brick or board drops over the hole. you can then go in, close the door, turn up the gas and catch or kill them at your leisure, as they cannot get back again. by this method i may mention that i have caught a great number of rats, and it is quite possible to clear a place in this manner: that is, if they do not come out of the drains. i have caught upwards of in six nights in this way. the best time to catch rats in any building is always at night, and always about half-an-hour after the place has been closed, as rats are generally more adventurous to come for their first feed. always go about as quietly as possible. in some of the very old manchester buildings that were built in the days before drain plans had to be submitted to the corporation, one finds under the cellar floors old-fashioned brick and flag drains (better known as "spit" drains), that were left in when the place was built. once the rats get in these disused drains all the professional rat-catchers in england could not clear them without pulling the building down. the rats have, by some means, got out of the main sewer, probably by the bursting of a sewer into one of these disused dry brick drains. it is then impossible to get underground to see where they have got into the dry drain, and the only thing that can be done in a case of this sort is to engage a professional rat-catcher occasionally, and keep two or three good cats to keep the rats down. these places as a rule are more plagued with them when it is very wet weather and there are floods running. this is the best time to catch them, as they are all under the floor of the building, and are very easy to catch in the night with the traps. as a rule the black or drain rats feed only in the night, very rarely in the day, as they are of a dirty nature, and prefer being in the drains. in my opinion the black rat is more vicious than the brown. there is another rat i call the red rat, which is akin to the brown rat. you will always catch these at a tannery, or about kennels, where hounds are kept, and they generally feed on horseflesh or offal. red rats are the "gameist" rats i know, for whatever kind of rats are put into the store cage, these red rats kill them the first night they are left quiet. i may describe another mode of catching rats. in any rat-overrun warehouse, storeroom, or cellar, where there is a deal of rubbish such as packing cases, wrappers, waste paper, etc., throw a lot of food, say oatmeal or soaked bread, carelessly amongst the cases or rubbish and let the rats have a full week's feeding at their leisure, and then if you know the holes round the floor wherefrom they come, go in some night as quick as possible, turn up the lights, run to the three or four holes, and block them up with pieces of rag, etc. now as all the rats will not run out of the packing cases or waste paper, but will hide amongst the same, this is the time to take a good terrier dog or two with you, and to have a bit of sport. let one dog hunt among the cases, etc., and hold the other, for the rats will soon make for the holes, but the rags preventing their escape you will catch and kill a great many by this means. it should be stated here that as rats are very cunning, it takes a lot of study, dodging, and experience to be able to rid them entirely. when you are feeding rats anywhere, never feed them with other than soft stuff, which you can squeeze through your fingers, for if you feed them with anything lumpy, they will carry pieces into their holes and eat at their leisure. ferreting. ferreting is a very good plan for destroying rats in cottage houses, stables, hotels, etc., as it can be done in the day, but in buildings, say five or six storeys high you cannot ferret very well as you cannot tell where to set your nets. the only way to ferret a large building is to ferret one floor at once, and always start at the top storey first. the majority of floors are laths and plaster. this is what the rat likes, especially the brown rat, and there are more nests found in these places than anywhere else. to ferret thoroughly in such places you will require to have a board up at each end of the floor: the two end boards that run crossways with the joist; then you must have a man to put the ferret in at one end, and ferret one joist at a time; have a net set at the other end. the best way at the catching end is to have a long sheet net about a yard wide, and the full length of the boards that are up, for sometimes under the boards the rats can get out of one joist into another, and if you use the long net you can catch them whichever joist they bolt at. now we will suppose you are ferreting a seven-storey building, which might occupy three or four days. if you have ferreted two stories the first day, during the night the rats that have not been ferreted on the lower stories may get back again to the top storey. how to prevent this happening i will give you a plan of my own, which i don't think any rat-catcher but myself has ever employed. the course of action--a rather expensive one i admit--is the following: while you have the boards up you must go to the druggist and get two shillings' worth of cayenne pepper, and put it into a pepper duster. scatter the cayenne along the boards and joist where you have had the long sheet net, and also along the other end of the joist where you put the ferrets in, and you will find that under no consideration will rats face the cayenne pepper. cayenne is alright for any dry place and will last a long time, but it will not do in any water closets or any damp places, as dampness takes all the nature out of the cayenne. after ferreting in any kind of building, always go carefully round the outside, and see that there are no broken air grids, or broken cellar windows, as these are likely ways that the rats get into the building at first. when ferreting always be careful how you set your nets, and be extremely quick on the rats when they bolt, for sometimes if they get back they will face the ferret before they will bolt again; then the ferrets kill them under the floors, and this as in the case of poisoning them is liable to cause an abominable smell, more especially where heat is near. in the whole of my experience of rat-catching, which is a lengthy one, i never gave a guarantee to clear a place completely, in manchester or any other town where so many large buildings are so close together. and let me show the reason for this. take cannon street, manchester, as an illustration. here are six or eight different firms in one block of buildings. now, suppose four of these firms are suffering from the damage the rats are doing. well, one or two of these firms may go to the expense of having the rats cleared away. but between the two buildings there may be a hardware business or ironmonger's shop, where rats cannot do any harm to their goods. the owners of these shops will not go to the expense of having rats caught, nor will they let us go into their shops at midnight; therefore the result is the rat-catcher in his trapping and ferreting is limited to these two places, and all he can do is to catch some and drive the rest into the hardware shop. when under the floors in such places one finds there has been so many alterations made at different times that one joist may be a foot or six inches below the other, and when the rats are completely driven out of these places it would require joiners and bricksetters to work for weeks under the floors to stop the rats returning. and most firms will not go to this expense. i only give my readers this as an illustration of what has often happened with me, and to show why i never guarantee to clear rats completely in large towns. if they are in a private house, stable, greenhouse, or any block of houses, of say five or six, i might then, after looking through, give a guarantee to clear them completely. these are the fullest details i can give you, and if you will put any of the ways i have mentioned into practice you will find that they are all successful, especially the covering of traps. i can give you just one more instance in manchester, where i was engaged. the workpeople had been tormenting the rats with traps, not knowing how to set them. they sent for me, and on my looking round the place i knew there was a lot of rats. i submitted my price to do the job, and when i went down one night with traps, dog, and two ferrets i thought i should catch or rats, but i found that they had plagued them so much with their attempted trapping that i only caught three in the whole night. this place belonged to a limited company, and when i went before the committee the next morning they were not satisfied. i told them that their own workpeople had tormented the rats so much with traps that the rats would not go near one. i then told the committee that i would still stick to my terms, but i would leave the job over for a fortnight. now during that fortnight i went down a good many times, and laid the sawdust as i have already described, and thus got the rats used to it. the first night that i went catching i took with me traps. i had them all set by - p.m., and by - a.m. i had trapped rats; the next night rats; and before i completed the job, with the trapping and the other ways that i have mentioned, i caught rats! this i give merely as an illustration to show the necessity of engaging an experienced man to catch rats--that is, if you want them caught. and to confirm the statements above, i shall be most happy to supply privately the name and place of the firm, and also to give a personal interview if necessary. and now a word or two respecting the different ways in which rat-catchers are treated. many people think that a rat-catcher is favoured if they give him permission to catch rats on their farms or round the banks of their corn or wheat fields. well, on some occasions i grant this may be a favour, for i have seen when i have had an order in hand for about dozen rats, and have had only a day or two in which to get them. such are the only times and circumstances when a rat-catcher gives his services gratis, and simply because he wants the live rats. most farmers will send you word when they are threshing their corn, and then the value of the rats are worth the day's work to the rat-catcher. this is all right as far as it goes, but when one comes to consider the yearly expenses of the rat-catcher it will be found that they are very heavy. now, first of all it will cost, at the least, pounds annually for the wear and tear of traps alone, then there is the wear and tear of nets; two dog licences; always three or four ferrets to keep (and ferrets are often lost down drains or killed by rats); also sundry other expenses, such as store cages, etc. then, again, the rat-catcher always has to pay a man to help him. i don't call rat-catching a trade only: i maintain that it is a profession, and one that requires much learning and courage. i have found this out when i have been under a warehouse floor, where a lot of rats were in the traps, and i could not get one man out of to come under the floor and hold the candle for me, not to mention helping me to take the live rats out of the traps. i just relate this because at some places where we go and where we catch perhaps rats, the first thing they say when the bill is presented is "why, you have got s. worth of live rats!" they don't think of the damage rats can do to fancy goods, nor do they consider the evil smells that men have to tolerate under the floors or from the bad drains. i could relate many interesting anecdotes of what i have seen and heard about rats, but i fear its perusal might take up too much of my readers' time. there is, however, one thing i will mention. i dare say you have heard of rats running about in "swarms" in the night. do not believe it. in my whole experience i have never been so fortunate as to meet a "swarm" of these, when i have had an empty cage on my back, and an order for dozen live rats at s. per dozen. when trapping at farms on a moonlight night i have seen a train of rats almost in single file going from a barn to a pit or brook to drink, and then i have simply run a long net all along the barn very quickly, sent my dog round the pit and caught all the rats in the net when they ran back to get in the barn. for in these places you must be as cunning as the rats to catch them. the quickest way for a farmer to get rid of rats is to run a long trail of good oatmeal outside his barn doors, and shoot them on a moonlight night. i have seen killed at a shot in this way. they will stay eating the oatmeal because they cannot carry it away. at farms or out-houses you might poison rats round a pit or along brook sides where they go to drink, although i don't believe in poisoning, as one never knows where it ends--the rats being likely to carry the poisoned food about, and then dogs, hens, pigs, pigeons, etc., may pick it up. there may be a few more ways of catching rats than i have enumerated, but i think i have given the best ways in detail. some people think that to use the mongoose is very good, but i think that the mongoose is no better than a good fox terrier dog or a good cat, the only advantage in the mongoose being that all the rats it kills it will bring back dead to its habitation, and that stops the dead rats from smelling under the floors. i think that the mongoose is not half so sly or sharp as a good cat, and a mongoose, moreover, has to be taught how to kill a rat (just the same as a dog). i am fortunate in having actually seen a mongoose and a rat put alive in a tub together, and the mongoose would not even look at the rat. and i maintain that the mongoose cannot compare with the ferret anytime, for the simple reason that a small ferret can get anywhere that a rat can, whilst the mongoose must wait until the rat comes out to feed. for instance, if a board of a floor be left up for a mongoose to get under the floor, it can only get into one of the joists; but a ferret can follow a rat wherever it goes. then again, the rats can smell a mongoose even more strongly than they can smell a cat. so these facts prevent my recommending a mongoose on any account. i have also heard of people experimenting with different sorts of drugs and chemicals for enticing rats out of their holes. i hope none of my readers will be attracted with this device. i hold that there is nothing that will tempt a rat from its hole like hunger. the nearest approach that i have found to entice the rodent out of its hole is oil of aniseed or oil of rhodium, but the latter is expensive. i can rely best on oil of aniseed, because i have often successfully tried it in experiment upon the plate of a set trap. i have placed only three or four drops of oil of aniseed upon the plate of a set trap without bait, and often the trap has closed and trapped the rat by the nose; so that it will be seen that the rat must have been licking the plate, or it could not be caught in that manner. i have also frequently noticed when i have set, say, traps covered with meal and sawdust mixed, that if i have put only two drops of oil of aniseed on half the traps i should find next morning on looking at the traps that most rats are in those in which i had placed the aniseed. i think that oil of rhodium and oil of aniseed are very good to drop on the traps after setting, or to mix with the stuff with which the traps are covered. there is also another way of bolting rats. sometimes when the ferret is put under a boarded floor, all the rats will run together and pack themselves in a heap at the end of a joist. when the rats pack themselves on each other thus, the ferret on reaching them will tackle only one at a time. you can always tell when this happens by the ferret working a long time and bolting no rats. now, immediately you notice this, put your mouth near the hole where you have put the ferrets in, and make a squealing noise with your mouth to imitate a squealing rat. this causes the heap of rats at the end of the joist to disperse through fear, and when they get running about they will bolt into the net. many times i have not had a bolt for half-an-hour and when i have squealed at the hole i have had four or five rats in the nets at once. these are some of the methods of clearing rats from various places, and from experience i think they excel all others. part ii. how to keep and work ferrets. the first necessity in ferret-keeping is that they shall be kept in hutches or "cotes," as they are commonly called. care must always be taken to have their places well swilled with carbolic water, and then allowed to thoroughly dry before whitewashing the inside, which is also essential to keep them healthy. this should be done at least four times a year. always have your hutches leaning from the wall, so that wet or refuse will not lodge, for when the bottom of a hutch is always wet it is liable to give the ferrets a disease called foot rot, which is very frequent where ferrets are neglected. always keep the feeding part of the hutch well covered with sawdust. in feeding ferrets for the purpose of rat-catching, never do so before going out with them; i think it is quite sufficient to feed them every hours. if you feed them oftener they are liable to get too fat, and also lazy and unwilling to work as they should. the best food you can give them is bread and milk, and occasionally a little raw liver. mix the bread and milk with a little hot water, stir well with a spoon or squeeze through your fingers, so that the ferrets will have to eat it where you feed them; if not they will carry the large pieces of bread that are wet into the corners of the sleeping place, which would soon cause that part of the hutch to smell very sour and become injurious to the health of the ferret, especially where four or five are kept together, as they are of a very perspiring nature. always give them plenty of room to run about when you can; if you don't they are likely to take cramp. ferrets are usually subject to distemper. the first symptom is the ferret's neglect of its food. when you see this you will observe a little matter at the corner of the eyes, and the ferret will have a slight running at the nostrils. immediately you see these symptoms separate that ferret from the others, as this is, i think, the worst disease one has to contend with. in the whole of my ferret-keeping experience i have found distemper, if caught in time, can be cured; but if it gets too far i know of no cure for it. i have known a gamekeeper to have dogs with the distemper, and he has not touched his ferrets or handled them at all during the time his dogs were bad, yet a week afterwards his ferrets caught the disease. he tried all the remedies he knew of, but in days hitherto good, strong, healthy ferrets died: all he had. this will show at once that the disease is very contagious. the moment you see signs of distemper coming on feed the ferret as little as possible. give it as little to eat as will just keep life in it, for in feeding the ferret you also feed the disease. when you have kept the food from it is the time to start curing if possible. now, from experience the first thing i recommend is to sweat the disease out of it, and i find the best way to do this is as follows:--get an old bucket with a few one-inch holes bored in the bottom, and almost fill it with good new straw horse-droppings; put a little hay on the top of the droppings, and then put the ferret on the hay. place or hang the bucket over a boiler or on the mantelpiece, and let the kettle steam under the bucket, say for minutes, and you will find the steam and the ammonia from the droppings will together sweat the disease out of the ferret; then you can start feeding it again. feed it with something substantial, such as the jelly from stewed cowheels; give them the jelly only, not the meat; and you will have a good result. also give them a teaspoonful of cream. this is the one and only cure for distemper. another disease in ferrets, especially young ones, is what i call "red mange." this starts always under the belly, and you will find that the skin becomes very red and speckled. this is easily remedied by the simple process of washing in lukewarm water and rubbing with sweet oil and black sulphur. the same mixture will answer for "foot rot" if rubbed well into the paws. the general cause of this latter disease is neglect of the ferrets and the hutches not being cleaned out regularly. i think the best bedding for ferrets is good oat straw, fresh every fortnight. throw the straw in carelessly, and the ferrets will make their own beds. when breeding ferrets, never go near them more than you can help, as they are of a wild nature and liable to destroy their young. when you know a jill or bitch ferret has young, give her a little extra good food, but don't interfere with the young ones on any account, and if you want to give her a little extra bedding put the straw in the same place as the food, and she will take it into the sleeping place herself. it is advisable not to touch the young ones for five weeks, or better still leave them until they come out to feed themselves; and when running about, if there be a good number, say nine or ten, in the lot, it is a good plan to remove them into a larger place for sleeping, as young ferrets are very liable to catch the red mange, which arises from too many being together and sweating very much. when working ferrets for rat-catching always work them unmuzzled. make as little noise as possible, as rats are very bad to bolt sometimes. never grab at the ferret as it leaves the hole, nor tempt it out of the hole with a dead rat. the best way is to let the ferret come out of its own choice, and then pick it up very quietly, for if you grab at it, it is likely to become what we call a "stopper;" and never on any account force a ferret to go into a hole. when working ferrets for rabbit-shooting always muzzle them. the old-fashioned style of muzzle is, i think, the best, that is, made with string. i don't approve of wire muzzles, as they are liable to catch against tree roots and bits of sharp stones, and from experience i find the ferret works much better with the string muzzle. there is one way of working ferrets when rabbit-shooting which, if followed, i think would lead to a better day's shooting. you will often see the ferrets stick up with the rabbits. now, in most cases the gamekeeper or his man working the ferrets will often cut open a dead rabbit and put the paunch to the burrow. i quite agree as to the desirability of this to get the ferrets out, but i say that the man using the ferrets ought never to touch the paunch, as the ferrets will not work half so well after he has the smell of the paunch on his hands. another bad plan is that of throwing a dead rabbit into the burrow so that the ferret will follow it out. the best plan is to let the ferret get clear of the hole, and then pick it up quietly. if you will break your ferrets in in this manner you will never have any trouble with them afterwards. when ferrets are conveyed about for the purpose of rabbiting, boxes are much better to use than bags, as the ferrets then get a better chance of resting. if bags be used you disturb the ferrets' rest and position each time you remove one. take care to observe this and it will result in a good day's sport. always take your ferrets home as quickly as possible after a day's work. ferrets kept only for rabbit-shooting should always be fed as soon as the day's work is over, but they must not have more food till the same time the following day. if fed in this way regularly you will find that they will work very well. it is also advisable to let them drink at a stream when they have worked about three hours. when ferrets have been fast in a rabbit burrow, their paws may be full of down with scratching at the rabbits. always remove this before placing them to another burrow. each time you handle the ferret see that the muzzle is alright, and in muzzling with string great care should be taken to remove the long hair on the snout from under the string; otherwise the ferret may experience a tickling sensation, and not work so well as it should; see also that the string is tied tightly around the ferret's neck; if not it can easily pull off the muzzle with its paws. whenever a ferret is severely bitten by a rat the best course to take immediately you get it home is to bathe the wound in clean luke-warm water. see that all the dirt is removed, and then apply a few drops of sweet oil to the wound. repeat this every four hours, until the wound is healed, but until then do not work the ferret lest more dirt gets into the wound. my experience proves this to be the best way to cure a ferret when it has received a severe rat-bite. it is also a good plan occasionally (say once a fortnight) to skin a nice young rat and give it to the ferret. suitable dogs. and now a word or two as to what is a good dog for waterside hunting, or working with the ferrets. i recommend a cross-bred dog, but i find that it is always better to have the pointer breed in it, whatever other breed you get, because the pointer always has the nose or scent. pointer and airedale would be very good, or pointer and irish terrier. i have often noticed that pure-bred dogs are not much good for hunting in buildings or rivers. i have frequently seen a cross-bred dog stand at one side of the river, and if the wind has been in his favour he has winded his nose across the river, and i have sent him over and he has turned a rat out, bolted it into the water, and killed it. the best precaution to take in breaking a dog to rat-catching and waterside hunting (especially if it be a puppy) is to never allow anybody but yourself to have anything to do with it, it being the worst thing possible to let a working dog have too many masters. break it in to the ferrets first, and then it is a good plan to go up the river banks, with either a dead rat or rabbit skin, letting the dog play with it for a while, and then burying it about inches in the river bank; or you may pull up a clod and put it under, only you must not let the dog see where you place it. then take the dog with you near to where the rat or skin is buried, and you will soon see that the dog knows its work. do this a few times, and you will see that once the dog finds the dead rat or the skin it will never forget. the younger the dog the better, the right age to break a puppy this way being about four or five months. break it in for taking to the water at the same time. if you want a good working dog always keep it on the chain when at home, and feed it at the same time as the ferrets, but do not over-feed it; also give it one dose of castor oil or syrup of buckthorn every days. i recommend this because you never know the nasty poisonous stuff that the dog gets on its stomach from the dirty brook and river sides. let me add that all i have written about ferrets and dogs are not given merely from hearsay, but are the facts derived from study and experience during years of dog and ferret-keeping. part iii. the habits of rats. rats breed very quickly. this i have often proved by visiting a given haunt for many years together. i remember an instance in point one june, when out with dog and ferrets. the dog made a set under the root of a tree. i put the ferret in and it bolted eight young rats, nearly half grown, still suckling the bitch rat. when the old rat bolted my dog killed it, and whilst the dog was shaking it i found she was very heavy in young again. this, therefore, will prove how quickly rats breed. another result of my observation may be of interest to my readers. after removing a lot of old rubbish when ratting i came upon a nest of just- born rats, and, in curiosity, i cut the tails off the lot, and then put the young rodents back, leaving the nest undisturbed. when i returned next day, i found the old rat had carried all her young away, and, later, i found the same tailless lot in another part of the building, and, after disturbing them again, i found the following day that the bitch rat had killed every one by eating off their heads. this destruction of the offspring i have witnessed on more than one occasion. the old bitch rat has always killed them in the same way by eating off their heads. i must not forget to tell you of the young rat's dread of the ferrets. i have often seen when the ferrets have been put in the hole the young rats (not many days old and their eyes yet unopened) creep out of the hole. this is a proof that the smell of the ferrets has a tendency to bolt rats, either young or old. old rats are very bold whilst suckling their young. i have seen them very venturesome to get to water, and more eager for water than for food. i have often traced their runs a long way for water, and noticed that when crossing a field to get to a pit or river they never walk, but are always on the run; and in the summer, when they reach the pit, they not only drink, but often swim about. i have frequently watched them swimming on a moonlight night, but they generally go back to the buildings in the early morning, especially in the winter months. another habit i have often noticed. take a farm, or any place where there are many rats, and it will be always found that when a rat gets very old it becomes very greyish in colour and rather scabbed, and its hair comes off, mostly on the back. the healthy rats will then drive the old rat away, and these scabby old rats may be caught by themselves in other parts of the buildings; and, further, i often notice that if the ferrets are bitten with these old rats, they "take bad ways." i never put such rats with the others nor allow my dog to kill them. i would advise any gentleman having a dog he values never to let it touch one of these old scabby rats, as it may prove injurious to the health of the dog. it is surprising how far rats will travel in the night. i have traced their tracks from a stackyard over two or three fields to a farm to get to their food. and you will always find that they have one time for feeding, which is as soon as it is dusk, the young rats being the most venturesome for their food, always coming out first. rats, especially stackyard ones, are of a very clean nature. you will find that after they have had their first feed they diligently wash themselves. these rats feed on nothing but good stuff, such as wheat, corn, and meal; and from experience i find that if a man is bitten on the hand by one of these brown or stack rats it never "takes bad ways," but, if bitten by a dirty drain rat, then whether he cauterises or bathes the wound is no matter, it is sure to "take bad ways." i think the reason of this is because the drain rat, when it cannot get anything else to eat, exists on the worms and slugs, and this, i think, causes the teeth to become more venomous. when bitten in this way blood poisoning is very likely to ensue. indeed, you must understand that the teeth of a full- grown rat are quite half-an-inch long, and the jaw is very strong, so that if you are bitten on the finger it is almost sure to penetrate to the bone. i have known a good many cases of blood poisoning through rat- bites. the damage rats can do to property, commodities, etc., is almost incredible. i have had so many examples of this that i scarcely know which to submit as illustration. i think the worst case i have seen was where they gnawed a hole half way through a - / inch lead pipe, and often i have known them to bite through a one-inch lead pipe. the worst damage is done when they get under the flag floors of cottage houses out of the drains. they scratch the soil from beneath the flags, which then sink, and the consequent stench from the drains is abominable, jeopardising the health of the tenants. i have seen a great many of these cases in the poorer parts of manchester. the damage the rats will do in the silk and similar trades, to the goods of merchants, or in the grocery business, is enormous, and not so much by reason of what they actually eat as by what they carry away, which is often ten times as much as they eat. i have often proved this when ferreting at a wholesale grocery warehouse. when we have taken up the boards between the laths and plaster we have found the ceiling almost full of lump sugar, nuts, candles, etc., which have been there for years, hoarded by the rats. now, this all means heavy loss, and that is why i say that any business man so suffering ought to engage the services of a professional rat-catcher once a year in order to keep the rats down, and catch as many as possible before they begin breeding. another rat habit may be noticed where the rodents are accustomed to have their holes and runs among flags and stones. if they find any soft wood such as pine or white deal, they will nibble at it until it is eaten through. i have often known them to eat right through the legs of tables in the middle of cooking kitchens. this, i think, they do simply to keep their teeth clean and in order; i have known half-grown rats to do the same. rats can exist a long time on herbage, if they can get nothing more palatable. it is a very common thing to find rats in the rabbit burrows when ferreting; in fact, i have seen, not once, but many times, rats, rabbits, and weasels all bolt from the same burrow. i have also unearthed a rat and a rabbit together out of one single burrow. now as to keeping rats in store cages at home. look well after them, and i think it is possible to keep them alive for quite a year; but if you keep, say, in one store cage and neglect their feeding,, you will find that when hungry in the night they will kill the weakest of their number and eat it, sometimes even eating two or three in one night, leaving the skin as clean as if a man had skinned them. it is always the best plan to put the rats in different cages, according to their sizes. the young ones together, the old ones together, and the middle-aged ones together, as they keep themselves much cleaner when thus divided, and do not fight so much as they would otherwise. they must also be kept in a warm place; if not, they soon have cramp. also keep them in a dark place and see that they have plenty of water; sprinkle them now and then with it so that they will wash themselves. it is astonishing what a hungry rat will do. i have seen them in the summer at dusk run at an old hen with her chickens under her, and almost as quick as i tell it, the rat has snatched a live chicken and run with it under a pigsty floor. i have known them to take half-grown young ducks from the water side. i remember once ferreting round a pit, near a barn, and when i put my ferret in the hole, it pulled out two dead chickens and three middle-sized dead ducks, and behind them, not more than a yard deep in the pit bank, was an old rat. i have also known them to get into the coops where a gamekeeper was rearing his pheasants, and to kill nine young ones in a single night all from under the same hen. rats are also fond of eggs. i have read of many ways in which rats take eggs, but in my quarter-of-a-century's experience of ratting i never saw rats take eggs save in one way, and that is, dragging or rolling them along the floor with their front paws, until they get them to the mouth of the hole. i remember one place where i was ferreting. there was an old cellar, the door of which at the top of the steps had to my knowledge been nailed up two or three years. out of the hen house the rats had eaten a hole at each side of the cellar door at the bottom. one day we burst open the door, went into the cellar (where it was impossible for a hen to get whilst the door was closed) and beneath the bottom step we caught two rats. on lifting the flag at the bottom of the steps, we found whole eggs, some good and some bad, all of which i am quite satisfied the rats had carried down those nine stone steps! how they had done so i cannot explain, but content myself with stating only the plain facts of my own personal observation. rats are also very cunning in the water, say a pit or a river. now, a rat can exist in water for at most about seven minutes, and you will find when a dog is swimming after a rat that the rat is watching the dog all the time, for as soon as the dog gets within a yard of the rat the latter will dive under water and come to the surface again about yards away. when the dog has tired the rat out with swimming, you will very often see the rat dive again and come up very quietly and just put its nose out of the water, or rest its head on a floating leaf. it is so cunning that it will remain still there, and if the leaf or reed gives way it will come up at the water side and just thrust out its nose to breathe. by this means the dog loses full scent of the rat. i have also noticed how useful are the rat's front paws and tail. i have seen a rat on the top of a swill tub at a pigsty, when the swill has been about ten inches from the top of the tub. the rat was too cunning to jump down on the wet swill and drown, but i saw it reach as far down the inside of the tub as possible with its front paws and scrape the grease from around the sides! i have also seen the same rat, when unable to scrape any further down the tub sides, turn round, clutch the top of the tub with its front paws, dip its tail into the swill, and then gain the top of the tub and commence licking its tail. i have also tried an experiment with the same tub, which consisted of covering the top of the wet swill with bran, which floated on the surface, and placing a bit of lumpy swill in the middle of the bran, in the hope that the rat would jump on the bran in the expectation of getting at the swill in the middle. however, it did not do so, no doubt instinctively guided against the danger. i have also watched rats run round a set wire or cage trap for a full hour. i have seen them go half way in and out again, look at the bait and never touch it, but go away and never return to the same trap that night. these examples show the cunning instinct of rats. there is, however, one power that the rat is not favoured with, and i am afraid if they were they would be a greater pest. it is the ability of high jumping. a rat cannot, i think, jump higher than three feet six inches, and will have to be very hungry before doing that to obtain food. many people may not know how fierce rats are when fighting. let me instance. i have often taken, one in each hand, two good rats from my cage before a hundred spectators and set the rats at each other on the top of a table. to see them fight would be surprising. they will fight like two bulldogs. when they have got a grip of each other with their teeth i have taken away my hands, and they have stuck and shook one another for at least half-a-minute, although you must understand that the moment they are loose of one another they are off if you don't catch them again. there are several other cunning ways of rats which i can scarcely explain. one must be amongst them regularly to know their wonderful ways and habits. yet another little incident, in conclusion, may be of interest. i once called at a farm where they had been threshing a wheat stack. a rat-catcher had been there but without a dog, and when i arrived two hours afterwards my dog made a set, and commenced scratching amongst the old chaff left at the bottom of the stack, and to the astonishment of myself and the farmer i pulled out of the hole where the dog was scratching live rats! the other rat-catcher, who had been at the threshing all day, had caught only rats. this will serve to show that a rat-catcher must not be without a good dog. and now, respecting the ways and habits of rats i think i have given my readers interesting and varied illustrations of what i have seen and experienced during my time. part iv. life of the rat-catcher. this work will not be complete if i do not deal with the rat-catcher's life. the profession is a peculiar and exciting one, but all right if pursued in the right way. although the calling takes one into dirty and obnoxious places, there is no reason why the rat-catcher should not always appear respectable. the rat-catcher has many temptations to dishonest conducts, for instance, when rat-catching on a farm or private estate where there are numerous rabbits and game. it looks rather hard lines for the rat-catcher to come off a farm with his cage full of rats and see rabbits running about whilst he has all the requisites in his possession for catching them; and yet he must not touch one, but go home and merely reflect on what a good sunday's dinner he is leaving behind. this i have experienced many a time, but i have always found even from the business view-point that the old advice still remains true, "honesty is the best policy." leaving the rabbits to themselves has always turned out to be the best, for to take a rabbit worth a shilling, and get caught in the act, means that you can never go on the same estate again. and from that same estate you might have got rats in a year, worth four shillings a dozen. i must also put in a good word here for the gamekeepers. my opinion is that if you go on a keeper's ground and do what is right, you will be able to go again, for in the whole of my experience never having carried any nets but rat nets when on private estates, i have the consolation of knowing that i should always be welcome on going again to such estates. of course there are inconveniences that the rat-catcher has to put up with. whatever engagements he takes in a town, the only time he can catch rats with a good result is in the night. on one occasion, when going round with my bull's-eye lamp to examine the traps, i was taken for a burglar by the policeman on the beat, and he doubted me so much that he would not release me until i had shown him my cage with rats in and my traps set all over the place. then he took almost as much interest in the catching of rats as myself, and also brought in the other policemen who were outside waiting for me to attempt an escape. ever after that, when i had a night's engagement in any town, i always went to the police station to tell the man on that beat where i was. it behoves the rat-catcher to be always attentive to his customers, those, i mean, who want live rats wherewith to try their dogs. amongst mine i have the honour to include clients of highest rank and position, barristers, magistrates, solicitors and a host of sporting gentry. if the rat-catcher's efforts commend themselves to such gentlemen, and he always maintains a respectable appearance, he will obtain some very nice outings in the country. oft-times a party of gentlemen have sent for me in the summer, having arranged with me to bring four or five ferrets and ratting appliances, and we have gone miles up the country. they would bring their terrier dogs, and we would hunt all along the brooks and rivers, and round the corn and wheat fields, putting the rats we caught into the cage, and after lunch, taking the rats to a meadow and coursing them with their dogs, which i think it real good sport. we would put up at the best hotels and repeat the procedure next day, very often taking a drag or coach, and driving ten or a dozen miles farther up the country. i can assure my readers that the rat-catcher is well remunerated for the trouble he undertakes in these cases, and moreover this is the class of people he requires to fraternise with. there is always a plentiful supply of "refreshments" on these outings, and i would therefore advise the rat-catcher not to indulge too freely. the foregoing is, of course, a brief sketch of the pleasantest part of a rat-catcher's life, and to complete the picture i may as well describe some of the other features, and the way he has to rough it sometimes. well, rat-catchers are generally called upon to supply rats for the rat coursings usually held at beerhouses, etc., on saturday afternoons, which one often sees advertised. now, if he binds himself to supply a coursing at a certain date, the bills announcing the event are printed and posted, all of which means expense. then you are bound to secure the live rats, whatever be the weather. in doing this i always followed the threshing machine to the bays and stacks. (anyone that catches rats regularly can tell by looking at the bays or stacks whether there are many rats in or not.) i remember many times when the men have started threshing a bay of wheat in which were a great many rats, and by dark they have threshed only half of the bay. at such times the rat-catcher must not leave the remaining half, no, not for half-an-hour throughout the whole night, for if he does the rats will run out. to stop the rats from leaving, the rat- catcher has to lie on the top of the bay or go about every thirty minutes and beat the bottom with sticks until daylight, in order to keep the rats in. then, after the machine re-starts, and the bottom of the bay is reached, the rat-catcher will be well paid for his trouble, for he may get, say, good rats for the coursing, at six shillings per dozen. the reason i call them good coursing rats is because they have not been handled, and that enables them to run well. now, when you go to these coursings (which are mostly in the colliery districts) you will find about dogs entered. it is the rat-catcher's business to measure and handicap the dogs, and a very unpleasant job it is. he has also to be the referee at these coursings, and if it is a "near thing" with two dogs running at one rat, and you decide to award the victory to a given one, then the owner of the other dog will probably accuse you of wrong-doing and favouritism. then is the time the rat-catcher has to be prepared to pull off his coat and start fighting before, perhaps, spectators. this has often occurred with me. this, i can assure my readers, is what i call "roughing it." of course, what i have just related occurred a few years ago, but when the muzzling order came into force, the authorities practically stopped rat coursing, for they would not let a dog run at a rat unless the dog was muzzled. this was about the worst thing that the authorities could do for manchester and district, for at that time i was supplying for coursings about rats per week, and at the same time sending rats a week into yorkshire, and all the rats i supplied were caught within miles of manchester. this in my opinion, speaks very bad of the muzzling order, which i think is nothing but a farce, for at the very time i was going ratting, dogs were muzzled in some parts of the country but not in others. my opinion of dog muzzling is, muzzle all or muzzle none. you will see by what i have said respecting these coursings, etc., that the rat-catcher has plenty of work to supply so many live rats, and he has also to mix with company high and low. he also sometimes experiences difficulties in travelling on the railway. i have often entered an empty third-class carriage, sent my dog under the seat, and put the rat cage there also. the carriage would fill with passengers, and upon reaching my destination i would take from under the seat my cage full of live rats, to the amusement of some and the disgust of others. i have also entered a railway carriage with my cage of rats when there were passengers in, one or two of whom would generally object to live rats being in the same compartment, and on enquiring of the railway officials, i have found that any one travelling with live rats is expected to put them in the guard's van. i have also had a few good customers in my business, one or two in particular. gentlemen have often sent me post-cards instructing me to take six or twelve rats to their residences. i would run them out on the lawn in front of the house with their dogs, and generally i have received good remuneration for my trouble. these are the customers who should be looked well after, for they are the sportsmen who do not consider expense, though of course there are others who are just the opposite. further, rat-catching is a business in which one is not called upon to allow credit. it is all a ready-money trade, and as there is not much competition, the rat-catcher can command a good price for his work. he has always one resource open to him when he has finished a job according to contract (catching say or rats), should there be a dispute about the price and the people decline to pay the bill, then he has the expedient of letting the rats at liberty again in the place where he had caught them. most people will pay the price you send in rather than have the rats turned loose again. although i am showing how the rat-catcher can always have the advantage of stubborn payers, i may as well assure my readers that in all my experience such an occurrence as the above has never happened with me, simply because i always make my arrangements beforehand, which course i always find the best and most satisfactory all round. another matter i may mention. if any one could find out a sure way of catching rats so that he could give a guarantee to clear large buildings, my opinion is that he would make a fortune in a very short time; for i know firms in manchester alone that would pay almost any amount to be rid of the rats; not only because of what they consume, but more for the damage they do to their goods. i have referred to the rat-catcher obtaining good pay. the reason he commands such a big price for his work at the present time is because there is not much sale for live rats. the trade is not what it was some years ago when rat-pits were allowed. i think it was one of the worst things they ever did for this country when the authorities stopped the rat pits, for when rat killing was allowed in pits, it was a common thing for a rat-catcher to receive an order for rats, all to be killed at one time; then the rat-catcher would get the rats and wherever he got them from he was ridding that district of a nuisance. but when the authorities stopped rat-pits and rat-coursing, the consequence was that the rat-catcher left the rats to breed in thousands. rats being vermin, i don't see why they should not be killed or at a time in the pit, but the humane society maintain that it is cruelty to dogs to put them in a pit with a lot of rats. i don't see where the cruelty comes in, but from what i have seen of rat-pits during my time i approve of them, and i think if they were in existence again there would be a clearing of many thousands of rats. some or years since, i supplied rats in one week, all to be killed in rat-pits. many of my readers may not understand what a rat-pit is, and so i will just give an outline as well as i can. the rat-pit is of circular construction, say ten feet diameter, and about four feet six inches deep, the sides being perfectly smooth to prevent the rats climbing up and making their escape. a certain number of rats are placed in the pit according to the arrangements made with the owner of the dog. then the dog is put in the pit with the rats to kill them, which a good dog does very quickly. the reason the pit is built circular is so that the rats will keep running round, for if it were square they would all run in a corner, one on the other, and then the dog would have no difficulty in killing them. it is better to have the pit fairly deep; if not, the rats might escape. i think the best dog, within my recollection, that i have seen was a bull and fox terrier, which killed good rats in three minutes and seconds. i have read and heard of dogs doing better feats, but i am only writing of what i have myself seen. i may say that the records for rat- killing in rat-pits are held by a dog called jacko, which killed rats in minutes and seconds, and , rats in less than one hour and minutes. the rat-catcher has also some very dirty jobs to do sometimes. often he has to go under all sorts of cellar floors, both wet and dry, but the majority of places are very wet and dirty, for the rats nearly always come out of some filthy drain, and very often near a water-closet, the abominable smell arising from these places being sufficient to cause a fever. i remember being once employed at a hospital, and i was paid at the rate of s. per visit for trapping rats. well, i found that s. per visit did not pay me (i had about traps set all over the place), so i went before the committee and requested s. per night. the committee said they thought s. per visit was enough, and one or two of them said they thought s. per night was above a rat-catcher's pay. now, as i was not depending on that particular job at the time, i turned round and told them what i thought. i told them i considered rat-catching was a skilled occupation, and i also offered any of them a five-pound note if they would only follow me under the floors at midnight, not to speak of taking the live rats out of the traps in the dark; but i can assure you that none of these gentlemen would venture to undertake the task. now, if any of these gentlemen had to do this a few times they would not refuse to pay the rat-catcher the sum he asks, viz., s. per night. i remember more than once in big places such as bonding warehouses, when i have been under the floors, my candle or lamp has gone out through being knocked over with grabbing at rats, and i have not had a match in my pocket, and have had to grope about in the dark trying to find the trap-door where i have got under the floors, more often than not putting my hand in a set trap. it would be of no use shouting for a light simply because i have been alone. it is always better for a rat-catcher to have assistance for night work, but i have done it myself very often. now, the expenses of travelling come very heavy sometimes, for wherever the rat-catcher goes he always has to pay railway fare for himself and his dog. another thing i must tell you. often when i have gone to inspect a small building i have found that there were a great many rats in, but i have also known, after inspecting the place, that they have all come from the one place, out of the drain. well, if i have contracted to do this job for a lump sum, i could easily clear this place and not catch an odd rat, simply by ferreting them all back into the sewer in the daytime, and then making it good; but in most of these cases they do not like to pay your bill because you have caught no rats. still, you have driven them all down the drains, and after making the drain good they cannot get back again into the building. now, in a case like this i always trap them two or three nights and catch a few, just to give satisfaction to those engaging me. sometimes gentlemen will write inviting me to meet them at a certain farm, and bring my ferrets and a good supply of nets, alleging that there are "hundreds of rats in the stacks." i just relate this to indicate how anyone not regularly amongst rats can easily be deceived as to their numbers, for a couple of rats on the thatch of a stack, especially when they have young ones, will probably have twelve holes eaten in the thatch and underneath the stack, and anyone not understanding their habits would think there were a lot of rats in it. and it is much the same with workpeople; if they chance to see two or three rats at once, they will say there are "scores" of them. you would also be surprised to see the awful dread that tenants have of the rat- catcher in private houses. when ferreting these places they think that if a rat-catcher has once put his ferrets under the floor they will never see another rat in the place; but depend upon it they are very bad to catch in these places. i have often had much trouble respecting houses, warehouses, etc., to know whose duty it would be to pay the rat-catcher for his work, the landlord's or the tenant's, but i think that the landlord should pay. i have had many engagements to catch rats in newly-built houses before they were tenanted. the time the rats get into these places is whilst the workmen are putting the drains in the back yards, leaving the drains open at nights. thence the rats come out and get under the floors, sometimes having to stop there, too, simply because the next day the joiners board up the floors and thus block the rats in underneath, and then the rats can always get into the kitchens up the back of the fireplace. most property owners would do well to take note of this fact. i must tell my readers, especially those having large shops, etc., that it is a good plan, if possible, to turn off the gas and water every night and week-end, for i have seen a good many cases where the rats in the night-time have eaten through a water-pipe, and the place has been flooded by morning. it is just the same with a gas-pipe, and my opinion is that it is quite possible for fires to be caused by rats in the night- time. rats are very fond of nibbling and scratching at soft wood, and it would be an easy matter at a grocer's shop for a rat to bite or scratch through the package of a gross of matches and ignite them, and the same cause may prove disastrous with any other inflammable goods. respecting the conveyance of live rats, the rat-catcher should always be particular to have good strong cages and bags, because if he had a number of rats in an unserviceable bag which happened to break open at a railway station or in the street, i think he could be summoned for the damage the escaped rats might do. still, i have not in my time had or heard of a case of this sort. speaking of bags, a good many people seem to think that if a man puts his hand into a bagful of rats they will bite him, but i can assure you that a child could do the same thing and not be bitten. should there be only two or three in the bag, then they will bite, but not in the event of there being a good number. the same rule applies to rats stored in a cage, where there is open daylight--if there be or rats together, it is then the habit of the rats for all to cling together, and they will let you handle them anyway if only you will have sufficient courage. it is very good sport for gentlemen who want a good day's outing to go to farms when threshing is on, and also to go hunting and ferreting round the corn and wheat fields, and i think many sporting gentlemen who have not seen such sport would indulge in it freely after they had once witnessed it. i think it is much better and healthier sport than rabbit- shooting, especially in the summer when the farmers are cutting their corn and wheat. when catching rats as a regular pursuit, one is surprised at the queer places in which he finds them. i recollect ferreting seven full-sized rats from under the floor of a built dog kennel not above four yards square, where a large mastiff and a terrier dog slept every night, only a / -inch board dividing them from the rats, and the rats having eaten holes through the boards in the kennel! i have also found at an out-house an old bitch rat and nine young ones in an old tin trunk without a lid. i have also caught rats and taken young ones out of the nest from under railway sleepers where trains have been running and shunting operations carried on every day. and i have even taken old and young ones in their nest from a pile of cheshire cheese, at a wholesale cheese and bacon factor's! and mentioning cheese in this connection reminds me that once i discovered that rats had scratched and eaten a hole direct through the bottom lot of cheese in a pile which had only been there three weeks. a word or two about what a rat will do with a ferret. i have often seen a rat run a ferret out of the hole, and then wait with its head out of the hole until the ferret has come to it again. i remember once ferreting at a hencote, and put the ferret behind the hen nest, whereupon the rat attacked the ferret, which then jumped back and died in five minutes, the rats having given only one bite behind the ferret's ear! of course this is a very rare occurrence. true, i have had many ferrets killed by rats in my time, but it has always occurred through the poisonous bite first swelling and then "taking bad ways," the ferret dying in probably a week or so. you must understand that if you put a rat and a ferret together in a tub the ferret would kill the rat in nine cases out of ten, the nature of the rat being to get away from the ferret if possible; but if it cannot it will fight, and i think a rat, for its size, is of a very vicious nature, for i have often seen when trying a puppy at killing a rat in a pit, that a game rat will run the puppy all round the pit. the best way to try a pup to kill a rat is to draw the teeth of the first rat it secures for sometimes if a pup gets a severe bite from a rat it will never look at another. it is a very bad plan to let a pup play with a rat too much, for this causes the pup never to put a hard mouth on the rat. when this latter occurs it is the best plan not to allow the same pup to see another rat until it is a month or two older. if you will take care and trouble with a pup you can bring it up to your own liking, and to do anything you want. i have worked seven years with a curly-coated retriever bitch, and when ferreting a brook she would stand in the water and catch the rats that escaped from the nets into the brook and bring them to me alive in her mouth. i have sold hundreds of rats she has caught in this manner, and to show you how the dogs can be brought up with the ferrets i need only mention that this bitch would lie down and let two ferrets kill a rat on the curly coat of her back. farmers know too well of the many restless nights the cows and horses experience through rats. i have seen when trapping all night at a farm the rats running over the cows and horses whilst sleeping: and when horses have been working in the field all day they want better rest in the night. i have known when farmers would not let the rat-catcher ferret their buildings gratis, simply because they have a few hens sitting. they don't consider that when the hens have hatched the eggs the rats will take the chickens. whenever a farmer has refused to let me ferret at his farm i have passed that farm ever afterwards. to show you the different dispositions of farmers i have met, i may mention that when once ferreting at a farm, we caught nine rats and lost the ferret, and two days afterwards the ferret was found on the farm, and i sent for it, but the farmer demanded two shillings of me for the ferret's keep. this same man i may add farmed about two hundred acres. of course, there are other farmers just the opposite, who will not only pay you for your trouble, but take great interest in helping you to catch the rats. i relate these facts and incidents to show you the contrast in the disposition of different people one meets in this business. i don't think the rat-catcher's life is one of the worst if he looks well after his business, for he has a few advantages over other occupations. in the first place, he is his own master, and need only doff his coat when he chooses, there being for him no such summons to work as a factory bell. and if he fancies a day's outing in the country he can always take his dog and ferrets with him, and make a day's pleasure into a remunerative business, by reason of the income from the rats, and i find from experience that the best friends he has are his dog and ferrets, if he will look well after them and treat them kindly, for i think that a rat-catcher in the country without a good dog might walk over scores of rats and never know they were there, so you will see that his dog is chiefly what he has to trust to. and now, in conclusion, let me express the hope that this book will prove instructive, entertaining, and profitable to my readers, inasmuch as i have endeavoured to make it so to the best of my ability and within the somewhat limited scope and sphere of a rat-catcher's calling. of course, i might have made the narrative portion of the book more startling and exciting, had i drawn upon my imagination, but i have thought it best to adhere to cold fact and actual experience. hints on rabbit shooting. always have your gun made at your gunmaker's to your own liking. always be prepared for the worst of weather, and be sure to have good strong boots. never have your gun on full cock while walking about, especially whilst going through a fence. never stand too close to a burrow, and don't be too eager to shoot. always have your gun pointed upwards to the clouds or down to the ground. never shoot at a rabbit as it sits on the top of the hole, or you might shoot the ferret. always stand so that all the shooters can see one another. never remove from where the gamekeeper places you. never have your gun barrels up while it is raining. when you go out in the country always provide yourself with refreshments before starting. if you miss an easy shot don't blame the gun. don't be too excited, and get well on the rabbits before you pull. if the keeper's dog is retrieving rabbits never attempt to take one from it. author's notes. ike matthews is prepared to go out ratting with parties of gentlemen or their gamekeepers on their private estates during the summer, supplying dog, ferrets, and nets, at moderate charges. arrangements may be made by post. ike matthews is also willing to go out rabbit-shooting with gentlemen during the season, and will supply and work ferrets at reasonable charges. he is also prepared to break dogs and puppies to ferreting and ratting on reasonable terms. any number of live rats and rabbits supplied at a few days' notice. all orders promptly attend to. undeniable references. yours truly, ike matthews. note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/ / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/ / -h.zip) transcriber's note: at the time this book was written, rats were classified as _mus rattus_ and _mus norvegicus_. the genus _rattus_ did not become standardized until the th century. notes on the animals in chapter vii are at the end of the e-text, along with the errata. the rambles of a rat. [illustration: poorer than rats. "the old blind rat had a bit of stick in its mouth, and the pretty black rat took the other end in his teeth." --page .] the rambles of a rat. by a. l. o. e. [illustration: a new kind of watchdog. "whiskerandos looked surprised at the unexpected defiance; but my feelings of amazement can scarcely be conceived when i recognised the dumpy form, blunt head, and piebald skin, of my lost brother oddity." --page .] t. nelson and sons, london, edinburgh, and new york. the rambles of a rat by a. l. o. e., author of "the giant-killer," "pride and his prisoners," &c. &c. [decoration] london: t. nelson and sons, paternoster row; edinburgh; and new york. . preface let not my readers suppose that in writing the rambles of a rat i have simply been blowing bubbles of fancy for their amusement, to divert them during an idle hour. like the hollow glass balls which children delight in, my bubbles of fancy have something solid within them,-- facts are enclosed in my fiction. i have indeed made rats talk, feel, and reflect, as those little creatures certainly never did; but the courage, presence of mind, fidelity, and kindness, which i have attributed to my heroes, have been shown by real rats. such adventures as i have described have actually happened to them, unless they be those recorded in the th chapter, for which i have no authority. for my anecdotes of this much-despised race i am principally indebted to an interesting article on the subject which appeared in the "quarterly review." i would suggest to my readers how wide and delightful a field of knowledge natural history must open to all, when there is so much to interest and admire even in those animals which we usually regard with contempt and disgust. the examination of the wondrous works of nature is a study elevating as well as delightful; for the more deeply we search into the wonders around us, the more clearly we discover the wisdom which is displayed even in the lowest forms of creation! a. l. o. e. [decoration] contents chap. page. i. the family of rats ii. a clap-trap discovery iii. poorer than rats iv. how i made a friend v. how bob met with an adventure vi. how i visited the zoological gardens vii. finding relations viii. how i heard of old neighbours ix. how we found a feast x. the want of a dentist xi. a removal xii. a new road to fame xiii. how i set out on my voyage xiv. a terrible word xv. first view of st. petersburg xvi. a russian kitchen xvii. a ramble over st. petersburg xviii. how we were transported xix. a storm and its consequences xx. catch him--dead or alive! xxi. a new kind of watch-dog xxii. the farmer and his bride xxiii. a peep through the roses [decoration] [illustration: a l o e] the rambles of a rat. chapter i. the family of rats. my very earliest recollection is of running about in a shed adjoining a large warehouse, somewhere in the neighbourhood of poplar, and close to the river thames, which thereabouts is certainly no silver stream. a merry life we led of it in that shed, my seven brothers and i! it was a sort of palace of rubbish, a mansion of odds and ends, where rats might frolic and gambol, and play at hide-and-seek, to their hearts' content. we had nibbled a nice little way into the warehouse above mentioned; and there, every night, we feasted at our ease, growing as sleek and plump as any rats in the united kingdom. we were of an ancient race of british rats, my seven brothers and i. it is said that our ancestors came over with the conqueror, william; and we are not a little proud of our norman descent. our smaller forms, sleek black coats, long tails, and fine large ears, make us altogether distinct from the norwegian brown rat, on which we look with-- i was going to say with contempt, but i rather think that it is quite another feeling, and one to which neither rats nor men generally like to plead guilty. i know that we do not usually choose to keep company with them; but whether it be because their forms are coarser, their manners less refined, and their pedigree not so long, or whether it be because they sometimes have a fancy to nibble off the ears of their neighbours, or, when their appetite is uncommonly sharp, make a meal of their norman cousins, we need not particularly inquire. i said that i and my seven brothers were black rats; but i ought to make one exception. the youngest of the family was piebald-- a curious peculiarity, which i never noticed in any other of our race. yes, he was piebald; and not only had he this misfortune, but he was the clumsiest and most ill-shaped rat that ever nibbled a candle-end! now, this was no fault of his, and certainly was no reason why he should have been despised by his more fortunate brothers. man, of course, as a superior creature, would only look with kindness and pity upon a companion so unhappy as to have personal defects. he would never ridicule a condition which might have been his own, nor find a subject for merriment in that which to another was a cause of annoyance; but we were only inconsiderate young rats, and there was no end to our jokes on our piebald comrade. "oddity," "guinea-pig," "old spotty," and "frightful"-- such were the names which we gave him. the first was that by which he was best known, and the only one to which he chose to answer. but he was a good-humoured fellow, poor oddity, and bore our rudeness with patience and temper. he pursued the plan which i would recommend to all rats in his position: he joined the mirth which his own appearance raised; and when we made merry at the awkward manner in which he waddled after his more light-footed companions, he never took it amiss, nor retired into a corner of the shed to sulk, amidst rope-ends and bits of rusty iron. i have said that we had merry nights in the warehouse. often has the moon looked in through the dull, many-paned windows, lighting our revels; though we cared little for light, our delicate feelers almost supplying the place of eyes. but one night above all nights i remember! there had been a great deal of moving about in the warehouse during the day, running of trucks, and rolling of casks. brisk, the liveliest of my brothers, had sat watching in a hole from noon until dusk, and now hurried through our little passage into the shed, where we were all nestling behind some old canvass. he brought us news of a coming feast. "a ship has arrived from india," said he, "and we'll have a glance at the cargo. they've been busy stowing it away next door. there's rice--" the brotherhood of rats whisked their tails for joy! "sugar--" there was a universal squeak of approbation. "indigo--" "that's nothing but a blue dye obtained from a plant," observed furry, an old, blind rat, who in his days had travelled far, and seen much of the world, and had reflected upon what he had viewed far more than is common with a rat. indeed, he passed amongst us for a philosopher, and i had learnt not a little from his experience; for he delighted in talking over his travels, and but for a little testiness of temper, would have been a very agreeable companion. he very frequently joined our party; indeed, his infirmities obliged him to do so, as he could not have lived without assistance. but i must now return to brisk, and his catalogue of the cargo. "opium--" "the juice of the white poppy," said our aged friend, who had a taste for general information. "i've seen it produce strange effects when eaten in large quantities by men." "what effects?" said i. i was a very inquisitive rat, and especially curious about all that related to the large creatures upon two legs, called man, whom i believed to be as much wiser as they are stronger than the race of mus, to which i belong. "why, opium makes men first wild and bold, so that they will rush into danger or run into folly, quarrel with their friends and fight their foes, laugh and dance, and be merry they know not why. then they grow sleepy, and though their lives might depend on it, not a step would they stir. then, when they awake from their unnatural sleep, their bodies are cold, their heads heavy; they feel sick, and faint, and sad! and if this should happen day after day, at last the strong grows weak and the healthy ill, the flesh goes from the bones and the life from the eyes, and the whole man becomes like some old, empty hulk, whose timbers will hardly hold together! and all this from eating opium!" "ugh!" exclaimed brisk; "leave opium to man; it is a great deal too bad for rats!" chapter ii. a clap-trap discovery. with eager haste we scrambled into the warehouse, furry, as usual, remaining behind on account of his infirmities. we were almost too impatient to wait till the men within should have finished their work, till the doors should be shut and locked, and the place left in quiet for us. i soon found out what was to me a singular curiosity-- a tooth; i felt certain that it was a tooth; but it was twice as long as any rat, counting from the tip of his nose to the end of his tail! i could not help wondering in my mind to what huge animal it could ever have belonged. "isn't that called ivory?" said oddity, as he waddled past me. i felt inexpressible pleasure in gnawing and nibbling at the huge tusk, and polishing my sharp teeth upon it. "how i should like to see the enormous rat that could have carried such a tusk!" i exclaimed. "oh! how i should delight in travelling and seeing the world!" "you've something to see worth the seeing, without travelling far!" cried brisk. "such a fragrance of cheese as there is yonder! why, ratto, its delicious scent reaches us even here!" i was so busy with my tusk and my reflections, that i scarcely looked up; but oddity turned his eyes eagerly towards the spot. "now, i propose that we have a race to the place!" cried brisk; "and he who gets first shall have his pick of the feast! leave ratto to his old bone! here are seven of us: now for it; once, twice, thrice, and away!" off they scampered helter-skelter, all my seven brothers, awkward heavy oddity, as usual, in the rear. he had often been laughed at for his slowness, but this time it was well for him that he was slow! on rushed the six foremost, almost together, scrambling one over another in their haste; they disappeared into what looked like a dark hole, and then-- alas! alas! what a terrible squeaking! poor unhappy brothers! all caught in a trap! all at the mercy of their cruel enemy, man! i ran to the spot in a terrible fright. nothing of my six companions could i see; but oddity, with a very disconsolate look, was staring at the drop of the trap. his had been a very narrow escape,-- it had grazed his ugly nose as it fell! this is a very melancholy part of my story, and i will hasten over it as fast as i can. in vain the poor captive rats tried to gnaw their way to freedom from within, while oddity and i nibbled from without. there was something which defied even our sharp little teeth, and all our efforts were in vain. my poor brothers could not touch the fatal feast which had lured them to their ruin! they passed a miserable night, and were every one carried off in a bag to be worried by dogs in the morning! "cruel, wicked man!" i exclaimed, as with my piebald companion i sought my old shelter behind the canvass in our shed. my exclamation was overheard by old furry. "cruel, wicked man!" he repeated, but in a different tone from mine; "well, i think that even when setting a trap to catch inexperienced rats, man may have something to say for himself. i have often noticed the big creatures at work, and much they labour, and hard they toil, and we can't expect them to be willing to take so much trouble to collect dainties just to feast us! those who live on the property of others, like rats, have no right to expect civil treatment!" "are there any creatures that lay traps for man?" said i, in the bitterness of my spirit almost hoping that there might be. "as well as i can understand," replied furry, "man himself lays traps for man. i have seen several of these traps. they are large, and generally built of brick, with a board and gilt letters in front. they are baited with a certain drink, which has effects something like opium, which destroys slowly but surely those who give themselves up recklessly to its enjoyment." "well," cried oddity, "having once seen what comes of running into a trap, i, for one, shall be always on my guard against them, and am never likely to be caught in that way. i suppose that it is the same with man. when he sees that one or two of his companions are lost by the big man-trap, he takes good care never to go near it himself." "not a whit!" exclaimed furry, with a scornful whisk of his tail. "they like the bait, though they know its effects quite well. they walk with open eyes into the great man-trap, they hasten merrily into the great man-trap, when the gas-lights are flaring, and the spirits flowing, and the sound of laughter and jesting is heard within! they know that they are going the straight, direct way to be worried by sickness, poverty, and shame, (what these are i never heard clearly explained, but i have gathered that they are great enemies of man, who are always waiting at the door of the great man-trap,) and yet they go gaily to their ruin!" "so this is your account of the wise creature man!" i exclaimed; "he is a great deal more foolish than any rat!" chapter iii. poorer than rats. we had not our shed always to ourselves. one cold evening in autumn, when there was a sharp east wind, and a drizzling rain, two human creatures came into the place and cowered down in a corner of our shed. i call them human creatures, for they certainly were not men; they were so different from the tall powerful fellows whom i had occasionally seen at their work in the warehouse. these were much smaller, and so thin that their bones seemed almost ready to break through the skin. their hair hung in long loose masses about their ears. they had nothing on their feet to protect them from the stones, and one of them had a hurt upon his heel, which looked red and inflamed. i found that these were young human beings, neglected and uncared for, as young rats would not have been. we were at first afraid of them, and only peered out curiously upon them from our holes and hiding-places; but when, gathering courage, we ventured to come forward, we seemed to frighten them as much as they had frightened us. "look there-- there, bob!" screamed the younger child, clinging more closely to his brother. "them bees rats," said the other one more quietly. his poor thin little face looked as if the life and spirit had been so starved out of it, that he could not be much astonished at anything. "i don't like staying here, bob, amongst the rats!" cried the terrified little one, attempting to pull his brother towards the entrance by the sleeve of his jacket. the wretched rag gave way even under his weak pull, and another rent was added to the many by which the cold crept in through the poor boy's tattered dress. "i won't stay here; let us go, let us go!" "we've no-wheres to go to," replied bob, in the same dull, lifeless tone. "never you mind the rats, billy, them won't hurt you," he added. hurt him! not we! if ever i felt pity it was for those ragged little urchins. we were well-fed, but they were hungry; nature had given us sleek warm coats, but they trembled with cold. it was very clear that it was much harder to them to support life than if they had been rats. i wondered if in this great city there were many such helpless children, and if there were none to care for them! "i say, ratto," observed oddity, licking his soft coat till the beautiful polish upon it made one almost forget its ugly colour, "'tis a pity that these children are so dirty; but may be they are not so particular about such matters as we rats." in time a sort of acquaintance grew up between me and the ragged boys. we ceased to fear each other, and i would venture almost close to billy's thin little hand when he had a crust of bread to eat, for he always broke off a little bit for me. the poor little fellow was crippled and lame, so he rarely left the shed. bob often went out in the morning, and returned when it was growing dark, sometimes with food, and sometimes without it; but whenever he had anything to eat, he always shared it with his little lame brother. i see them now, crouched close up together for the sake of warmth. sometimes billy cried from hunger and cold, and his tears made long lines down his grimy face. bob never cried, he suffered quite quietly; he patted his little brother's shaggy head, and spoke kindly to him, in his dull, cheerless way. i felt more sorry for him than for billy. the little one was the more talkative of the two. perhaps he was more lively in his nature; or perhaps, from having been a shorter time in a world of sorrow, he had not learned its sad lessons so well. i certainly never heard him laugh but once, and then it was when oddity, who was more shy than i, ventured for the first time since billy's coming to cross the shed. "oh! look-- look, bob! what a funny rat! what a beauty rat!" he cried, clapping his bony hands together with childish glee. it was comical to see the expression on oddity's blunt face on hearing this unexpected compliment, perhaps the first that he had ever received in his life. it was enough to have turned the head of a less sober rat; but he, honest fellow, only lifted up his snub nose with a sort of bull-dog look, which seemed to say, "well, there's no accounting for taste." "bob," said little billy one evening, with more animation than usual, "i'se been a-watching the rats, and i saw-- only think what i saw!" "eh, what did ye see?" replied bob, drowsily, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. he looked very hungry and tired. "i was a-watching for the fat spotted one which ran across yesterday, when out came creeping, creeping, two others" --the child with his fingers on the floor suited his action to his words,-- "and one had some white on its back; it looked old and weak; and bob, i saw as how it was blind." "a blind rat!" cried bob; "'twould soon starve, i take it." "but there was the other rat at its side, with such shining eyes, and such a sharp little nose!" i plead guilty to vanity; i could not hear such a description of myself with oddity's sober composure. "and the old blind rat had a little bit of stick in its mouth, just as the blind man in the lane has a stick in his hand, and the pretty black rat took the other end in his teeth, and so pulled the old un on his way." "i'se never heard of rats doing that afore," said bob. "that's not all that i saw about 'em," continued billy. "out comes the funny spotted rat from its hole; so i keeps very quiet, not to frighten it away. and it pattered up to the place where i put the little crumbs; and what do you think as it did?" "ate them," was bob's quiet reply. "no, but it didn't though!" cried billy, triumphantly; "it pushed them towards the old blind rat. neither the black un nor the spotted un ate up one crumb; they left 'em all for the poor blind rat! now wasn't them famous little fellows!" "so rats help one another," said bob. he did not speak more; but as he leant back his head, and looked straight up at the roof of the shed, (there was a great hole in it which the stars shone through, and now and then a big drop of water from the top came plash, plash, on the muddy floor below,) he looked up, i say, and i wonder whether he was thinking the same thing as i was at that moment: "rats help one another; do none but human beings leave their fellow-creatures to perish!" chapter iv. how i made a friend. i always ate my supper in the warehouse, but i need hardly say that oddity and i carefully avoided the spot where the tragedy of our six brothers had occurred. we were by no means the only rats who found a living in the place at the expense of our enemy, man. there were a good many of the species of the large brown norwegian rat; but as i have mentioned before, we usually kept out of their way, from a tender regard for our own ears. there was one brown rat, however, whose fame had spread, not only in his own tribe, but in ours. for quickness of wit, readiness in danger, strength of teeth, and courage in using them, i have never yet met with his equal. whiskerandos was a hero of a rat. was it not he who in single combat had met and conquered a young ferret! an exploit in itself quite sufficient to establish his fame as a warrior. they had been opposed to each other in a room lighted by a single window. whiskerandos, whose intelligence at once showed him the importance of position, took his station beneath this window, so that the light was in his enemy's eyes, and compelled him to fight at disadvantage. for two long hours the battle lasted, but at length the ferret lay dead upon the floor! several scars upon the neck of whiskerandos bore witness to this terrible encounter, and many others in which he had been engaged. he had lost one ear, and the other had been grievously curtailed of its proportions, so that altogether he had paid for fame at the price of beauty; but he was strong and bold as ever, and his appearance one night in our warehouse created quite a sensation in the community of rats. there was one brown rat, in particular, that seemed to wait upon him, and pay him court, as though, having no merit of his own, shabby fancied that he could borrow a little from a distinguished companion. i have often seen this in life, (i am now an old and experienced rat,) i have seen a mean race following and flattering their superiors, ready to lick the dust from their feet, not from real admiration or attachment, but, like a mistletoe upon a forest tree, because they had no proper footing of their own, and liked to be raised on the credit of another. it is easier to them to fawn than to work, to flatter the great than to follow their example. i own that i was afraid of whiskerandos, and yet he passed without touching me, quite above the meanness of hurting a creature merely because it was weaker than himself. but shabby gave such a savage snap at my ear that i retreated squeaking into a corner. i almost think that i should have returned the bite, had not his formidable companion been so near; and it was probably this circumstance which gave the mean rat courage thus to attack me without provocation. from what i have heard of boys tormenting cats, mice, birds, anything that they can easily master, while they pay proper respect to bulldogs and mastiffs, i have an idea that there are some shabbys to be found even amongst "the lords of creation." i was busy at my supper, when, chancing to look towards the fatal hole in which my six brothers had been caught, i saw whiskerandos and his follower merrily advancing towards it, doubtless attracted, as the former victims had been, by a very enticing scent. i do not know how man would have behaved in my position. these certainly were no friends of mine; but then they were rats; they were of the race of mus. i could not see them perish without warning them of their danger. "stop! stop!" squeaked i, keeping, however, at a respectful distance; "you are running right into a trap!" whiskerandos turned sharp round and faced me. i retreated back several steps. "bite him,-- fight him,-- shake him by the neck!" cried shabby; "he knows there is a dainty feast there, and he would keep it all for his ugly black rats!" shabby was a great fighter with words; those of his character usually are; nor was he in the least particular, when he gave his bad names, that they were in the least suitable and appropriate, or he would never have applied the term "ugly" to us. "you'll pay for your dainty feast if you go one foot farther!" i exclaimed; feeling, i confess it, very angry. "who's afraid!" cried the boaster, flinging up his hind legs with a saucy flourish as he scampered on. clap! he was caught in the trap! poor rat! had he possessed the courage and skill of whiskerandos himself, they would have availed him nothing. his miserable squeaking was louder than that of all my six brothers put together. he would not take advice, and he found the consequences. he thought himself wiser than his neighbours, and only discovered his mistake when it had led him to destruction. had he only listened to the counsels of a little black rat! whiskerandos remained for some moments quite still, looking towards the dismal prison of his companion. he knew too well that it was impossible to rescue him now. then, with such bounds as few rats but himself could make, he sprang to where i was standing. "rat!" he exclaimed, "you have saved my life, and i shall never forget the obligation. though you are black and i am brown, no difference between us shall ever be regarded. let us be friends to the end of our days!" "agreed!" i cried; "let's rub noses upon it!" and noses we accordingly rubbed. he never flinched from his word, that bold whiskerandos. i never feared him from that hour; no, not even when i knew that he was hungry, and had tasted no food from morning till night; i knew that no extremity would ever induce him to eat up his friend; and many a ramble have we had together, and through many strange paths has he led me. i ventured even into the haunts of the brown rats, for his presence was a sufficient protection. none would have dared to attack me while he was beside me,-- i should hardly have been afraid of a cat! i had naturally a fancy for roving, and a great desire to know more of the world; and what better guide could i have had than the heroic whiskerandos? he had not, however, been so great a traveller as furry,-- he had never yet crossed the water; but he and i determined, on some favourable opportunity, to take our passage in a ship, and explore some foreign region together. there was but one subject on which whiskerandos and i were ever in danger of quarrelling. i had made up my mind-- and furry, who was a very learned rat, was quite of the same opinion-- that the ancestors of the brown rats came over from hanover to england with george i. we liked to call them hanover rats, but this gave great offence to the race, as it made their antiquity so much less than that which we claimed for ourselves. "you affirm," whiskerandos would exclaim, "that you came over from normandy in , and we from hanover in , and that nothing was ever heard of us before that time. i affirm that it is a calumny, a base calumny! we came from persia, from the land of the east; an army of us swam across the volga, driven by an earthquake from our own country. depend upon it, we were known there in ancient times, and went over xerxes' great bridge of boats, and nibbled at his tent-ropes and gnawed his cheese while he fought with the greeks at thermopylæ." "after all," thought i-- i did not say it aloud, for the great weakness of whiskerandos was his pride of birth, his anxiety to be thought of an ancient family-- "the great matter is not whether our ancestors do honour to us, but whether by our conduct we do not disgrace our ancestors." chapter v. how bob met with an adventure. i was often puzzled by the conduct of bob; that was to be expected, seeing that i was a young and ignorant rat, quite inexperienced in the doings of man. once or twice bob had brought to the shed things which he could not eat and did not wear. i could neither imagine where he had got them, what he intended to do with them, nor what possible use he could make of them. he seemed inclined to hide them; and once, when he was showing to billy a red handkerchief covered with white spots (though the weather was bitterly cold, he never attempted to tie it round his neck), the little boy looked up gravely into his face and said, "oh, bob, arn't you afeard?" "what am i to do; we can't starve, billy." he looked so wan and so woe-begone, as he bent over the little lame child, that it seemed to me that never was a creature so wretched as that desolate boy. the next morning he took away the handkerchief, and in the evening he brought home bread. once when he returned, the snow was fast falling, drifting through the roof, and in at the door, till billy could scarcely find a clear spot on which to rest his languid little frame. he was always on the look-out for his brother, as soon as the sky began to darken. well might he watch on that day, for he had not broken his fast since the evening before; and his lips were blue with hunger and cold, and he was lonely, very lonely, in the shed. presently bob came hastily in; we had not heard his step on the soft snow. the flakes were resting on his rags and whitening his hair, as he threw himself down by his brother. "oh! billy!" he exclaimed, and burst into tears. "what have you got?" cried the little one joyfully. "a big loaf!" and he tore it asunder in his eager haste, and ate like a famished creature. "and see this!" said bob; and he wrapped round the shivering child a warm cloak which he had carried on his arm. billy opened his eyes with an expression of astonishment, which brightened into joy as he felt the unwonted warmth. "oh! bob!" he exclaimed, with his mouth full of bread; "where did you get this? did you steal it?" "no; and i'll never steal no more; never, never!" and the boy sank his head down upon his chest, and sobbed. i had never seen him shed a tear till that day. "tell me all about it, tell me!" cried billy, almost frightened by his brother's unwonted emotion; but it was a little time before bob made reply. "i followed he-- a fine, tall gemman. i had my fingers in his pocket, and he clapped his hand on 'em, and catched me!" "oh!" exclaimed billy, with eyes and mouth wide open, in alarm. "and did he not call the beaks, and have you up?" "no; he spoke to me; he spoke so kind-like. he told me that i was about a sin-- a great sin. nobody never spoke so to me afore!" again the boy's feelings seemed ready to burst forth. "and he took me to a baker's, and got me this; and to a shop, and bought me that; and says he, "has no one taught you to know right from wrong?" and says i, "nobody never taught me nothing!" then he takes me a good way round, down a little lane, right into a ragged school." "what's that?" inquired billy curiously. "a place where a great many poor boys were together in a big room, where there were wooden benches, and pictures and other things hung on the walls. i should never have dared to go in; but that good gemman took me, and led me right up to a man who was standing with a row of little chaps afore him. and the gemman put his hand on my shoulder, and spoke for me, and said a many things that i can't remember; but one thing i remember quite well: "you come here every evening," says he, "and you'll be taught your duty, and how to do it. i am leaving london soon; but i will be back in a few weeks, and i'll come and ask the master how you have been behaving; and if i find that you've been trying to become a better boy, i will not lose sight of you, my friend." "did the gemman say all that?" exclaimed billy. "and a great deal more. such beautiful talking! and to see how gentle and kind he looked, as if he didn't think me such a bad un after all!" "did you tell him of me?" asked billy anxiously. "yes; i told him that i had one little brother, and he was lame; and that mother was dead and father in jail, and that we had no one to care for us, and that we were often hungry, and always cold; and he looked quite sorry to hear it." "did he though?" cried billy, much surprised. "and will you go to the ragged school, bobby?" "won't i!" cried the boy, with a little more energy than i had seen in him before; "why, if i don't, i won't see that good gemman again!" "and won't you take me with you too?" said little billy. chapter vi. how i visited the zoological gardens. that night i set out with whiskerandos on more extended travels than any which i had yet attempted. oddity might have accompanied us, but he preferred, as he said, home comforts and a nibble in the warehouse. i knew that he would look after old furry, whose infirmities were sadly increasing upon him, so that i had no fear of the blind rat being neglected. i suspected that more than one reason induced my pie-bald brother to decline the tour. he had struck up an acquaintance with bright-eyes, a lively little rat, and probably found his society more agreeable than that of whiskerandos, of whom he always stood somewhat in awe. i shall not pause on the description of our underland journey through the wondrous labyrinth of passages which, like a net-work, spreads in every direction under the foundations of london. i saw more rats in these gloomy lanes than i had ever imagined existed in the world. i should have been afraid to have passed them, so fierce they looked, so ready to attack an intruder, had not whiskerandos been at my side. he neither provoked contests, nor feared them-- neither gave offence willingly, nor took it readily-- but had withal so resolute an air, that few would have been disposed to have quarrelled with him. i was heartily glad, however, when again we emerged into the light of day; and i was full of astonishment at the sight of green grass and trees, such as i had never beheld before. "ah!" said whiskerandos, smiling at my delight, "you should see this grass in the fresh spring, and those black bare trees when the bright young leaves are upon them. the branches of yonder row seem dropping their blossoms of gold; and how sweet is the scent of the hawthorn! but i would not have you pass through that iron paling to examine more closely the beauties of the garden; the square would be a charming place, no doubt, if it were not haunted by cats." i had never seen a cat in my life, but i started instinctively at the name. "take me anywhere," i exclaimed, "take me anywhere that you will, so that i never come in sight of one of those terrible creatures!" "i am going," said whiskerandos, "to take you where there are cats so huge that one could take a man's head in her mouth, or strike him dead by a blow of her paw!" "oh, for my shed! oh, for my quiet hole! for furry, and oddity, and my peaceable companions!" thought i. "what folly it was to venture into the world with such a guide as this desperado, whiskerandos!" i suppose that the bold rat read my thoughts in my frightened face, for he hastened to reassure my mind. "the big cats," said he, "some with long flowing manes, some spotted, some striped black and yellow, have no power to harm us. they are kept in barred cages by man, and spend their lives in wearisome captivity, denied even the solace of amusing themselves by catching a mouse for supper." it was the dawn of a winter's morning, when with my comrade i merrily made my way across the park. the grass was whitened with hoar-frost, which also glittered on the leafless boughs of the rows of trees which lined the long straight avenue. we entered the gardens without paying toll, or in any way obtruding ourselves on the notice of man. "see here!" exclaimed whiskerandos, half pettishly, as we passed a pond with a curious wire-fence all round it. "what a dainty breakfast we should make of some of the delicate young water-fowl, but for the extraordinary care which has been taken to shut us out! we can look in, to be sure, and see our prey, but the ducks do not even flutter, or move a wing, so secure are they that we cannot reach them!" the season being winter, we were unable to see many animals from tropical climes, whose health would have suffered from exposure to cold. i however regretted this but little. the white bear was shaking his shaggy coat, the wolf pacing uneasily up and down his den, birds pluming their feathers in the dull red light, while the monkeys' ceaseless jabber sounded from the walls of their prison. "whiskerandos," said i to my guide, "i care little for making acquaintance with cats, whether they be little or big; but if any foreigners of the race of mus be kept here, might i request you to introduce me to them?" whiskerandos pointed with his nose towards a building. "you will find relations there," he said, "some of the forty-six classes of our race, known by the family likeness in their teeth.* for me, i'm going to pay a visit to the monkeys' house; i'm sure there to find some provision, always a matter of importance to a rat. the door is shut, but i'll not trouble the keeper to open it for me!" so saying, with wonderful agility he began to climb the building, and soon vanished through a hole in the roof. food was to me a subject of at least as great importance as to whiskerandos. even my curiosity had to wait attendance on my appetite. i was fortunate, however, in discovering half a bun, which had probably been dropped by some child; and cheered and refreshed i proceeded to the building in which i was to make my affectionate search for distant relations. i carefully examined the walls, till i discovered a hole, probably made by some rat of the place, and through this i entered the house, and proceeded at once with eagerness to a small barred division, from whence a feeble squeak proceeded. [* i am not aware whether the zoological gardens at present contain specimens of the curious rats described in the following chapter.] chapter vii. finding relations. "well, this is at length such weather as a creature may live and breathe in! i've been half stifled all the autumn with the heat, but now the fresh keen air seems like a breeze from my own dear lapland!" "lapland! oh! there is nothing like lapland," said a very dolorous voice in reply. i lifted up my eyes to get a glimpse of the speaker. within the cage were two beautiful little lemmings, (i learnt their name afterwards as well as those of other inhabitants of the place.) they were not much more than half my size, had pointed heads, very short tails, and whiskers uncommonly long. their coats were black and tawny, but yellowish-white beneath. i heard subsequently that their race inhabit siberia, norway, and other cold climes, moving in large bodies like locusts, and like locusts eating up every thing green. but this pair, as was evident from their conversation, had been natives of a country called lapland. "oh for a sight of the icy lakes, the snow-covered plains and the reindeer moving lightly over them; while the rosy aurora borealis throws its bright streamers across the sky!" "and the strange little huts," rejoined the other, "made of briers, bark, felt, and reindeer skins, where, when we peeped under the curtains which made the door, we saw the tiny people, in their sheepskin doublets, sitting on their heels round the fire! i don't wonder that the lapps love their land; i don't wonder that when long exiled from it, they die of intense longing to return. that will be my fate, oh! that will be mine!" "allow an english rat, gentle strangers," said i, "to offer a little word of comfort. i grieve that you feel your captivity so much, that you so deeply mourn your absence from your dear native land. but is it not better to meet misfortune with courage, and bear it with patience? you are yet left the society of each other, you can yet talk over old days together, while the white bear growls in his prison alone, and the lofty camel has no companion near him." i was interrupted by some animal near dashing itself passionately against the bars of its cage, and, turning round, i beheld a very savage rat, which bore the name of the german hamster. his head was thick, blunt, and garnished with plenty of whiskers; he had big eyes, and large, open, rounded ears. his back and head were of a reddish-brown colour, his cheeks red, his feet white, and he had three odd white spots on each side of his chest. but the funniest thing which i noticed about him, (i was always an observant rat,) was that he had a claw on his forefeet in addition to four toes, which i had never before seen in the tribes of mus. "'tis easy to talk of comfort!" he exclaimed angrily, "when a rat has freedom and everything else that he cares for! but here-- why i have not even the comfort of going to sleep after the fashion of my country!" "not going to sleep!" i repeated in some surprise, thinking to myself that so peevish a creature must certainly be best in his sleep. "no; who can sleep on bare boards, or a poor sprinkling of straw!" he exclaimed, striking contemptuously the floor of his cage. "i who used to burrow deep in the earth, and enjoy a long nap all during the winter, shut up in my snug little home, i know what comfort is! there is nothing like lying some feet under the earth, as quiet as if one were dead, and know that there is a good magazine collected of grain, beans, and pease, to feast on when one awakes in the spring." "but at any rate here you are well fed," i suggested. the words, however kindly intended, had only the effect of increasing the hamster's passion to a shocking extent. to my amazement and horror he blew out his cheeks till the size of his head and neck exceeded that of his body. he raised himself on his hind legs, and but for the bars of his cage i believe that he would really have flown at me. "well fed!" he exclaimed, as soon as he could speak; "i should like to know what you call being well fed! since i have come to this hateful country, not once have i had an opportunity of filling my cheeks with grain. man, stingy man, thinks it enough to give me a wretched pittance from day to day,-- to me who have had a hundred pounds of corn packed up in my own deep hole,-- to me whose delight it was to carry three ounces weight of it at once in these bags with which nature has provided my face!" "most curious and convenient bags they are," said i, willing to appease him by a civil word, though i thought that thus puffed out with air, they anything but added to the beauty of his appearance. "they were the cause of my being taken," cried the fierce hamster, whose savage complaints had quite silenced the gentler murmurs of the pretty little lemmings, and had done more perhaps to make them submissive to their lot than anything which i could have said. "how were your pouches the cause of your being taken?" inquired i. "i can fight savagely-- i will fly even at dogs," replied the hamster (no one could have looked at him and have doubted it,) "but i cannot bite when my cheeks are stuffed full of grain, which was the case when a german peasant seized me; i had no time to empty them, not a moment, or wouldn't i have bitten him! oh, would not i have bitten him!" i felt so much disgusted at the words and manner of this most ferocious of rats, that i was glad to turn away from his cage; reflecting to myself how hideous and how hateful any creature is rendered by violent passion. a perfume, rather more powerful than agreeable, drew my attention towards a division occupied by a musk-rat, a native of canada. i saw within it a creature of the size of a small rabbit, quiet and staid in his demeanour, who welcomed me with a grave courtesy strangely in contrast to the rudeness of the hamster. "may i venture to look upon you as belonging to the race of mus?" i inquired, looking doubtingly at his large size, soft fur, and long flat tail. "well," he replied, good-humouredly, "some naturalists, and i believe the great linnæus amongst them, class me with the castor or beaver race, and dignify me with a very long and learned-sounding name, zibethicus. but i am quite content, for my part, to own my relationship to the race of mus, and to be known by the simple name musk-rat, which they give me on the lakes of canada." "i am delighted," said i, with a wave of my whiskers, "at this opportunity of paying my respects to so dignified a relation." "ah!" replied zibethicus, "i only wish that i could have received you in my own house upon the lake huron. if you could but have seen the pretty round dwelling raised by myself and my companions-- the neat dome-shaped roof which covered it, formed of herbs and reeds cemented with clay. so prettily it was stuccoed within! a great deal of trouble it cost us, to be sure, but i often think there's no pleasure without trouble; and there's nothing in my captivity which i miss so much as the power to labour and build." "may i ask," said i, "whether you be of the same family with the musk cavy, which i have heard of as inhabiting ceylon and other places in the east?" "i believe not," answered my courteous companion, "but we doubtless belong to the same race, however our habits and appearance may differ." our pleasant conversation was here unfortunately interrupted by the keeper's opening the door. i had barely time to hide myself under some straw, resolving not to show myself again till darkness should render it safe for me to creep out. soon various visitors arrived, and i was vastly amused by watching the different varieties of the human species, of which there must be nearly as many as of the race of mus. for the first time in my life i saw ladies all bedizened in velvets and silks, and the furry spoils of many an unfortunate ermine or sable. i saw gentlemen too, and i confess that a creeping uncomfortable feeling came over me when i looked at the hats which they had on their heads, the fine black gloss was so exceedingly like that of the coat which i wore. i have since learnt that my conjecture was but too close to the fact-- that numberless hapless rats are slaughtered in france on account of their fatal beauty; and that man not only manufactures their fur into hats, but uses their soft and delicate skins to make the thumbs of his best gloves. alas, for the race of mus! chapter viii. how i heard of old neighbours. in the afternoon a gentleman entered the building, whose noble and commanding appearance struck me. after a short examination of the captives in their cages, he sat down to rest himself nearly opposite the place where i was hidden. he was almost directly joined by a bright-haired boy, in whose cheeks health was glowing, and whose blue eyes sparkled with intelligence and enjoyment. "papa-- please-- i want more money to buy buns for the animals!" "my dear boy," replied the gentleman, in an expostulating tone, "you have had a whole dozen already; i do not think it right to spend more on pampering well-fed animals, when so many of our fellow-creatures are suffering from hunger." "oh, papa! do you think there are many?" "i believe that in this city of london alone there are thousands,-- yes, tens of thousands, who know not, when they rise in the morning, where they shall find a morsel of food during the day. i did not tell you what happened to me when i was in the city, neddy." "do tell me now," cried the boy, seating himself by his father, "while we rest a little quietly here." "i was walking along a narrow gloomy lane on my way to the shipping-office, when suddenly i felt a hand at my pocket. mine was instantly down upon it, and i captured a little thief who appeared to be about your own age." "the little rogue!" exclaimed neddy, indignantly. "and what did you do with him, papa? did you give him over to the police, or thrash him soundly with your stick?" "i grieved to see one so young already plunging into crime." "yes, that is the worst of it," said neddy. "if he is so bad as a boy, what will he be when he is a man! he will be sure to end on the gallows! i hope you punished him well, papa." i pricked up my ears on hearing this conversation; i could not help connecting it with what bob had told his lame little brother; i therefore listened with peculiar interest. not that, as a rat, i could understand the word _crime_, or know why human beings feel it wrong to seize anything that they want and can get. it was evident to me that they are governed by laws and principles quite incomprehensible to my race. for as man has no scruple in taking from rats their lives and their skins, so rats, on the other hand, have no manner of scruple in taking all they require from man. but to return to the gentleman and his son. "no, neddy, i did not punish the child," replied the former gravely. "i looked at his meagre form clothed in rags, his wasted countenance prematurely old in its expression of sorrow and care, his hollow eyes, his sunken cheeks,-- and i thought of you, my son!" the gentleman added, with a sigh. "well," said neddy, "i hope there's a precious deal of difference between me and a beggarly thief!" "what has made that difference?" said the gentleman, laying his hand on the shoulder of his beautiful boy. "i questioned that unhappy child. i found him ignorant of the first principles of virtue. his mother is dead, his father in jail; if he has learnt anything from those around him it is only a knowledge of vice. pinched by hunger, homeless, friendless, ignorant even that he has a soul, it would be a miracle indeed if he followed the straight path of which he has not so much as heard! what can we expect him to be but a thief,-- what would you have been in his place?" neddy looked thoughtful and was silent. then raising his blue eyes to his father's face he said, "and what did you do to the boy?" "i first tried to relieve a little his pressing bodily wants; to take from him, at least for one day, the temptation to commit a theft. but i knew that the temptation would recur again, and as long as he continued in blind ignorance, there could be small hope that he would even wish to resist it. i remembered that my watchmaker had given me the direction of a ragged school at which his daughter taught; spending her time and energies as so many do now, in this noblest labour of love. this school was not very far off, and i resolved to take this opportunity of paying it a long-intended visit. i took the poor little fellow with me, and spoke to the superintendent, who readily agreed to receive him. he will there learn some way to earn his bread honestly; he will be taught to know right from wrong; he will hear, perhaps for the first time, the voice of kindness; and he may yet live to be respectable, useful, and happy." "oh! papa, do you think that after once being a thief he is ever likely to turn out good for anything!" "the experiment has been tried over and over again, neddy, and many times it has been mercifully attended with success. the idle _have_ become industrious, the thieves honest, the vicious been reclaimed, the lost found and saved! i will tell you a striking occurrence which really took place in a reformatory for thieves. not one of the inmates there but had broken the laws of his country, and committed the crime of theft. but mercy was giving them a chance to redeem the characters which they had lost, and they were learning various trades, by which to support themselves in honest independence. a subscription, as you may remember, was raised at the time of the war with russia, to help the widows and orphans of our gallant soldiers. from the sovereign on her throne, to the labourer in the field, from rich and poor, high and low, contributions to the patriotic fund poured in. "the thieves in the reformatory heard of the subscription; they longed to aid it, but what could they do? they had no money, they owed their very bread to charity, for they had not yet acquired sufficient skill in the trades which they were learning, to pay even their necessary expenses." "they could not give what they had not got, papa, if they wished to be generous ever so much." "where there is a will there is a way, neddy. these poor fellows were so anxious to help the widow and the orphan, that they asked and obtained leave to go a whole day without food, that the money so saved upon them might be paid into the patriotic fund." "and did they really starve a whole day?-- have neither breakfast, nor dinner, nor supper,-- and all go hungry to bed?" "they did, neddy, _all_ the thieves in that reformatory* did; and i doubt if amongst the hundreds of thousands of subscriptions to the patriotic fund, any showed so much real generosity and self-denial as the contribution of the reformed thieves!" "oh! there was hope for such men indeed!" exclaimed neddy, the moisture rising into his eyes. "there must have been good in them, papa, and i should not wonder if some of them turned out really fine fellows." "i have no doubt of it," said his father with a smile. "and that poor boy-- yes, i hope that he may amend. shall we hear anything more of him, papa?" "you know that we go out of town to-morrow. on my return i shall make inquiries regarding him at the ragged school, and if i find that he is improving under the instruction which he will receive, i shall try to do something for him." "may i go with you?" said neddy eagerly, "i should like to visit the school." "i think that i shall take you with me," replied his father. "what a glorious thing it is," exclaimed the boy after a pause, "to raise ragged schools and reformatories, to give the poor, the ignorant, and the wicked, a chance of becoming honest and happy! how i should like to build one myself!" "it would be more practicable for you," observed the gentleman, smiling as he rose from his seat, "to support those which are built already."** "but, papa, i can do so little!" "every little helps, my son; the vast ocean is made up of drops. you may do something yourself, and try to interest others in the cause of the desolate poor. were all the children of the middle classes in england to give each but one penny a-week, no wretched boy need wander about desolate in london, to perish both here and hereafter because no one cared for his soul!" [* the reformatory in great smith street, westminster.] [** the office of the "ragged school union" is at exeter hall, london. by this admirable society twenty-two thousand poor children have received instruction during the past year, while five hundred of the most destitute have been provided with homes in refuges and reformatories. to show the habits of prudence inculcated in the schools, it is only necessary to state that in the same year ragged scholars placed in saving-banks a sum of no less than three thousand four hundred and thirty-nine pounds! seventy of those who now teach in the schools, were once ragged scholars themselves, thus imparting to others the benefits which they had received when poor ignorant children. but the funds of the society are by no means sufficient for the work before it, though many of its teachers are unpaid, seeking no reward upon earth. there are numbers of ragged children in london, as desolate as those whom i have described, who have never known the blessing of a ragged school, and who, if they implored the shelter of a refuge, must implore in vain, for they would find no room.] chapter ix. how we found a feast. i remained in the zoological gardens for a few weeks, improving my acquaintance with the mild zibethicus and the gentle lemmings. as for the german hamster, he became so drowsy as the weather grew colder, that it became evident that he could sleep day and night upon boards, though he never fell into the perfectly torpid, almost dead state that he would have done, could he have been humoured by being buried alive. i should willingly have remained longer in the gardens, but the keepers were taking such stringent measures to get rid of rats, that we thought it better to remove on our own four feet while we could, instead of being carried in a bag, a kind of conveyance for which we had no fancy. we therefore set out on our journey homewards. we again chose the underland route, lest we should meet with dogs and cats in the streets, or be crushed beneath rolling wheels. we had not gone far, however, when whiskerandos suddenly stopped. "i feel hungry," said he. "so do i," rejoined i. "we must find our way into one of the houses," observed the bold rat; "let's turn down this passage, it doubtless leads to some kitchen." down the passage we accordingly turned, whiskerandos, as usual, going first; but we were met, almost at the entrance, by two savage brown rats, who did not seem disposed to allow us to pass. "pray, does this passage lead to a kitchen?" said whiskerandos, not appearing to notice their sharp teeth and gleaming eyes. "yes," replied one; "but the passage, and the house, and the kitchen, belong to us, and we let no one share in our rights." "any one who attempts to pass," cried the other, very fiercely, "has to pay us toll with his ears!" "well, my good friends," replied whiskerandos, "notwithstanding the darkness i have no doubt but that your bright eyes have observed that i have paid that toll already, and that is a kind of toll which no one is expected to pay twice." the brown rats looked at the warrior with keen, wondering gaze, while whiskerandos calmly continued, "i lost my ears in single combat with a ferret; he who exacted the toll lost his life in exchange, and i feel somehow persuaded that you will rather politely guide me into your house and share with me whatever i get there, than try the experiment whether a rat can fight as well without ears as he once did with them." this little speech had a most wonderful effect in subduing all unfriendly and inhospitable feelings on the part of the brown rats towards the valiant whiskerandos. they, however, looked very suspiciously at me, and i fancied that i heard one whisper to the other, "there's a black rat-- an intruder-- an enemy-- we must tear him in pieces!" i felt uncommonly uncomfortable, and much inclined to turn round and scamper for my life; but whiskerandos soon ended the difficulty. "let me introduce to you my friend ratto," said he, "my very particular friend, who goes where i go, shares what i find, and whose safety i value as my own." nothing more was said about tearing me in pieces, so we all proceeded amicably on our way, till the brown rats led us through a small hole, and we found ourselves in a large, airy kitchen. the place was perfectly quiet; the loud ticking of the clock was the only sound heard, the swing of its pendulum the only motion seen, except that a few black beetles were creeping on the sanded floor. the fire, which must have been a very large one, had almost burnt out; but a few red embers still were glowing, and served to light us on our way, though, as i have mentioned before, light seems unnecessary to rats. we peeped about, under the dresser, on the shelves, and snuffed at the locked door of the larder, but nothing could we discover fit for food. a jar on a shelf looked tempting enough, but being made, cover and all, of crockery ware, it defied even our sharp little teeth. "i've made a discovery!" exclaimed i at last, and at my shout the three other rats came eagerly running towards the place where i stood rejoicing by a flask of oil. "i've seen that flask a dozen times," exclaimed one of the brownies, in a tone of angry disappointment; "i have longed to taste its contents, but how is a rat to get at them?" here was a puzzler indeed. but whiskerandos was ever ready at expedients. with neat dexterity he extracted the stopper; but here the difficulty did not end, for the neck of the bottle was too narrow by far to admit the head of a rat; and the position of the flask, in a wooden box, rendered it impossible to alter its position so as to pour out its contents. "mighty little use that flask is to us!" exclaimed one of the brownies, impatiently. but my clever rat was not easily discouraged in a moment he had dipped in his long tail, and then whisking it out again, scattered around a fragrant shower of oil! there was no end to the praises and commendations which whiskerandos received for this simple device. he took little notice of them, however, and only playfully observed, "it is ratto who should have thought of this, since nature has furnished black rats with two hundred and fifty distinct rings in their tails, while brown ones have only two hundred." "ah, whiskerandos!" exclaimed i, "this oil is a nice relish to be sure, but my appetite craves something solid;" and i looked piteously up at the jar. the other rats looked up piteously also. "let us see what we can do!" cried my spirited companion; and he clambered for the second time up on the shelf on which stood the tantalizing jar. this time he did not even attempt to nibble at the hard polished crockery, he wasted not his energies in any such fruitless endeavour; but, putting his mighty strength to the task, he pushed the whole jar nearer and nearer to the edge of the shelf, then over it, till at length it fell with a tremendous crash which made every one of us leap up high into the air with amazement! we might have leapt for joy also, for from the broken crockery what a feast of delicious dried fruits rolled forth! with what glee we set to our supper, while whiskerandos sprang from his shelf, too eager to partake of the tempting repast to take the slower method of climbing. i must confess that of all pleasures upon earth there is none to a rat like eating; if such be the case with any of the lords of creation, why i can only say that they must be content to be reckoned like rats. we were in the midst of our feast, our mouths full, and our whiskers merrily wagging, when we were startled by a faint noise at the kitchen door. a stealthy sound, as of human feet moving slowly and cautiously along; a timid hand laid softly on the handle of the door; and then a whispering murmur of voices. we pricked up our ears and stopped eating. "i am sure that the noise came from the kitchen;-- listen!" said a timorous voice. so those without listened, and so did we within, when the clock suddenly striking one, made us all start, and so frightened the brownies, that off they scampered into their hole. whiskerandos and i retreated some steps, and then remained in an attitude of attention, while again the whispering began. "would it not be safer to call in a policeman?" "no, no,-- my blunderbuss is loaded, and the villains cannot escape. you are nervous-- go back, eliza." "dearest-- i'll never leave you to meet the danger alone!" the handle creaked as it was slowly turned round, and whiskerandos exclaiming, "we'd better be off!" followed the example of the brownies. strong curiosity made me linger for a moment, as the door was opened inch by inch, and i had a glimpse of what to this day i cannot remember without laughing. one of the lords of the creation slowly advanced through it, robed in a long red dressing-gown, a candle in one hand, a loaded blunderbuss in the other, and with a most ludicrous expression on his pallid face, as though he were making up his mind to kill somebody, but was a little afraid that somebody might kill him instead! his wife, looking ghastly in her curl-papers with her eyes and mouth wide open in fright, was trying to pull him back, and was evidently terrified to glance round the kitchen, lest some midnight robber should meet her gaze. away i scudded, my sides shaking with mirth, leaving the broken jar and the scattered fruits to tell their own tale, and wondering with what stories of midnight alarms the valiant husband and his devoted spouse would amuse their family in the morning. chapter x. the want of a dentist. i was glad to see oddity's kind ugly face again in our native shed. how much i had to tell him! how much older i now felt than one who had never wandered a hundred yards from his home! who knows not the pleasure of returning even after a brief absence, full of information, eager to impart it, and sure of a ready and attentive listener? i talked over my adventures to my brother, till any patience but his would have been exhausted; but he was the most patient of rats, quite willing to have all his adventures second-hand, without the slightest wish to become a hero, but ready, without a particle of envy, to admire the exploits of others. "and how is old furry?" i asked, when at length i came to the end of my narration. furry had now taken up his quarters in the warehouse, but sometimes visited our shed. oddity looked very grave. "you know," replied he, "that poor furry had the misfortune some time ago to lose one of his upper front teeth." "i know it; he struck it out when gnawing at the hoop of a barrel. but i do not see that the misfortune is great; old furry has other teeth left." "_that_ is his misfortune," added oddity. "how?-- what do you mean?-- what does he complain of,-- losing his teeth or keeping them?" "both," said oddity. i should have thought him joking, but oddity was never guilty of a joke in his life. "you see," he continued, observing my look of surprise, "that gnawing is necessary to us rats, to keep down the quick growth of our teeth. if they are not constantly rubbing one against another, they soon get a great deal too long for our mouths. as poor old furry's upper tooth is gone, of course the one just under it is now out of work, and having nothing else to do, is growing at such a pace, that it is actually forming a circle in his mouth!" "you don't say so!" i exclaimed "i have often noticed the strange length of that tooth, but i had no notion of the extent of the evil." "it has much increased since you left us," sighed oddity, "and where it will end i really don't know. the poor fellow is blind, he had no pleasure but in nibbling and chatting, and now his dreadful long tooth is actually locking his jaw." "shall i go to see him?" said i. "do as you please," replied oddity. "there is little pleasure in seeing him now, poor fellow." and so i found when i went. poor old furry's misfortune had by no means sweetened his temper. he was ready to bite any one who approached him, only biting was now out of the question. he could hardly manage to swallow a little meal which oddity had procured, and certainly took it without a sign of gratitude. one would have thought, by his manner towards the piebald rat, that it was he who had knocked out the unlucky front tooth, instead of having kindly attended to furry's wants for so long, and borne with his temper, which was harder. but oddity was, without a doubt, the most patient and steady of rats. while bright-eyes, full of fun, made many a joke at the expense of the blind, crabbed old rat, who had been so fond of talking, and now could scarcely utter a squeak-- of eating, and now could not nibble a nut,-- oddity never thought the sufferings of another the subject for a smile, or the peevishness and infirmities of age any theme for the ridicule of the young. he had been often laughed at himself; that was perhaps the reason why he never gave the same pain to others. i was really glad to escape back to my shed from the atmosphere of a peevish temper. i was accompanied to it by oddity. "and now, dear old rat," said i, when we were alone, "how go on our little ragged friends? what has become of bob and billy?" "they still live, or rather starve, in the old shed," said he; "but now they go out each day together. i expect them here every minute." "so then they are as poor as ever?" inquired i. "i have heard something of occasional treats of warm soup at the school, but i don't think that they get anything certain. i suppose that now and then, when some good folk sit down to a comfortable meal, beside a roaring fire, they just happen to remember that seventy or eighty half-famished children are gathered together in a street near, and send them a welcome supply. but both bob and billy have hope now, if they have nothing else; they expect soon to be able to do something for themselves, and to be helped on by the kind friends whom they have found at the school." "has bob brought home any more red handkerchiefs with white spots?" inquired i. "not a rag of one," answered my companion; "but he brings back something which puzzles my brain-- something white, with black marks upon it. he and little billy sit poring over it by the hour. they don't eat it, they don't smell it, they don't wear it: i can't make out that it is of any use to them at all; and yet they seem as much pleased, as they study it together, as if it were a piece of dutch cheese!" "what are these odd things scattered about the shed?" said i; "i don't remember seeing them before." "ah! i forgot to say the little one is beginning to make baskets, and neat fingers he has about it: it seems quite a pleasure to the child. the very talk of the boys is growing different now; the elder--" he stopped at the sound of a distant cough, which became more distressing every minute, till our two poor boys entered the shed, and bob sank wearily down on the floor. "oh! that cough, how it shakes you!" cried billy. "never mind, 'twill be over soon," gasped his brother. i was so much surprised at the change in the boys' appearance, that at first i could hardly believe my eyes. they both looked much whiter than i had seen them before; their hair was cut closer, and brushed to one side, instead of hanging right over their eyes. neither of the brothers was in rags; the old worn clothes indeed were still there, but neatly patched and mended; some one had given bob a pair of old shoes, but it was billy who wore the warm cloak. "his brother always makes him wear it," whispered oddity, "except at night, and then it covers them both." "now you must have it, bob; isn't it comfy?" said the lame child, pressing the cloak round his brother, whose violent cough for the moment prevented his reply, and brought a bright colour to his cheek, which i never had seen there before. "i'll creep very close to you, bobby, and then we'll both have it, you know. there! are you better now?" he said, softly, laying his thin cheek against that of his brother. "i don't think i'll ever get better here." the boy shivered and closed his eyes as he spoke. "oh, bob! bob!" cried the child, in accents of fear, "you're not a-going to be ill like mother; you're not a-going to-- die, and leave me!" there was something very gentle in the tone, and sweet in the uplift eye, of the poor destitute boy, as he replied, "i can't say if i'm a-going to die, billy; but don't you mind what miss mary told us about dying? i used to be afeared when i thought on it, but now-- i think i could die and be happy!" "but you must not-- you shall not go and leave me! oh! what should i do without you?" cried billy, bursting into tears. chapter xi. a removal. a manly voice was heard on the outside, speaking to a porter who was passing at the moment. "can you tell me, pray, whether two boys of the name of parton live near this place? from the direction which was given me, i think that we must be near their dwelling." "parton?-- well," began the porter, in a doubtful voice; but little billy was up in a moment: "yes, here they are! here's where we live!" shouted he, and the next minute the shed was entered by the gentleman and his son whom i had seen at the zoological gardens. the father almost started as he glanced round the miserable place, and the look of pity on his face deepened into one of pain, while neddy appeared even more shocked. he had, i suspect, known little of poverty, but by hearsay; and the bare, terrible reality took him by surprise. bob had risen from the heap of dirty rubbish which served him for a bed. his thin cheek glowed with a bright flush of pleasure as he recognised his benefactor. "is it possible that you live here?-- sleep here?" exclaimed the gentleman; "exposed in this wretched shed, without a fire, to all the severity of winter?" bob attempted to speak, but was stopped by his cough. billy, who was at all times more talkative and ready to reply, answered, "yes, we lives here, and sleeps here too, when the cold don't keep us awake!" "and does no one ever come to visit you?" "no one but the rats!" replied the child. "the rats!" exclaimed neddy, with a gesture of horror and disgust, which irritated my vanity not a little. oddity had none, so he looked tranquil as usual. "oh, papa!" cried neddy, "they must not stay here; this horrible hole is only fit for rats!" his father was bending over bob, feeling his wrist, asking him questions regarding his health, with a gentle kindness which goes farther to win confidence and affection than the cold bestowal of the greatest benefits. "you are not well; you must be cared for, my boy. i think that i could manage to get you into an hospital; you would have every comfort there." "please, sir," began bob, and stopped; he looked at his brother, and then raised his earnest eyes to the face of his new friend, and gathering courage from the kind glance which he met, faltered forth, "please, sir, would they take billy too?" the gentleman shook his head. "then-- please, sir, i'd a much rather stay here: we han't never been parted, billy and me." i saw neddy eagerly draw his father aside, very near to my hiding-place behind the canvass, so that i could hear some of his words, though they were only spoken in a whisper. "could we not get a lodging?-- see here!" he pulled something out of his pocket, and spoke still lower; but i caught a sentence here and there: "my christmas-box, and what aunt gave me, would it be enough?" his voice was very earnest indeed. i saw something which reminded me of sunshine steal over the father's face as he looked down on his blue-eyed boy. then he replied in a quiet tone, "yes, enough to provide one till warmer weather comes. i would myself see that food and needful comforts were not wanting." "and, papa, i have an old suit of clothes; that poor boy is dying with cold;-- just see, his jacket will hardly hold together. might i give him my old suit, papa?" i read assent in the gentleman's smile; then, turning to the poor motherless children, he told them that he could not leave them one night longer in that miserable place; that he would take them at once to the dwelling of an honest widow whom he knew, who would watch over the sick, and take care of the young, for she herself had once been a mother. poor bob, weakened and exhausted by poor living, looked bewildered at the words, as though he scarcely understood them, but was ready, without question or hesitation, to go wherever his benefactor should guide him. one only doubt seemed to linger on his mind. "shall i," said he, in a hesitating tone, "shall i still be able to go to my school?-- 'cause i shouldn't like to be a-leaving it now!" "assuredly you shall attend it, my boy, as soon as your health will permit. i have no means of permanently assisting you; my stay in england is but short; i can only give you help for a time. but at the school you will learn to help yourself, and soon, i hope, be independent of any human aid. i should do you an injury, and not a kindness, were i to teach you to rest on others for those means of living which a brave and honest boy desires to earn for himself. now let us go on to the comfortable lodging which i mentioned." billy uttered an exclamation of childish delight, as though the word had called up before his mind's eye a warm hearth, a blazing fire, and smoking viands on a table beside him. they all now quitted the place, neddy appearing if possible more happy than the delighted little child. but billy was the last to leave the shed, in which he had passed so many days of suffering and want. he lingered for a moment at the door, and looked back with a pensive expression. "you never wish to see that place again, i am sure?" cried neddy. "no, not the place; but-- but i should ha' just liked a last peep of the pretty spotted rat who used to lead the old blind un by the stick!" chapter xii. a new road to fame. it may have been but my fancy,-- it probably was so,-- but it seemed to me that oddity felt a good deal the departure of his little human friend. i thought that he missed the lame child who had taken such pleasure in watching him, and who had found beauties even in his ungainly figure and piebald skin. it certainly was not that he needed the crumbs which the half-starved little billy had stinted himself to throw to him; but i suppose that it is possible even for rats to grow attached to such as show them confidence and kindness. i often rallied poor oddity upon his melancholy after the boys had been taken away. bright-eyes told him that he ought to have been a cat, to sit purring on a mat before the fire, and lick the hand of some old maiden lady, who would feed him with porridge and milk. i said that he should be kept in a gentleman's house, with a bell round his neck, as rats sometimes are in germany, to frighten their brethren away. oddity took all our taunts very quietly, nibbled his dinner in the warehouse, but spent most of his time in the shed; where, as he snuffed along the ground, and fumbled amongst the chipping and the straw, we used to say that he was searching for little lame billy, whom he never would see any more. winter at length passed away. down the roof of the shed, and through the hole in it, ran little streams of water from the melted snow. the west wind blew softly, bending the columns of smoke from the tall chimneys on shore, and the black funnels of the steamers that went snorting and puffing down the river. on one of the first mild days we found poor old furry dead in the warehouse. life had long been a burden to him, which his unhappy temper rendered yet more galling. i have heard that the rats of newfoundland bury their comrades when they die, laying the bodies neatly one beside another, head and heels placed alternately together. i do not know whether this be true: it is not the custom of rats in england. we therefore left old furry where he lay, close behind a barrel of salt meat, where he was discovered the next day by one of the men of the warehouse. now, if there be one thing which men usually think more worthless lumber than another, it is the body of a dead rat. our skins are not in england collected and valued as they are in france; the only thought is usually how to get rid of the unpleasant presence of the dead creature. and yet, strange to say, the porter did not throw away the body of poor old furry: he carried it off to his master. i was very curious indeed to know its fate; and, after many fruitless inquiries, at length i discovered it. the tooth which had been furry's torment in life, was destined to make him famous after death. learned men-- i know not how many-- examined the head of the rat, looked, wondered, consulted together; and the end of the matter was, that it was placed as a great curiosity in some building which is called a museum. there, amidst fine vases and ancient weapons, old manuscripts and precious stones, and noble busts of the wise and great, is the head of poor old furry preserved, with the mouth wide open, to display the extraordinary tooth! fame is a strange thing, after all. i believe that our friend the rat was not the first, nor will be the last, to pay a heavy price for the bubble! early in spring, one sunny morn, i received a visit from my old comrade whiskerandos. he was full of life and spirits. "ratto," cried he, "i have often heard you say that you and i should visit foreign countries together; we've a capital opportunity now. a vessel is to weigh anchor to-morrow. i have been talking to a ship-rat of my acquaintance, who intends to sail in her, as he has done so before. he says that she is a capital old vessel, full of first-rate accommodation for rats; that captain blake keeps a very good table; that there is never any scarcity of pickings; and, in short, i am off for st. petersburg, and mean to embark to-night: just say that you will go with me." "i'm your rat!" i exclaimed, highly delighted. "would there be room for oddity too?" "i daresay that there is plenty of room; but-- well, well, oddity's an excellent old fellow in spite of his ugly skin; and i'll take care that nobody insults him." off i scampered to oddity, half out of breath with excitement; and giving him the news which i had just received, i begged him to accompany whiskerandos and myself on a pleasure excursion to russia. the piebald one bluntly declined. "now this is nonsense, oddity," cried i; "you must not stay moping here any longer, pining after a child, and watching for his return, when he is never likely to come back." "i know he will not come back!" sighed oddity. "then why don't you come and shake off this silly gloom? to tell you the plain truth, oddity, your mind really requires opening, and there is nothing like travelling for that. you are, i am afraid, not a well-informed quadruped. i insist upon your embarking with us to-night, and we'll make a rat of you, my good fellow!" oddity shook his head. "what! you are resolved not to travel?" "not by water," was his short reply. "he is going into the country with me," cried bright-eyes, springing with a few light bounds to my side. "we're going to my birth-place, near the sea-side. we will feast amongst the young corn there; and when the pea-blossom has faded, and the ripe pods hang temptingly down, we'll climb up the stalks and shell them, and banquet on the sweet green seeds! we'll revel in the strawberry beds, and try which peach is the ripest! oh! merry lives lead the rats in a kitchen-garden, beneath the bright sun of summer!" "i've half a mind to go with you myself," said i, charmed with the rural description. but i remembered my engagement with whiskerandos, and repressed the rising longing to feast upon english fruits, whose names sounded so tempting. "then farewell, oddity," cried i; "i fear i shall never meet you again." "i'll come back to the old shed in winter," said he. "but i-- ah! where shall i be then? how do i know, once crossing the sea, whether i shall ever be able to return?" i had not the faintest idea where russia might be, or what sort of a place i should find it; whether its rats are black, brown, or white, fierce as the hamster, or gentle as zibethicus. a feeling of misgiving came suddenly over me; one fear above all others depressed my heart, and unconsciously i uttered it aloud: "i wonder whether in russia rats find plenty to eat!" the snub face of oddity grew very grave at a question which he could not answer, and whose importance he felt. but light-hearted bright-eyes quickly relieved our apprehensions. "if we are to judge of what is in russia by what comes from it," he cried, "i should say that you have little to fear. i examined the cargo of a russian ship once, and never did i see a finer collection of everything that could charm a rat. i say nothing of the furs,-- skins of all kinds of creatures, sables, black and white foxes, ermines, lynxes, hyænas, bears, panthers, wolves, martens, white hares--" "stop, stop!" i exclaimed, "we do not want any furs beyond those with which nature has adorned us." "there was copper, iron, talc, (a mineral resembling glass--)" "we don't care about them; no rat ever lived upon minerals." "linen, flax, hemp, feathers--" "if there is nothing more nutritious to be had in russia, why i'd rather stay at home," cried i, with a little vexation. "what do you say, then, to oil, both linseed and train-oil? to delicious honey, corn without end, soap, isinglass, and, to crown the whole, hogsheads upon hogsheads of-- tallow!" "enough, enough!" i exclaimed with delight, "russia is the country for me." chapter xiii. how i set out on my voyage. when the passengers of the nautilus went on board, the bright sun was glittering on the water, the whole river was full of life, covered with vessels of all kinds,-- the light boat, the lugger, the steamer, with her gaily-coloured paddle-boxes and long dark stream of smoke; the heavy coal-barge, scarcely moving at all, sunk down almost to a level with the water: and there were sounds of all sorts, both from the vessels and the shore-- puffing of steam, dipping of oars, creaking of rigging, ringing of bells, shouts and calls, and the sailors' musical "yo, heave, yo!" but when we went on board a few hours before, all was comparatively quiet, though the great pulse of life in london never quite ceases to be heard, even in the middle of the night. when we crept down to the edge of the shore, the yellow lamps were gleaming around, and the quiet stars twinkling above, and the young moon was looking down at her own image dimly reflected in the river. "where is our vessel?" whispered i to whiskerandos. "yonder; don't you see her black hull?" "but how are we to get to her?" said i. nervously; "i have no great mind to swim." "do you mark that dark line that cuts the sky? that is the rope which fastens her to shore. we will make our way easily along that." i had a tolerably intimate acquaintance with ropes, and the feat was not a difficult one for a rat; and yet-- shall i confess it?-- my heart quaked a little as i followed my leader across this trembling suspension bridge. i was, however, always unwilling to show fear in the presence of whiskerandos, so i concealed even the relief which i felt when i reached the vessel without a ducking. it was indeed a delightful home for rats, and many of my race had thought so, for the number of us on board certainly trebled that of the sailors. the majority of our brethren in the vessel were ship rats, whose appearance so much resembled my own that terms of friendship were at once established between us. the brown rats kept together in quite a separate part of the ship,-- a wise precaution to avoid the quarrels and fights which must otherwise have constantly ensued. i consequently saw less of whiskerandos during the voyage than i otherwise should have done. i managed to establish myself, audacious rat that i was, in captain blake's own cabin. i knew that it was a spot of danger,-- that much skill and caution would be required to avoid detection; but i employed myself industriously in enlarging a small hole, till i had secured for myself a passage for escape in case i should be discovered, and also the means of free communication with the other parts of the ship. i need not describe the cabin more than by saying that it appeared to be a very snug little place. it held both a swinging-cot and a hammock; and i examined with great curiosity these and other articles of furniture, as this was the first opportunity which i had had of observing how man makes himself comfortable. assuredly his wants are not so few nor his requirements so simple as ours. early in the day the captain came on board with his son, and after he had given sundry orders on deck, they both descended to the cabin. imagine my surprise when, on their entrance, i recognised my old acquaintance of the zoological gardens, the blue-eyed boy and his father! i instinctively looked, though in vain, to see if they were followed by billy and bob. soon afterwards the anchor was weighed, and the vessel began to move. it was to me a strange and new sensation. i had never before experienced any motion but that of my own little feet. towards evening the motion grew stronger. the vessel heaved up and down, rocked to and fro; the creaking sounds above grew louder, and were mingled with a constant splashing noise. neddy, who had been very merry and active all day, now on deck, now in the cabin, asking questions, and examining everything upon which he could lay his hands, appeared now quite heavy and dull. he complained of headache, and lay down in his hammock. i thought that the boy was ill. however, he was lively as ever in the morning. our sea life was rather a same one, after the first excitement of starting was over. neddy spent some hours every day in the cabin, poring over things which i found were called books. i could not at first comprehend why, when his eyes were fixed on the pages which to me seemed exactly alike, he should sometimes look grave, sometimes merry, and sometimes laugh outright, as though some one were talking with him out of the book. when, however, his father read aloud to the boy, or he read aloud to his father, i could imagine why they were amused, though i never could find out by what means the book could make itself heard. i have often snuffed round the volumes, and even touched them with my whiskers, but they seemed to me dead as clay. it must be some wonderful talent, possessed only by man, which enables him to hear any voice from them. there was one large volume in particular, which captain blake called "shakespeare," from which he sometimes read extracts to his son. i heard him say once that this very shakespeare had been dead for more than two hundred years. is it not marvellous that his thoughts, preserved in leaves of paper in some manner inexplicable to a rat, should survive himself so long,-- that he should make others both laugh and weep when he himself laughs and weeps no more? as may be supposed, i took no great interest in the reading until my ear was caught one evening by an allusion to my own race in shakespeare, "rats, and mice, and such small deer." we had then a place in the wondrous volume; this made me all attention, and more than once that attention was rewarded by hearing of the race of mus. one mention both surprised and puzzled me. the rhyme still rests on my memory: "but in a sieve i'll thither sail, and like a rat without a tail, i'll do-- i'll do-- i'll do!" the _do_, of course, represents _nibble, nibble, nibble_; but the rat without a tail is of some species of which i had never before heard, and have certainly never met with. when neddy read to his father, it was from a different book; he called it "history of the french revolution." it might have been a history of my race, for it seemed to be all about rats: democ-rats and aristoc-rats; "doubtless," thought i, "tribes peculiar to france." most savage fellows the first seemed to have been-- to our race what tigers are to cats, still more powerful, bloody, and destructive. i, like others who jump at conclusions, and do not understand half of what they hear, had made a ridiculous mistake. my vanity had led me to over-estimate the importance of my family; but a conversation between neddy and his father undeceived me, and made me a sadder and a wiser rat. _neddy._-- "well, papa, i fancy that we shall have a great deal to see at st. petersburg-- palaces, churches, gardens, all sorts of sights! but what i most want to see is the czar himself, the great autoc-rat of all the russias." i gave such a start at this, that i dreaded for a moment that i had betrayed my hiding-place. here was another rat, and one so singular and so great, that he was thought more worthy to be seen than all st. petersburg besides! i really felt my whole frame swelling with pride; every hair in my whiskers quivered! "is he really so powerful, papa, as people say that he is?" "very powerful indeed, my boy." "and he's despotic, is he not? he has no parliament?" "no parliament!" i repeated to myself; "well, that's no great matter in a country so abounding with other good things! but what a rat of rats this must be, to be so spoken of and thought of by the lords of creation!" "it must be a fine thing to be an autoc-rat, papa, and have no law but one's own will!" "it is a giddy elevation, neddy, which no truly wise man, conscious of human infirmity, would ever covet to attain." "wise man! human infirmity!" exclaimed i. these few words, like a touch to a bubble, had burst my high-blown ideas of family dignity. it was a man, then, one of human race, who chose to add rat to his name; and these democ-rats and aristoc-rats in france-- why, they must be men too, nothing but men, after all! chapter xiv. a terrible word. when i met my old friend whiskerandos, it was usually at night, as moving about by day was dangerous; for who ever showed mercy to a rat, or even thought of inquiring whether he possessed qualities which might render him deserving of it? "how do you like your quarters?" said whiskerandos to me one starry night, when all was still upon deck, and, save one sailor on the watch, all of humankind were sleeping. "they please me well enough," i replied. "for my part," said whiskerandos, "i shall be heartily glad when our voyage is over; and i am half vexed that i ever led you to make it." "why so? we do not fare ill; we have plenty to eat." as i have mentioned before, this is ever the first consideration with a rat. "the sailors don't starve," said whiskerandos more slowly; "yet they think of adding another dish to their mess." "glad to hear it," said i; "you know that i am curious about dishes, and should like to have my whiskers in a new one." "oh! but they won't be contented with your whiskers!" cried my friend, with a funny, forced laugh. "what do you mean?" said i quickly. "well, i heard jack and tom, two of the sailors, talking together to-day down in the hold; and there was one word of their conversation which, i own, struck me like the paw of a cat. that word was--" "what was it?" cried i nervously; for if a hero like whiskerandos felt anything approaching to fear, i might be expected to be half-dead with fright. he drooped his head for a moment, and uttered one word-- "_rat-pies!_" i started as though i had seen a tabby pounce down from the rigging! "'tis impossible!" i faintly exclaimed; "human beings never, never eat rats!" "oh! i beg your pardon!" replied whiskerandos, regaining his usual brisk manner; "don't you remember old furry telling us that his reason for quitting china was, that he was afraid of being dished up for the dinner of some mighty mandarin, whose hair hung in a long tail behind him? amongst the lowest classes in france, and the gypsies in england, we poor rats are known as an article of food; and i have heard that in the islands of the south seas we were held in so much esteem, that 'sweet as a rat' passed as a proverb." "i don't like such compliments!" exclaimed i, beginning to tremble all over. "come, ratto, you must pluck up a little courage, and show yourself worthy of the race of mus! there is never any use in meeting misfortune half way. to be caught, killed, and put into a pie, is, i grant it, a serious evil; to be always afraid of being so is another. the first we may or we may not escape; but the second-- which is perhaps the worse of the two-- lies in some degree within the power of our own will. we need not make ourselves wretched before the time, about some event which never may happen." good philosophy this, i believe, but not a little difficult to act upon. when i have seen the younger members of that race which proudly styles itself "lords of creation," trembling, shrinking, nay-- i shame to say it-- even _crying_, at fear of some possible evil, a little disappointment perhaps, or a little pain, i have thought of whiskerandos and the pies, and fancied that reasoning mortals might learn something even from a rat. i was so terribly afraid of being caught by the sailors, that i confined myself more than usual to the cabin, keeping close to the hole that i had made, that i might always be ready for a start should the blue eyes ever happen to rest upon me; but those books, those famous books, happily gave them other occupation. "papa," said neddy to his father one day, "i should rather have gone to some other place than st. petersburg, i feel such a dislike to the russians." "why should you dislike them," said the captain. "oh! because they were our enemies so long, and killed so many of our fine fellows!" "they were but obeying the orders of their czar-- doing what they believed to be their duty." "but they were horribly cruel, papa." "it would both be ungenerous and unjust to charge upon a whole nation the crimes of a few individuals. it is singular that one of the most striking examples of mercy to a foe of which i have ever heard, was shown by a russian. the story is given as a fact, and i have pleasure in relating it, not only from its own touching interest, but from the hope that it may teach my son what our conduct should be towards those who, though our foes, are our fellow-creatures still. "in the time of the first napoleon, the french invaded russia, from whence they were obliged to retreat, suffering the most fearful hardships, not only from the usual privations of war, but those caused by famine and the fearful cold of that northern clime. thousands and thousands of brave troops perished in this fatal retreat. the splendid army which had marched into russia so numerous and strong, melted away like a snow-ball! the fierce cossacks hovered around the lessening bands, cutting off the weary stragglers who, unable to keep up with the rest, sank down upon the snow to die! "at this fearful time two poor french officers, separated from their comrades, helpless and exhausted, sought refuge at the house of a lady, beseeching her to preserve them from the terrible death with which they were threatened, either from cold and hunger, or the swords of their enemies. the lady was a russian,-- the officers were her foes,-- she had probably suffered from the devastating march of the french army,-- but she had the heart of a woman. she dared not conceal the officers in her own house for fear of her servants and the rage of her countrymen, who would probably have not only slain the fugitives, but have wreaked their vengeance also upon her for seeking to protect their enemies. the russian lady hid them in a wood, at some little distance from her dwelling, and thither every night, braving both the danger of discovery and the peril of being attacked by wolves, did this noble-hearted woman go alone, to bear food and necessaries to the suffering frenchmen." "oh! papa, just fancy hurrying along the snow, with the sharp winter's wind cutting like a knife,-- and then perhaps to hear a distant howl, showing that a wolf was on one's track! oh! i should not have fancied those night expeditions!" "it would have been noble," resumed the captain, "to have ventured thus for a friend,-- the russian lady did so for her enemies." "and were the french officers saved at last?" "yes; by freely giving her money as she had freely risked her safety, after a while the lady contrived the escape of the fugitives beyond the frontier. when a considerable time had elapsed, a present of a piece of plate, which she received from france, showed that the officers were not ungrateful to their preserver." "she was a generous enemy, papa, and a noble woman. but are not the common people in russia very ignorant and bad?" "very ignorant i believe they are, but it would be harsh and wrong to call them very bad. they are cheerful and good-tempered, and even when intoxicated they do not show the ferocity which disgraces a drunkard in england." "but are they not dreadful thieves?" "they are said to be very skilful in cheating, and singularly dexterous in picking pockets. but here again it would be unjust to brand a whole nation with a disgraceful stigma.* i have another true story for you, neddy, and this time it shall be of a poor russian, a messenger, or as they call him, an isdavoi. "an english lady living at st. petersburg gave five hundred rubles** in charge to an isdavoi to deliver to her daughter, who dwelt at some distance. on the following day the russian returned, kissed the lady's hand after the fashion of his country, and said, 'pardon me, i am guilty. i cannot tell how it has happened, but i have lost your money, and cannot find it again. deal with me as you please.'" "the poor fellow," continued the captain, "probably expected a severe flogging, or dismissal from his office, but the lady had no inclination to punish him with such rigour. unwilling to ruin the isdavoi, she made no mention of his offence, considered the money as gone for ever, and after a while lost sight of the messenger entirely. after six years had elapsed he came to her one day with a joyful face, laden with six hundred rubles, which he brought in the place of those which had been intrusted to his care. on inquiry it was found that this honest russian had for those six years been denying himself every little pleasure, and by resolute economy had saved up his wages until he had collected about half of the sum required. he had then married a wife whose feelings of honour appeared to have been as delicate as his own, for not only her dower of one hundred rubles was added to his hard-earned savings, but her little valuables had been sold to make up the full amount of the money that had been lost!" "oh, papa! what honest people! but did the english woman take all their money!" "no entreaties on her part could induce the poor isdavoi to take back the rubles to save up which had been for so long the object of his life. the lady, however, generously placed the money in a public bank to accumulate for the benefit of his children." "bravo!" exclaimed neddy, clapping his hands; "that was just how a lady should behave; and as for the poor isda-- what do you call him?-- he was a fine fellow, and quite worthy to have been an englishman!" [* the materials for my little sketch of russian manners, &c., have been chiefly drawn from the translation of a work by the german traveller kohl.] [** a russian piece of money.] chapter xv. first view of st. petersburg. "cronstadt! cronstadt!" i heard the shout from the deck one evening when the sun was going down, and his red disk seemed resting on the heaving waters, while to the east the strong fortifications stood clearly defined against the sky, bathed in his glowing light. being quite alone in the cabin, for every human being was on deck, i was taking my survey of the place from the open port-hole before me. it was a very gay scene upon which i looked. not even on the thames, our own river, have i seen a greater variety of craft. steam-boats, and sailing-boats, schooners, cutters, brigs and gondolas,-- paddled along the water, or spread snowy wings to the breeze. i gazed upon them, and upon the formidable batteries, bristling with guns, which defend the "water-gate of st. petersburg" as cronstadt has been called, till the shadows of night fell around, and i could without risk of observation, join whiskerandos in the hold. he was in company with another rat, of rather a foreign appearance. "my friend dwishtswatshiksky here," said he, "tells me that we shall soon arrive at the capital of russia." "i am very glad to hear it!" cried i; "i long to be again on shore. if we had any means of landing here, i should not care if i stopped short of st. petersburg." i had not forgotten the pies. "you would doubtless, little brother, from natural association, like to visit rat island," said the stranger with the unpronounceable name. "rat island!" exclaimed whiskerandos and i at the same moment. "that fortified island opposite to cronstadt, lying across the bay upon which the place stands, and giving to its waters the appearance of a lake, was called ratusare, or rat's island in the days of old." "not the only rat's island in the world," observed whiskerandos; "we have one off the coast of devon." "and doubtless it still bears that name," said the russian rat, with a graceful wave of his whiskers. "but things, alas! were altered here when the warriors of peter the great drove the swedes from this island in . the vanquished left behind them nothing but a great kettle, which in default of other trophy the russians reared in triumph on a pole; so the name of the place has been changed since that time, and rat island is called kettle island." "it is fortunate for us, sir rat," said i, (i did not venture to attempt to call him by his name,) "it is fortunate for us that before landing in a strange country, we have met with a friend so intelligent and well-informed as you appear to be." he made me so many polite assurances of the gratification which he felt in making my acquaintance, the pleasure which it would give him to conduct us to the house in which he usually quartered in the city, and the pride which he would feel in showing us everything which he could hope would interest us, that we blunt english rats felt almost abashed at his excessive courtesy. he only followed the manners of his country, where the poorest labourer is quite overwhelming in his politeness. dwishtswatshiksky (we soon shortened his name to wisky) was as good as his word. we kept close while the passengers landed at a magnificent quay at st. petersburg; while the rapid tread of feet, loud voices, shouts and hurried movements, were heard above, not a rat ventured forth from his hiding-place. alas! with every precaution, when we mustered before landing, our numbers were sadly diminished, though of rat pies we had heard no more. in darkness we a second time made a suspension bridge of the rope which bound the vessel to the shore, and with delight i found myself again upon land, a free denizen of earth, no longer cooped up in the narrow, dangerous prison of a vessel. wisky led the way, closely followed by whiskerandos. they moved on so fast that i was in danger of losing sight of my guides, so apt was i to linger on my way to look at the wonders around me. it is a beautiful city, st. petersburg; at least so it seemed to me in the moonlight. with its streets of palaces, its lively green roofs, sky-blue cupolas dotted with stars, gilt spires, columns, statues, and obelisks, it is a place not soon to be forgotten. if i might venture to suggest a fault, it is that all looks too perfectly new. antiquity gives added interest to beauty,-- at least such is the opinion of a rat. that which looks as if it had risen but yesterday, appears as though it might fall to-morrow. "would you believe it," said wisky, "a great part of this splendid city is built upon piles! the foundation alone of yonder great church cost a million of rubles! there is a constant fight going on here between water and the efforts of man. to look at the fine buildings around us, you would say that man had secured the victory. he has thrown over the river a variety of bridges, stone, suspension, and pontoon, that can be taken to pieces at pleasure, to connect the numerous islands together, and has raised the most stately edifices on a trembling bog! but the water is not conquered after all! i have known houses burst asunder from the foundations giving way. i have seen a palace separated from the very steps that led up to its door. and in spring, when the snow melts which has been collecting for months, the horses can scarcely flounder along through the rivers of mud in the streets!" "does the water ever rise very high?" inquired whiskerandos. this was no idle question on his part; he made it as a practical rat, who knew what it was to live in a cellar, and had no desire to be drowned. "ah, my dear brother!" replied the russian rat, "many stories are still told of the fearful inundation which happened in . impelled by a furious west wind, the waters then rose to a fearful height, streamed through the streets, floated the carriages, made boats of the carts, nay, lifted some wooden houses right from the ground, and sent them floating about, with all their inhabitants in them, like so many men-of-war! horses were drowned, and so, alas! were rats in terrible numbers. the trees in the squares were crowded with men, clinging to them like bees when they cluster! it is said that thousands of poor human beings perished, and that the inundation cost the city more than a hundred millions of rubles!" "well, st. petersburg is a splendid place!" cried i; "but after all, the merry banks of the thames, and dear dingy old london for me!" chapter xvi. a russian kitchen. under the guidance of wisky we took up our abode in a russian house. house did i call it!-- if ever there was a palace this was one. we established ourselves in the kitchen; a warm, comfortable place we found it, where we had much opportunity for observation, both of the denizens of the place and their various occupations. "it seems to me, wisky," said i, on the night following that of our arrival, "that there is no end to the number of servants that pass in and out of this dwelling! who is that fellow in the blue cloth caftan, fastened under his left arm with three silver buttons, and girded round the waist with a coloured silk scarf? his fine bushy beard seems to match the fur with which his high four-cornered cap is trimmed." "that is the tartar coachman," replied wisky; "a dashing fellow is he, and a bold driver through the crowded streets of the city. the pretty youths yonder are the postilions. young and small they must be, to suit the taste of a russian noble. the worse for them, poor boys, as they are less able to endure the bitter cold of a winter's night, when, if they drop asleep on their horses, they are never likely to awake any more!" "and are their masters actually cruel enough," i exclaimed, "to expose them to such suffering and risk?" "my much esteemed brother," replied the russian rat, "doubtless your clear mind has already come to the conclusion that selfishness is inherent in the human race. a young noble is at a ball; must he quit its bright enchantments, and the society of the fair whom he admires, because a bearded coachman is freezing without? a beauteous lady, wrapped in ermine and velvet, is weeping in the theatre over the woes of some imaginary heroine; would you have her dry her tearful eyes, and leave the scene of touching interest and elegant excitement, because icicles are hanging from the locks of her little postilion, and his head is gradually sinking on his breast, as the fatal sleep steals over him? selfish!-- yes, all human beings are selfish!" "there are exceptions to that rule," thought i, for i remembered the stories which i had heard in the cabin; and i also recollected the conduct of their narrator, captain blake, towards the starving little thief in london. "i have been trying," said whiskerandos, "to count the servants in this house; but no sooner do i think that my task is done, than in comes some new one, speaking some different language, wearing some different costume, and puts all my calculations to fault." "it would puzzle even one possessing the talents of my brother to count the number of the servants here," replied wisky. "why, even i, who, before my visit to england, spent months amongst the household, can scarcely number them now. to begin with the inmates of a higher rank, who never appear in the kitchen, there are the french governess and the german tutor, to polish up the minds of the children, and the family physician to look after their health. then there are the superintendent of accounts, the secretary, the dworezki-- he who has charge of the whole establishment, the valets of the lord, the valets of the lady, the overseer of the children, the footmen, the buffetshik or butler, the table-decker, the head groom, the coachman and postilions of the lord, the coachman and postilions of the lady,--" "what!" cried whiskerandos, "are their carriages so small that they will not hold two, or are the grandees afraid of quarrelling, that husband and wife cannot travel together!" "surely, sir wisky," exclaimed i, "you must have come to the end of your list!" "pardon me, little brother, not yet. there are the attendants on the boys and on the tutor, the porter, the head cook and the under cook, the baker, brewer, the waiting-maids and wardrobe-keeper of the lady, the waiting-maid who attends the french governess, the nurses that take care of the children, and the nurses that once took care of the children, the kapell-meister or head musician, and all the men of his band!" "well!" cried i, much amused, "at any rate a russian noble must be well served. if he calls for his shoes, i suppose that half-a-dozen servants start off in a race to fetch them, and knock their heads together in their eagerness to get them!" a valet at this moment entered the kitchen, where, secure in our hiding-place, we were watching all that passed. "where's ivan?" said he, "where's ivan?" the coachman, who was playing at draughts with the head groom, looked up for an instant, then silently made his move. "my lady's a-fainting, and my lord's calling for water! where's ivan, i say? 'tis his business to fetch it." "there's ivan," said the cook, pointing contemptuously to a sandy-haired figure fast asleep under the table. "get up, ye lazy fellow!" exclaimed the valet; "my lady's fainting, my lord's calling for water; take a glass of it on a silver salver directly." ivan got up slowly, yawned, stretched himself, rubbed his eyes; then, taking a tumbler off the dresser, he leisurely filled it with water. "and where am i to get the silver salver?" said he. "that's in keeping of matwei the buffetshik," observed the table-decker. "and where is matwei to be found?" "here you, vatka," pursued the valet, turning to another attendant, who was busy over his basin of kwas, "go you to matwei and tell him that we want a silver salver on which to carry a tumbler, for my lady's fainting up stairs, and my lord is calling for water." a loud ring from above was heard, as if to enforce the order. "sei tshas! sei tshas!-- directly, directly!" called out vatka; but he nevertheless finished his kwas, and wiped his mouth before he went to matwei the butler to procure the silver salver on which ivan the footman would carry the tumbler of water which paul the valet had been ordered to bring. before all was ready another messenger came to tell ilia the bearded coachman to put to the horses, for the lady was ready for her drive. it was evident that she had managed to recover from her fainting fit without the aid of the glass of water,-- a happy thing for one who had the misfortune to keep fifty or sixty servants. wisky laughed at my look of surprise. "i believe that one pair of hands," said he, "often serve better than a dozen. the russian proverb says that 'directly' means _to-morrow morning_, and 'this minute' _this day week_." with quiet night came our feasting-time, and when the kitchen was deserted by the crowds of servants, whiskerandos, wisky, and i, crept softly out of our hole, provided with pretty sharp appetites for our meal. "i am curious to taste that liquor which you call kwas," said i; "vatka seemed to relish it exceedingly." "relish it, brother! i should think so!" exclaimed wisky. "kwas is to a russian what water is to a fish; rich or poor could hardly bear existence without it." "not bad at all," said i, dipping my whiskers carefully into a bowl that had been set aside by the cook. "mind you don't tumble in, old fellow!" cried whiskerandos, "and be drowned in kwas as i have heard that a duke once was drowned in wine." "and what may this kwas be made of?" inquired i, after another approving sip. "i ought to know, little brother," replied wisky, "for many and many a time have i seen it brewed. a pailful of water is poured into an earthen jar, into which are shaken two pounds of barley-meal, half a pound of salt, and a pound and a half of honey. the whole is then placed in an oven with a moderate fire, and constantly stirred. it is left for a time to settle, and in the morning the clear liquor is poured off. in a week it is in the highest perfection." "i wonder that kwas is not made in england," observed i; "but honey is not so plentiful there." "sugar would make a good substitute, i should think," said wisky; "the beverage would not then be an expensive one. but here is our beloved whiskerandos busy with his shtshee, the dish of all dishes in this country, that which nothing, i believe, could ever drive from the table or the heart of a russian. when in a foreign land, it is said, it is not the remembrance of native hills or plains, or the tender delights of home, that draws tears into an exile's eyes, but the loss of his beloved shtshee, the favourite dish of his childhood." "leave a little for me!" i cried eagerly to whiskerandos, who had nearly finished, by dint of steady perseverance, a portion which had been left in a plate. "why," i added, as i tasted the liquid, "this seems to me simply cabbage soup!" "whatever my brother may think of it," observed wisky, dipping his whiskers into the nearly empty plate, "he is now tasting that which forms the principal article of food of forty millions of human beings! better live without bread than without shtshee." "and the ingredients?" said i, for i always delighted to pick up any scrap of information interesting to a rat. "there are almost as many ways of making shtshee as of cooking potatoes. i have seen six or seven cabbages chopped up small, half a pound of butter, a handful of salt, and two pounds of minced mutton added, the whole mixed up with a can or two of kwas. but it is now time, brothers, for us to sally forth. i must do the honours of this our city, and show my illustrious guests whatever i may deem worthy of their observation." chapter xvii. a ramble over st. petersburg. "what a nation of painters russia must be!" exclaimed i, as we quietly moved through the silent streets. every shop had a picture before it, expressive of the occupation of its owner. here was a tempting board covered with representations of every loaf and roll that a painter's fancy could devise; there a tallow-chandler did his best to make candles appear picturesque. even from the second and third floors hung portraits of fiddles, and flutes, boots, shoes, caps, bonnets, and bears' grease, and on one board a sad likeness of a rat in a trap made us quicken our steps as we passed it. we moved through a deserted market. here whole lanes are devoted to the sale of a single kind of article. there is the stocking row, the shoe row, the hat row, at which it appeared that a whole nation might have provided covering for head and for feet. "i wish, dear brother," said wisky, "that your visit had been in the season of winter. i could then have led you to a market which strangers must indeed have surveyed with surprise. you would then have seen beasts, fishes, and fowls, all frozen so hard that the hatchet is required to divide them. you would have passed through rows of dead sheep standing upon their feet, motionless oxen that seemed ready to low, whole flocks of white hares appearing actually in motion, reindeer and elks on whose mighty horns the pigeons fearlessly perch!" "the cold must then be fearful in winter," said i. "oh! the houses are kept so warm with stoves that there but little suffering is known. but woe to the men who loiter in the streets when they are paved with ice and glistening with snow! the passengers run for their lives, with the sharp wind rushing after them, as a cat after a mouse! men cover even their faces with fur; but should an unlucky nose peep out from the warm shelter, the bitter frost often bites it on a sudden. "father-- father! thy nose!" thus will one stranger salute another as he passes; and if not speedily rubbed with snow, the nose of the poor passenger is lost! men's very eyes are sometimes frozen up, and they have no resource but to beg admission at the first door to which they can grope, to unthaw their glued lashes at a stove!" "all this is very curious," observed i, "but still i have little desire to witness it. the long winter must be dreary indeed!" "the russians are lively fellows," observed wisky, "and instead of grumbling at dark skies and piercing blasts, they make merry where others would murmur. when winter must perforce be their companion, they oblige the grim old giant to add to their amusements. you should see the gay sledges as they dash at full speed over the frozen surface of the river neva! and the ice-mountains which the people raise, and down which they glide swift as lightning, laughing, shouting, and singing! i have seen snow piled up to the very roof of a house; and down its steep slope, merely seated on a mat, a large merry party glide gaily to the ground. but," he cried, suddenly interrupting himself, "have a care where you tread, my brother, or you will be down into that ice-pit! never was there such a place as st. petersburg for these,-- no large house is deemed complete without one. if russians _cannot_ be without abundance of ice in winter, they show that they _will_ not be without it during their brief hot summer,-- the quantities consumed could scarcely be believed!" whiskerandos, who had been lingering behind us, in a tempting quarter of the market, now scampered up and joined us. we were passing at the time a large building, and i could not avoid looking up in wonder at its strange columns. of these there were no fewer than a hundred, and the capital of each was formed by three cannon, with their round open mouths yawning down into the street. "this," said our guide, following the direction of my eyes, "is the spass preobrashenskoi sabor; a church greatly adorned with the spoils of nations vanquished by russia." "well," said whiskerandos, who in the course of his adventurous life had both seen cannon and learnt their use, "perhaps those big instruments of war are just as well up there, where they are seen, and not heard or felt. man is the only creature, i fancy, who, not content with what powers of destruction nature has given him, cuts down trees from the forest, digs iron from the mine, sets the furnace glowing, and the engine working, to fashion means of killing his brothers in a wholesale manner." "yonder," said wisky, pointing with his nose, "are the father of the russian fleet and the grandmother of the houses of st. petersburg." "let's see them by all means!" i exclaimed; "i have viewed plenty of russian ships and russian houses, and i have a lively curiosity to see the father and the grandmother of so famous a family!" wisky rapidly led the way to a hut, into which with little difficulty we entered, for locks and bars do not keep out rats, nor surly porters refuse them admission. "is this the father of the russian fleet!" exclaimed whiskerandos rather contemptuously, running, audacious rat that he was, along the edge of a boat about thirty feet long. "is russia a child, that she should amuse herself with a toy, and keep a big boat under a roof where there is no water to float it, as if it were some delicate jewel!" "on no jewel in the emperor's crown," replied wisky, "would a russian look with the same interest as on that poor boat. peter the great helped to fashion it himself! he found his country without a navy, and he gave her one; he laboured himself as a common ship-wright: and now, as a mighty oak springs from a single acorn, in that one boat his people view with reverence "the father of the russian fleet." "and where is the grandmother of the houses?" inquired i. "that is hard by," replied wisky. "it is nothing but a small wooden cottage which peter built for himself by the neva, before a single street stretched across the dreary bog upon which he founded this city of palaces!" and so we rambled on, light-hearted rats that we were, picking up scraps here and there, and exchanging observations, till a faint blush in the eastern sky warned us that it was time to go home. before we reached the house already criers were abroad in the streets, screaming, "boots from casan!"-- "pictures from moscow!"-- "flowers, fine flowers!" as they wandered on, carrying their wares on their heads. fierce-looking fellows, with long shaggy hair and beards, wrapped up in skins were passing about, exchanging good-natured greetings, strangely in contrast with their appearance. "good-day, brother! how goes it? what is your pleasure? how can i serve you?" smiling, bowing, baring their rough heads to each other, these poor russians appeared the very pictures of politeness shrouded in sheepskin. but remembering that even amongst the most civilized nations of the world, rats are considered as quite beyond the pale of courtesy, and that the most good-natured musjik in this city would have thought nothing of hitting one of us over with his shoe, we thought it better to retreat while our skins were whole, and regain our comfortable quarters in the kitchen. chapter xviii. how we were transported. it was my intention, as well as that of whiskerandos, after hearing of the cheerfulness of a russian winter, and the comfort preserved in the houses, to remain to witness the ice-mountains, the frozen neva, and, above all, the wonderful market which wisky had described to us on that night. our intentions, however, were frustrated, and our projects of amusement defeated by an incident which suddenly altered the whole course of our affairs. whiskerandos, who was of a very bold and independent disposition, cared not to place himself constantly under the guidance of his russian companion. he made forays by himself into the streets, moon or no moon, it was all one to him. he brought us back accounts of many singular adventures,-- how he had been seen by a dog, chased by a cat, and nearly run over by a drosky, the name given to the vehicles which in st. petersburg take the place of our london cabs. "have a care, brother, have a care! even the brave may dare too much, and the fortunate venture once too often!" with such exclamations as these our courteous russian rat would listen to the tales of such hair-breadth escapes. the effect of his words upon me was to render me cautious,-- timid perhaps you will call it. the only motives which usually roused me to encounter danger, were hunger, or overpowering curiosity. i liked to see all, hear all, and know all, and picked up scraps of general information with the same relish that i would have picked up scraps of cheese. once whiskerandos came home in high spirits. he had made such a discovery, found such treasures,-- been in the very place where of all others a rat might rejoice in boundless content. directly behind the exchange he had found a large open space, fenced round with iron railing, which, while keeping out man, offered everywhere a door of welcome to rats. here, protected by nothing but tarpaulin, was collected a quantity of goods, both those which had been imported into russia, and those with which she paid back from her own productions the contributions of the world. "oh, the mountains of tallow which i saw there!" exclaimed whiskerandos, executing a somerset in the air, in the excess of his admiration and delight. "there may well be mountains, brother," observed wisky, "since, besides the quantities which she uses herself, russia is said to export every year about _two hundred and fifty millions of pounds_ of tallow, of which above one half is shipped from st. petersburg." "two hundred and fifty millions!" i exclaimed, almost breathless with amazement, "why, surely that is enough to light up the whole world, and feast every rat that is in it! i would give anything to see the place where such glorious mountains are to be found?" "trust yourself with me to-morrow night, and i will guide you to the place," said whiskerandos. now commenced a conflict in my mind, caution pulling me one way, curiosity the other, while a discussion took place between my comrades, wisky backing caution, whiskerandos curiosity,-- and the english rat won the day. so that night off we two scampered together, and without accident or adventure reached the space at the back of the exchange. truly i was in a world of wonders! i actually revelled in everything that can charm the palate or the nose of a rat! here was the division for russian imports,-- various and curious were they. there were chests of tea from china, coffee from arabia, sugar from the west indies, and english cotton goods, bales on bales piled up to a marvellous height. there was a quantity of tobacco, heaps of cheese, spices of all sorts and kinds. now we came upon the odour of cinnamon or cloves; then the strong perfume of musk betrayed an importation from india. no wonder that the hours passed unheeded while we lingered in this wonderful place! we passed on to the portion of the area devoted to russian exports, and here we were, if possible, still more delighted! all the articles which bright-eyes had mentioned as coming from russia were here; we were bewildered amongst heaps of furs, piles of leather, barrels of tallow, and prodigious quantities of corn! morn was breaking, indeed, but we could not tear ourselves away, till the sounds of life, and the signs of motion around us, alarmed me with the idea that it was too late to retreat. "let's bury ourselves in this corn-sack," cried i, "we can sleep here very well during the day, and recommence our explorations after dark." whiskerandos acceded to my proposition. quiet we kept, very quiet. noisier the world seemed to grow, till at length voices were heard so alarmingly near, that i crouched closer to my companion in terror! then-- oh! the horrible sensation which i experienced,-- never shall i forget it! i felt that our sack was roughly pushed by some one, then suddenly lifted on high! "we are lost!" i gasped to whiskerandos. then another sort of motion succeeded, accompanied by a heavy rumbling sound, like that of the rolling wheel of a truck. every hair of mine quivered with fear! "whiskerandos! oh, whiskerandos! if they should be carrying us to a mill!-- if we should be ground into powder between two great stones!" "be quiet and never despair," was the answer of the bold-hearted rat. i believe that that terrible journey did not last long, but to me the time appeared an age! every turn of the grating wheel beneath me sent a pang of anguish through my frame! at last the truck, if such it were, stopped; in a few minutes the sack was again rudely moved, carried aloft, and then tumbled, with its living contents, down-- down-- we could not tell where! what a shock it gave me, that tumble! i lay for some seconds quite stunned. my first impulse, when i recovered a little, was bitterly to bewail my condition, and to reproach him who had brought me into it. "oh that i had been content with my kwas and my shtshee! oh that i had never left the kitchen! that i had never ventured forth with a reckless companion, who would, i believe, play at hide and seek with a cat, or nibble at the pocket of a rat-catcher!" my tone was, i knew, both peevish and provoking; and many a brown rat, in the position of my companion, would have stopped my doleful squeaking at once by giving me something to squeak for. but whiskerandos, whatever were his faults, was above that mean one of quarrelling with those who found them out, or attempting to screen and defend them. "ratto, i am sorry that i have led you into trouble," said he. "i wish that i could suffer alone for my self-will and imprudence. but since no regrets can recall the past, let us not make our miseries greater by reproaches and dissension between those who may soon die, as they have lived, together." his mildness quite overcame any feeling of bitterness in my heart; and hope revived as some time elapsed without fresh cause for alarm occurring. "i wonder where we are!" exclaimed i, shaking myself into a more easy position. "i fancy that i hear the creaking of a windlass!" cried whiskerandos. "and the flapping of canvass!" added i. "and i smell tar." "a strong odour of tar! depend upon it, we are down in the hold of a ship!" "ha! that's the ripple of water! she moves,-- she moves!" we were again afloat on the waters! chapter xix. a storm and its consequences. "farewell st. petersburg, stately city! with thy flat green roofs, and star-spangled domes! farewell merry-hearted, sandy-haired russians, bearded tartars, gay circassians,-- never may we behold you again! farewell kwas and shtshee, and all the luxuries for too brief a time enjoyed! where are we going now,-- where!" such were the complaints which i was wont to pour out during the long tedious voyage which succeeded. whiskerandos never grumbled, it was not in his nature; he quietly fed on his corn without uttering one melancholy word: but i suspected that he, like myself, associated sailors with rat pies; and to hear any one approach the hold, drove me almost wild with terror. that was a horrible voyage! a fearful tempest came on before the vessel readied the place of her destination, whatever that might be. the winds whistled and raged, and the ship reeled and plunged like a restive horse; and again and again torrents of salt water came sweeping down into the hold! then, as the furious storm continued, the very seams of the ship seemed to open like pores, to let in the sea, which was knocking and raging without for admittance, till at length the hold became like a ditch, which we rats could not cross but by swimming! then the pumps were set to work-- i could hear the men toiling at them day and night; yet the water gained on them notwithstanding their efforts. there were tremendous noises on deck; i fancied once or twice that i could distinguish human cries; and what with the constant splashing of the water as the vessel rolled heavily from side to side, and the bumping and thumping of some casks that had got loose, and were smashing against one another, and the shouting, and the roaring of wind and waves, there was enough to stun and terrify any creature, be he quadruped or biped! such of the corn as remained in our sack was becoming so soft from salt water that it had acquired the consistence of a pudding. but we had now no heart even to eat! we had so often heard the captain's voice raised to give loud orders, that we had ceased to pay any particular attention to them, little dreaming that any would concern us further than as they regarded the safety of the vessel. but at length the result of an order to lighten the ship was speedily felt in the hold! our sack (for we still made it our hiding-place) was suddenly lifted with others; and before we had time even to guess what was intended, splash we went into the sea! ugh! how the water bubbled in our ears! what frantic efforts we made to free ourselves from the sack! nor were those efforts without success, for we had long ago gnawed the string which fastened its mouth: it opened with the motion of the waves, and corn, rats and all, floated upon the surface of the raging billows! down in two seconds went the corn, swallowed up by the sea; still we struggled, drowning rats that we were, to save ourselves by desperate swimming. of course our strength must soon have been exhausted, and the mighty green waves must have swept us to destruction, had not a barrel, thrown out from the ship, been happily floating near us! whiskerandos saw this little island of hope. as for me, i was too much frightened and confused to look around me; but i instinctively followed where he led, and soon found myself, shivering, shaking, dripping with wet, and looking as wretched as a rat can look, on the floating barrel beside my friend! how we shook our glistening sides, and shuddered and gazed disconsolately round us on the wide waste of waters, lashed into long streaks of angry foam! alas! there was no land in sight; but then the white mist rested on the horizon, which shut out the distant view. "if we are not drowned we shall be starved!" exclaimed i, very piteously, to whiskerandos. alas! our barrel was empty. oh! the misery endured that day, and the terrible night which succeeded! we had no resource but to gnaw at the tasteless wood. we were surrounded with water, yet perishing with thirst! pinched by hunger, without hope of relief! better to have been drowned at once; better to have fallen by the paw of a mouser, or to have been caught like my brothers in a trap, than to be dying thus by inches on a barrel, tossed in the midst of the sea! but with the gray morning hope dawned! we perceived that our little island had drifted near to some shore. the waves were now much more quiet, and leapt on the beach with a pleasant murmur, and strove to roll on, each farther than the other, like children merrily racing together. "could we not swim to the shore?" said whiskerandos. but i recoiled from the dangerous attempt. "no, no; some wave will roll the barrel on the beach," i replied; "no more struggling in the water for me!" and the waves, bearing the barrel on their green backs, seemed often ready to land it safely on shore, but each time changed their minds, and kept it bobbing up and down, while they retired back with a grating noise over the pebbles, as if mocking our distress and impatience. "we are farther off now than we were ten minutes ago," said whiskerandos. "perhaps the tide is on the turn. pluck up a brave heart, and let's dash in like rats!" and he plunged fearlessly into the water. but for the sharp spur of hunger, i fear that i should have left him to make the bold attempt alone; but, famished as i was, i resolved to swim for my life. with a sudden effort i sprang into the waves; and so, following in the wake of my companion, i struggled in safety to the shore! oh! the delight of feeling dry ground again!-- of standing once more on the firm, solid earth! never, never again, i firmly resolved, would i venture in any vessel, or trust my life to the mercy of the billows that had so nearly accomplished our destruction. chapter xx. catch him-- dead or alive! we made a hasty breakfast off a star-fish that we found stranded on the beach; but this rather increased our painful thirst, and to find some means of quenching it we hurried inland at the utmost speed which our weakened powers could command. we had not run far before we came to a large house. "there is sure to be a supply of water here," said whiskerandos. "let us explore the place." "i fancy that i hear a dripping!" i cried eagerly, as we approached the door of the back-yard. the door was indeed closed, and sharp bits of broken bottles, on the top both of it and the brick wall, rendered it impossible to climb over them; but i-- my wit quickened by my painful thirst-- discovered in a moment that, at the bottom of the door, part of the wood had been broken away, either by time or perhaps the teeth of our brethren, leaving an opening just large enough for a rat easily to creep through. i was not one to venture on an unexplored region, so i looked anxiously through into the yard. at the opposite side of it there was-- oh, joyful sight!-- a pump, from which drop by drop fell, with a most inviting sound, into a trough below. and yet, faint with thirst as i was, the place had an aspect which alarmed me, and made me fear to venture across the yard. not far from the pump, and between it and us, was an open green door, which led into a garden or pleasure-ground, and though i could see nothing to alarm me, my quick ear distinguished suspicious sounds in that direction. "in with you!" exclaimed whiskerandos, impatiently. "don't keep me here, dying with thirst at the hole." i drew back with a gesture of caution. "whiskerandos," said i, "i don't like the green door open yonder. if any one came through it into the yard and cut off our retreat!" "nothing dare, nothing win!" he exclaimed; "i am thirsty and i must have water:" and, hurrying through the little opening which i have mentioned, he was soon eagerly drinking at the trough. hesitating, doubting, i was about to follow him, and already my nose was through the hole, when a sight, at the remembrance of which i shudder still, made me withdraw it instanter. through the fatal green door near the pump, a young man, with his hands in his pockets and his cap cocked on one side, followed by several dogs, leisurely sauntered into the yard. i saw in an instant that for whiskerandos escape was impossible. he had the whole length of the yard to cross; his foes were far nearer to him than me. his only chance was that of not being perceived; but this in broad daylight, with the noses of three or four dogs not two yards from him, was a miserable chance indeed. the dogs instantly found him out, and were at him in a moment. my unhappy companion darted behind the trough, quick as a flash of lightning. i felt assured that he would there bravely defend himself to the last; but what could one poor rat do, albeit the boldest of his race, against such terrible odds! "ha! a rat!" exclaimed the young man, looking quite amused and pleased-- barbarian that he was!-- at the prospect of seeing a poor defenceless creature torn to pieces before him. "ha! carlo, give it him!-- shake him by the ear!" the young man actually laughed aloud with delight! i could not see whiskerandos, for the trough was between us: i fancied his look of fierce despair as he faced the foes from whom he could not flee, and from whom he could expect no pity. he had evidently got into some corner, from which the dogs could not easily dislodge him; for they stood yelping and barking, showing their white teeth, with their greedy eyes all turned to one point. so the human savage came to their aid. having taken up a stick which happened to be lying on the ground near, while the dogs retired a step to allow their master to give his ungenerous assistance, he pushed the stick behind the trough, and by its means dragged poor whiskerandos from his last place of refuge! "ha! the fellow's dead! i must have killed him with the stick!" cried the young man; and stooping down he lifted up the poor rat by the tail, and held him aloft to examine him more closely, while the dogs leapt and barked around, eager to tear their victim limb from limb! "he's been in the wars-- lost his ears!" laughed the young man, still holding the stiffened body on high by the tail. "i'm sorry i poked him with the stick; he'd have given us some sport with the dogs!" did ever such a heartless monster walk on two feet before! "oh! whiskerandos! whiskerandos!" thought i, as, almost rooted to the spot with horror, i stood gazing on the pitiful sight. "i am glad that you are dead! oh, i am glad that you are dead! bravest, noblest of rats, they can torture you no more!" the dogs showed by their impatient movements that they considered that their master took a great deal too much time in his survey of a lifeless rat i suspect that he only did so to tease and tantalize them, for suddenly raising whiskerandos still higher, to give more force to his fling, he cried, "now carlo-- rover-- cæsar-- who's first!" and swung the body away towards the door behind which i stood a trembling, shuddering spectator! but lo and behold! no sooner did the seemingly dead rat touch the ground, than he found life, strength, and speed in a moment! the dogs were after him like the wind, but the very force of the fling had given him a good start, and he was through the opening under the door, knocking me over as he pushed past, almost before i could recall my scattered senses sufficiently to understand that he was actually alive! i have some remembrance of the young man's exclamation of amazement as the dead rat found his feet and disappeared,-- his shout, and the yells of the disappointed dogs,-- but i recollect no more, for i heard no more. whiskerandos and i had a fair start, and we made the best of it, and scampered off as rats scamper for their lives. well for us that that door was locked!-- well for us that there were broken bits of bottles on the top! well for us that the hole was too small for the passage of any thing larger than a rat! i do not think that we were pursued: perhaps the unlocking of the door took our foe too much time, perhaps he did not think it worth while to hunt down such ignoble game, or perhaps he considered (but this i much doubt) that the cleverness which a rat had shown in making so extraordinary an escape, entitled him to a little indulgence. but we ran as though a whole pack of hounds were behind us; we never paused to take breath or look behind us, till we had buried ourselves in a corn-field. "and are you really unhurt?" i exclaimed, when we stopped at last, panting and exhausted. "unhurt? yes!-- only bruised by the fling,-- it was well that the yard was not paved with stones." "and you were really alive and had your senses while that savage was holding you up with your head hanging down! why, you looked as like a dead rat as ever i saw one!" "i was wide awake all the time," said whiskerandos, "but i knew that it was my only chance to feign death. this has been a narrow escape, ratto; i was never so near being torn to pieces before, not even in my fight with the ferret!" "i'll never go near a house in daylight again!" exclaimed i, still trembling with excitement and terror. whiskerandos appeared to feel the effects of the fright less than i did, though his danger had been so much greater. "it is your thirst that makes you so nervous," said he; "you have not yet recovered from our voyage on the barrel. there seems to be a wet ditch around this field; come and moisten your nose in the water." the relief was certainly great, and as i drank the cool liquid, i felt my spirits revive. "i wonder where we are now!" said i. "i have no doubt on the subject,-- we are in old england again! the look of the house, the hedges, the fields, that young fellow--" "oh! don't speak of him!" i exclaimed, "cruel, barbarous monster that he is!" "you are too hard on him," said whiskerandos, in his own frank, good-humoured manner. "he may be no worse than the rest of his species, who think that there is no harm in being cruel to a rat. i suspect that even your blue-eyed friend would shout with joy to see a cat worry a mouse!" "i don't believe it!" i replied indignantly; "a generous and noble heart can never take pleasure in seeing pain inflicted on a poor defenceless creature!" "ah, but--" whiskerandos commenced, but our conversation was suddenly interrupted by a little squeak from the hedge close behind us. "i think that i know that voice!" exclaimed i, and i had hardly uttered the sentence ere from the thick covert sprang the well-remembered form of bright-eyes! chapter xxi. a new kind of watch-dog. what a rubbing of noses ensued! after all my travels and perils it was such joy to see again the face of a friend! i had so much also to relate, (i have ever been a loquacious rat,) that i almost lost breath in my long narration. i wound up my account with a description of the last adventure of whiskerandos, who was now, in my eyes, ten times more a hero than before. "and now that i have told you my news," said i, "let's hear a little of yours. in the first place, where is old oddity?" bright-eyes hung down his head, and drooped his long tail in a touching and melancholy manner. such conduct in so lively a rat showed me at once that my last surviving brother was dead! "how did it happen?" was all that i could say. "not a week after our arrival in these parts, he was caught in a hay-rick by a farmer!" faltered bright-eyes. "i saw him seized by the neck, i heard his despairing cry; i could not stay to see the poor fellow killed, and i was afraid of sharing his fate, so i made off as fast as i could." "poor oddity!" sighed i very mournfully, "never was there an uglier nor a better-hearted rat! ah! what pleasure i vainly promised to myself in relating to you all my adventures! i have been across the deep waters, encountered various perils, now in danger of being cooked in a pie, now shivering on a barrel in the ocean, and yet here am i safe and sound after all; while you, remaining quietly in england, have ignominiously perished in a hay-rick!" whiskerandos, who, being a brown rat, could not be expected to feel the same regret as myself, now turned towards bright-eyes, and asked him how far we were from london-- "for i long to be back in my old quarters," said he. "a fortnight's journey for a rat, should he travel by land," replied bright-eyes: "we came down very comfortably in a river boat, which carried us to within five miles of this spot." "i have had enough of water for some time," said whiskerandos; "and now that the fields are full of ripe corn, and the gardens of fruit, nothing so pleasant as a journey by land! what say you, friend ratto?" inquired he. "i have no mind for a long journey either by land or by sea," replied i in a melancholy tone; "i'll keep company with you for a day or two, whiskerandos, but i would rather not return now to london. i will settle quietly for a time in the country near the spot where poor oddity died!" "and you?" said whiskerandos, turning to bright-eyes. the lively rat shook his ears with all his natural vivacity. "pardon me," he cried, "but i'm of oddity's opinion,-- heroes like sir whiskerandos are the very worst travelling companions in the world! how ratto has escaped with his life i cannot imagine, but i shall certainly not try the experiment of following your fortunes for an hour! i've no fancy to be baked in a pie, or starved on a barrel, crushed by a drosky, or worried by a dog, drowned in a sack, or suspended by my tail! no, no, valiant whiskerandos, i'm quite content to admire your courage at a distance, but i don't want to share your exploits, and would rather have my ears than your fame!" and off skipped the merry little rat, before we could say a word to stay him. whiskerandos and i, being weary enough with the adventures through which we had passed, slept for the greater part of that day in the field, and wandered about during the night in a not vain search for food. the next day was remarkably hot. it was the season of harvest, and we felt the necessity of keeping quietly concealed, as many men, and women also, were busily engaged in the fields. the heat, however, produced thirst, and no water was near in which we could quench it. "i say, ratto," observed whiskerandos, "do you see yonder object, near that sheaf, that glitters so brightly in the sun?" "it is a can," replied i, "doubtless belonging to one of the reapers." "i should not wonder if there were a hunch of bread and cheese beside it," said whiskerandos. "i should not be surprised if there were." whiskerandos remained for a minute in silence, then said, "i want to compare english beer with russian kwas." "you are not going into the field!" i cried in alarm. "i am going,-- why, there is nothing to fear; there is not a reaper near, and if there were, he would need to be a sharp fellow who could catch a rat in an open field!" so the daring fellow went on his way, and i, after peeping cautiously on this side and that, to make sure that no human being could see us in the stubble, hurried after my companion, being to the full as curious as himself to make acquaintance with the contents of the can. there was a bundle of something beside it, tied up in a large red handkerchief, something of a very inviting odour. but scarcely had whiskerandos, who was foremost, touched the reaper's dinner with the end of his whiskers, when something jumped up suddenly from behind the bundle, and the voice of a rat fiercely exclaimed,-- "keep off, or i'll bite you!" whiskerandos looked surprised at the unexpected defiance, but my feelings of amazement can scarcely be conceived when i recognised, (could it be!) the dumpy form, blunt head, and piebald skin of my lost brother oddity! i rushed forward with a squeak of delight! no doubt, though less eager and excited in his manner, oddity also was greatly pleased at meeting with his brother again. he looked, however, suspiciously from the handkerchief to whiskerandos, and again desired him to "keep off," with a resolution of which i had never dreamed the piebald rat capable. "what is in that bundle, that you guard it so carefully?" said i, after we had rubbed noses again and again, with every expression of affection. "the property of my master," replied my brother. "master!" exclaimed both whiskerandos and i in amazement, "who ever heard of the master of a rat! since when have you taken upon yourself the office of a watch-dog, to guard what belongs to our enemy, man?" "since man first showed mercy to one of the race of mus, since he spared a defenceless rat when in his power. i know you, whiskerandos, i know you," continued oddity, the hairs bristling up on his back, as my companion, either in jest or earnest, took the corner of the handkerchief between his sharp teeth: "you are reckoned a hero amongst rats, but i too can fight in defence of what is confided to my charge; you have killed a ferret, and you may kill me, but while i have a tooth in my jaw, or a drop of blood in my body, you shall not touch a crumb belonging to my master!" whiskerandos would have been more than a match for three odditys, for the piebald one had neither his strength, nor agility, nor experience in fighting; but the strong rat seemed at this juncture to have no inclination to give battle to the weak one. i hope that it will be considered no sign of cowardice on his part, that he quietly dropped the corner of the handkerchief, and never even attempted to examine the contents of the can. of course i was all curiosity to know every particular of my brother's deliverance. in his own quiet, homely way, he told me his simple tale, keeping, however, all the time, a watchful eye upon the bundle beside him, while whiskerandos acted the part of a sentinel to give me timely warning if any human being should approach so near as to endanger our safety. i will tell the story of oddity as nearly as i can in his own words, i only wish that i could describe the expression of his bluff, honest face, at various parts of his narration. chapter xxii. the farmer and his bride. "i was caught one evening in a hay-rick. a swift-footed creature like you, whiskerandos, might perhaps have escaped, but i was never remarkable for agility or speed. i felt a strong hand grasping me by the back of my neck, and i gave myself up for lost. "'well, here's an odd creature,-- a piebald rat! i take it that's quite a curiosity!' cried the farmer who held me in his grasp. i expected that he would dash me against the wall the next moment, and then set his heel upon my poor body! "'i wonder whether mary ever saw the like of it before,' he continued, examining me with attention; 'i'll put it in the empty wire-cage, and try if i cannot tame it for her.' "here was a reprieve, and a most unexpected one. no one who has not believed himself to be just on the point of being smashed, can tell how glad i was when i was set loose from the farmer's terrible gripe, though only to find myself in a cage! "but soon the longing for liberty came. i attempted to gnaw through the wires, but they resisted my utmost efforts. the farmer watched me, spoke to me, gave me food-- treated me like a creature that could feel. that man has a gentle and kindly heart! at length i grew accustomed to my master, and to see him approach my prison with food was the only pleasure of my life. he ventured his finger between the bars, and i never attempted to bite it. he released me at last from my cage, and gave me a far warmer, snugger home-- in the pocket of his own great-coat!" at this point in the story whiskerandos and i uttered expressions of amazement. "wherever he went," continued oddity, "i went too. he taught me many things altogether new to a rat. it is our nature to take what we can get,-- he taught me to see food and not to touch it! he never suffered me to feel hungry: he conversed with me as though i were a little companion, and never one blow did i receive from his hand, or one kick from his heel! it was not in the nature of a quadruped to be insensible to kindness like this!" "and yet you owed it all to your piebald coat!" exclaimed i. "never was beauty such an advantage to a four-footed beast as ugliness has been to you!" "i found," pursued oddity very quietly, "that will grange, my master, was going to london, to be married to the young woman whom he had spoken of as mary. we travelled to the city together, i snugly sleeping, coiled up in his pocket." "and were you given to the lady?" said whiskerandos. "i was placed before her on a table, in a quiet little back-parlour, in which she and my master sat together. she admired my appearance." "no, no!" interrupted i, "that's impossible, i can believe anything but that!" "well, then, she wished to gratify my master by appearing to do so. she praised me, and fed me from her hand, and said that such a rat she never had seen in her life. then i crept under my master's chair, and there very quietly remained, while he and his mary talked over future plans together. "he told her of the various things that he had bought to make his home more comfortable for his wife. how he had planted the garden himself with all her favourite flowers, and twined honeysuckle over his porch. then he took her hand within his own, and in a lower and softer voice asked her if she were happy. "'very happy,' she replied, looking on the ground, while her cheek grew like a cloud at sunrise; 'only i cannot help feeling sorry,' --her voice trembled a little as she spoke,-- 'sorry to leave father, and home, and the dear children in the ragged school whom i have taught so long!' i fancy," continued my brother, "that something like a dewdrop glistened on her lashes. "'well, mary,' said the farmer heartily, 'father will come and see us; and as for your old home, why, you get a new one in exchange, and fair exchange is no robbery, you know. then for your ragged children, why, i'm wanting an active, steady boy on my farm, and though i've no great fancy for your pale-faced londoners, yet if you know any really good one, we'll take him down with us into kent.' "you should have seen how much pleased the young teacher looked! she knew one, she said, a poor motherless boy,-- she would be so glad to give him a helping hand. he was one of the best boys in the school,-- she would trust him in a room full of gold! "so it was agreed between them that she should speak to the lad, and tell him to call in the evening. "in the evening he accordingly came. i had again taken my place under the farmer's chair, and was just falling into a doze, when i was roused by a gentle knock at the door. mary's cheerful 'come in!' was followed by the entrance of,-- whom do you think?" "bob and billy!" i exclaimed at a venture. "yes, bob and billy!" repeated oddity, with a look of great glee; "i had never thought to have seen them again! and they were so changed, i should scarcely have known them. bob, in particular, looked so much taller, and stronger, and oh! so much happier than he had done last year! he was no more the wretched, joyless, hopeless creature, cowering in rags, one that even rats might look on with pity; he had a bright, fearless eye, and hopeful smile; and if ever a face expressed gratitude and affection, it was his when he looked on his gentle young teacher! "'i beg pardon for bringing billy,' said he, modestly but frankly, 'i was afraid to let him go home quite alone.' "the farmer spoke in his kindly manner to the boy. he offered him a place on his farm, and bob's eyes sparkled, and his cheek flushed with pleasure. it was but for a minute; the brightness and the glow faded away as he glanced down at his little lame brother. i saw that billy was squeezing his hand,-- that squeeze served all the purpose of words. "'thank 'ee, sir,' said the boy, glancing first at the farmer, then at his teacher, 'but i think as how-- i should rather-- leastways i had better stay and earn my bread here in lunnon.' "'and how do you earn it?' inquired the farmer. "'please, sir, i clean boots,'* answered the boy; 'i am one of the yellow brigade.' "there was such a look of cheerful independence on the little fellow's face, that no one could have glanced at him and doubted that his bread was honestly earned. "'and would you rather stay here and rub in blacking,' said the farmer, 'than be out in the open fields? yours is an odd taste, i take it! would you not rather come with us?' "'oh, sir!' said bob, uneasily, shifting from one foot to the other, while billy was squeezing his hand harder than ever, and looking half ready to cry, as he pressed closer to his side; 'you see i could not leave him behind,-- poor lame billy, he's no one to care for him but me.' "'that's it, is it!' cried the farmer, clapping his knee. 'well, mary, what say you? could we take the two with us do you think? if they've always been together, poor fellows, 'twould be a pity to part them now!' "bob's only answer was a look of pleasure and gratitude, but little billy almost burst into tears of delight as he exclaimed, 'oh, yes! please, sir, take me too!-- take me too! i'll do anything,-- i'll work,-- i'll make baskets for your fruit.' "'and coops for my poultry, hey? we'll find some way of making you useful.' and he turned to mary with that smile which i think that all human beings wear when they are doing some act of kindness. "i was so much pleased," continued oddity, "at this conclusion to the affair, that i ran out from my place beneath the chair. billy uttered a cry of surprise: "'there-- look! if that an't my own pretty spotted rat!'" here i rather rudely interrupted my piebald brother. "pretty! did he call you pretty? well, well, i shall be obliged to think you so myself, i suppose. spared by a man, petted by a woman, admired by a child,-- and all for your beauty,-- oddity's beauty!" i could not help laughing outright at the thought. "my ugliness has at least done me no harm," he replied, with a meekness which made me more ashamed of my rudeness than if he had fired up at my ridicule. "and so you live all together here?" said whiskerandos; "this farmer, his wife, the two boys, and you?" "yes, and we are as happy as the day is long." "humph!" said whiskerandos; "i should prefer my wild freedom; but it is different, i suppose, with man. and as for you, oddity, you were never like other rats; you were always intended for a watch-dog. and you really guard that can and parcel for hours, and resist the temptation to nibble?" "i am trusted," was the simple reply. "now, oddity," said i, "i should much like to see you in your new home, surrounded by all your human companions." "yonder is my master's house," answered oddity, pointing across the field with his nose. "you have but to clamber up to the window in the evening, and peep through the clustering roses, and you will see us all there together." "i'll have a peep," said whiskerandos, "and then off to old london again!" "you must take nothing from my master's house," cried oddity. "not a potato paring!" laughed our valiant companion. "and now i would advise you to be off," said my brother; "here's my master coming for his dinner." away we scampered at full speed, my light-footed comrade and i; for well we knew what was certain to be our fate if caught even by the kind-hearted farmer. we were only rats after all. [* in the course of a single year no less than _two thousand nine hundred and eighty-one pounds_ were honestly earned in this manner by boys connected with ragged schools!] chapter xxiii. a peep through the roses. that night, when the round harvest moon was throwing her soft light on the earth, we climbed up the rose-tree by the window, and, quietly pushing aside the fragrant flowers, peeped in upon such a scene as rarely meets the eye of a rat. there was a neat little kitchen, with a sanded floor and white-washed walls, so clean, so perfectly clean, that not even the sharp eyes of the race of mus could have detected a speck upon them. rows of plates lined the shelves on the wall, pans burnished till they shone like silver, a framed sampler hung over the mantelpiece, and a large clock merrily ticked behind the door. near the wide hearth there was a table, on which a substantial supper was spread on a cloth white as new-fallen snow. round this table were seated the farmer, his wife, and our two old friends, bob and billy, in their clean smock-frocks, with country roses on their once sickly and sunken cheeks. one might have read will grange's character in his kind, honest face; and his wife looked like a morning in may, all sweetness, brightness, and beauty,-- such beauty as is not merely skin-deep. the farmer tapped gaily on the table, and at the signal, oddity, whom i had not at first perceived, clambered up to his knee, and from thence jumped on the cloth, to be fed from his master's hand. he made his round of the party,-- every one had something to give him; and i heard the merry voice of billy as he patted his favourite's snub nose,-- "he's a pretty little fellow! now, an't he? i wonder what's become of the old blind rat that he used to lead about in the shed?" "whiskerandos," said i, pensively, to my companion, "i could almost wish myself in oddity's place!" "so do not i," he replied quickly, as he turned from the window. "one rat in ten millions may be petted and trusted, and show himself worthy of the trust; but our race was never intended by nature to hold the position of lap-dogs or cats." "and are we always to be hated by the lords of creation, never to be useful to man?" "we are useful to man," said my companion. "ah! in those places where he bakes us in pies, or makes hats or glove-thumbs of our poor skins. but in london--" "when you join me in london i will show you, friend ratto, how, by acting the part of a scavenger, and clearing away that which, if left, would poison the air, the race of mus does good service to man." "little man thanks us for it!" cried i. "well, bob," said the farmer, as he leant back in his chair, and watched, with an air of amusement, his piebald favourite nibbling at a nut, "is it true what my good wife here tells me, that the post this morning actually brought a letter for you?" "from master neddy," exclaimed bob, with sparkling eyes. "he's come back from russy, and so has his father, and they're so glad to be in old england again," cried billy, as in old times the most ready to speak. "the letter was sent first to the school,-- the dear old school!-- for they warn't to know that missus was married, and we so snug down here in the country. oh! won't they be pleased to hear it? and is it not good in them, after all their travels, not to forget poor boys like us? do you know, there was money in the letter?" he added, lowering his voice. "ah! captain blake did you some good turn, did he not?" said the farmer to bob. "he saved me from--" the boy coloured and paused,-- "from want, i suppose," said grange, ending his sentence for him, and stroking back oddity's sleek ears. "from worse," said bob, looking down. "not from death?" "worse than that," murmured the boy. "eh?" said the farmer, in surprise. "but for him what should i have been now! oh sir!" cried bob, suddenly raising his eyes, "i've often thought i should have told you this before,-- before you took me in here,-- me and my brother too,-- and treated us so kindly, and trusted us and all. you should have known what i was before that day when captain blake-- bless him for it!-- first took me into a ragged school." "my business is with what you are, not what you were," said the farmer, kindly; but bob did not seem to hear the interruption, for he continued, in an agitated voice, the tears rising into and then overflowing his eyes:-- "he found me a poor, ignorant, miserable creature, not knowing so much as that it was a sin to take what was not my own. he found me with no comfort and no hope, going on the broad way which leads to the prison and the gallows; and worse,-- worse beyond,-- i know that now. he found me a wretched thief, and he did not hate me, despise me, despair of me: he gave me a chance, he gave me a friend! blessings on him!-- he saved me from ruin!" here let me drop the curtain, here let me close my tale. these are feelings, these are scenes, into which higher beings alone can enter; they are too solemn for a story like mine. and here i and my companions divide;-- i to luxuriate for awhile in the plenty with which rich autumn crowns the fields around; my bold comrade to return to the city, and there, in new adventures, to display a sagacity and courage which even the lords of the creation would admire if belonging to any race but ours; oddity, in the happy home of his kind master, remains to share the board and the hearth,-- an instance that even a rat can show fidelity to man, where man can show mercy to a rat! perhaps the human race would despise us less proudly, and persecute us less severely,-- perhaps even boys would take less pleasure in torturing, worrying, and hunting us down,-- if our characters and instincts were better known. who can say that some truth may not be learned, some lesson of kindliness gained, even from a narration simple as mine,-- the history of the rambles of a rat. [decoration] * * * * * transcriber's note: "the family of mus" (chapter vii): by some classifications, all the animals that appear in this chapter are part of the superfamily _muroidea_ within the rodent family. german hamster: _cricetus cricetus_, the black-bellied hamster. _the european hamster is at least twice the size of the syrian or golden hamster. its personality is much as described._ musk-rat: _ondatra zibethicus_ lemming: _lemmus lemmus_ "... the musk cavy, which i have heard of as inhabiting ceylon and other places in the east" _possibly the hutia, _capromys pilorides_, although hutias are indigenous to the west indies, especially cuba, not asia._ errors and inconsistencies noted by transcriber: the inconsistent handling of nested quotes, with single ' or double " quotation marks for the inner quote, is unchanged. where two closing quotation marks are expected, only one was printed: ch. v. ... i will not lose sight of you, my friend." ch. xvii. ... father of the russian fleet." the word "invisible" means that the letter or punctuation mark is absent, but there is an appropriately sized empty space. ch. v. he told me that i was about a sin-- a great sin. [_text unchanged: missing words?_] ch. viii. "i looked at his meagre form clothed in rags [open " missing] how i should like to build one myself!" [close " missing] [* the reformatory in great smith street, westminster.] [. missing] ch. ix. to nibble at the hard polished crockery, [, invisible] ch. xvi. with quiet night came our feasting-time, [, invisible] ch. xvii. had both seen cannon and learnt their use, [. for ,] ch. xviii. above one half is shipped from st. petersburg." [close " missing] the place where such glorious mountains are to be found?" [_text unchanged: ? may be error for !_] ch. xxi. a hunch of bread and cheese beside it [_spelling unchanged_] ch. xxii. the farmer's terrible gripe [terribe gripe: _error corrected, archaic form retained_] "'and how do you earn it?' inquired the farmer. [farmer.'] my light-footed comrade and i [invisible hyphen at page-end] ch. ix, reconstructed text: a pair of facing pages are slightly damaged: pg : we therefore set out ... ["fore" obscured] dogs and cats in the streets ["he" in "the" reconstructed from facing page] pg : my good friends ... notwithstanding the darkness ... [word "good", "w" in "notwithstanding" reconstructed from facing page] observed that i have ... ["d" in "observed" invisible]