The Project Gutenberg eBook, Live Toys, by Emma Davenport This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: Live Toys Or, Anecdotes of Our Four-Legged and Other Pets Author: Emma Davenport Release Date: June 14, 2013 [eBook #42946] Language: English Character set encoding: UTF-8 ***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIVE TOYS*** Sandra Eder and and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by Internet Archive/American Libraries (http://archive.org/details/americana) and Google Books Library Project (http://books.google.com) Note: Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive/American Libraries. See http://archive.org/details/livetoysoranecdo00dave cover A pony BLUEBEARD, THE SHETLAND PONY. Page 85. LIVE T O Y S ; O R A N E C D O T E S O F O UR F O UR- LE G G E D A N D O T HE R P E T S . BY EMMA DAVENPORT, AUTHORESS OF "JAMIE'S QUESTIONS," "WEAK AND WILFUL," ETC. With Illustrations by Harrison Weir. LONDON: GRIFFITH AND FARRAN, (SUCCESSORS TO NEWBERY AND HARRIS,) CORNER OF ST. PAUL'S CHURCHYARD. M DCCC LXII. LONDON: PRINTED BY WERTHEIMER AND CO., CIRCUS PLACE, FINSBURY. TO LADY NEPEAN, THIS LITTLE VOLUME IS DEDICATED, AS CONTAINING TRUE ANECDOTES OF THE VARIOUS ANIMALS THAT WERE IN THE POSSESSION OF A LITTLE BOY AND GIRL, IN WHOM SHE HAS ALWAYS SHEWN A KIND INTEREST. CONTENTS. PAGE Moppy, the White Rabbit 1 The Two Birds, Goldie and Brownie 4 Poll Parrot 10 Neddy and the Rifle Donkey 19 Bunny, the Wild Rabbit 31 The Jackdaw 38 Pricker, the Hedgehog 50 Drake, the Retriever 55 Tawney, the Terrier 60 Puffer, the Pigeon 70 Dr. Battius, the Bat 75 The Chough 80 The Kittens, Blacky and Snowdrop 83 Bluebeard, the Shetland Pony 85 Joe, the German Dog 96 LIVE TOYS; OR ANECDOTES OF OUR FOUR-LEGGED AND OTHER PETS. MOPPY, THE WHITE RABBIT. The first Pet that we ever remember possessing was a large white rabbit. We were then very little children; and, being at the sea-side, we spent the greater part of the day on the shore, or rather on the broad esplanade, that stretched for full half-a-mile round the pretty bay. When we were quite tired of running there, or of picking up stones and weeds on the shingle below the esplanade wall, we were enabled to prolong our stay out of doors by means of the pretty little goat- carriages that were kept in readiness on the esplanade. Some of them were made with two seats; some were drawn by one goat, and some with two. There were reins and regular harness to these little goats, and we were indeed pleased, when our nurse allowed us to drive in one of the double-seated carriages. We took turns to sit in front and drive, and we tried hard to persuade our Mamma to let us have a goat, and a goat-carriage for ourselves. What a nice Pet that would have been! But Mamma said she could not take it about, as we travelled much, and also that a goat would butt at us and knock us down. Therefore we were obliged to be content with patting and coaxing the goats on the walk. During one of our drives in the goat-carriage, we met with a boy carrying a beautiful white creature with pink eyes; "Look! look! nurse," we cried, "what is that?" "It is a rabbit," she said, "would you like to stroke it?" and she took it out of the boy's hands, and held it close to us; we kissed it and stroked it, and buried our faces in its long white hair, felt its curious long ears, and wondered at the strange colour of its eyes. The boy said that a sailor gave it to him; but that his mother wished him to sell it, as it was troublesome in her small cottage, and they had no yard to keep it in, and he asked nurse if she would buy it from him. We earnestly begged that we might have it; "Do buy it, Mary," we cried; "please buy it." And, after some talking, Mary gave sixpence to the boy for the rabbit, and, my sister giving up her front seat and her reins to me, went home with the pretty creature in her lap. We called the rabbit Moppy; it was a source of great amusement to us. Mary contrived a bed for it in a large packing- box in an empty garret at the top of the house, and when we wished to play with it, it was brought down to the nursery. We always fed it from our hands. It became extremely tame, and would follow us about the room, and allow us to lift it and carry it in all sorts of strange ways; for we could not manage lifting it by the ears in the proper way. When it began to be tired of us, it used to get under the sofa, and when we dragged it out again it appeared angry and would kick with its hind legs, and make quite a loud knocking on the floor, with what we called its hind elbows. When this commenced, nurse usually carried it off to its box, fearing that it might bite, or else she covered it up in her lap, when it would remain asleep for some time. Now and then we took it with us when we drove in the little carriage, and it lay so snugly on our knees and kept us so warm. Before we had become at all weary of our plaything, or indifferent to its welfare, we removed to Ireland; and going first to visit grand-mamma, it was thought impossible to take Moppy, so after much consultation, nurse spoke to one of the little boys who kept the goats, and seemed to be a gentle good-natured lad, and with many instructions and requests that he would be most kind and careful to the poor little animal, we kissed and stroked our pet, and, burying our faces in its long white hair for the last time, we made him a present of beautiful soft Moppy. THE TWO BIRDS, GOLDIE AND BROWNIE. "Would you like to buy a bird, Sir?" said a poor woman to me one day when we were just setting out for our walk. She held in her hand a small cage with a beautiful goldfinch. "I have one shilling and sixpence," I said, "will you give it to me for that?" "I hoped to be able to sell it for half-a-crown," the woman said, "for I am very poor; I am leaving this place and want money for my journey, or I should not part with my bird." "But I have a shilling," said my sister, "and that added to your money will make half-a-crown, and so we can buy it between us and it will belong to us both." We gave our money to the poor woman, and she put the cage into my hand. The little bird was quite a beauty, his colours so bright, his plumage so glossy and thick, and his chirp so merry. After displaying him to Mamma, and to every body we met, we carried him to the nursery, and placed him on the broad window-seat; Mamma said she was afraid we should soon get tired of him, and neglect to feed him and to clean his cage. This, we thought, was quite unlikely. However, we promised very faithfully; and we commenced with feeding and petting him so much that he soon became extremely tame, would take seeds and crumbs from our fingers, chirp to us when we came near his cage, and sing without the least sign of fear. One day we had carried him into the drawing-room; and, on opening the door of the cage to put in some sugar, he darted out. "Oh dear! oh dear! Goldie is out," we exclaimed; "what shall we do? We shall lose him." But Mamma quickly got up, and shut both the windows and begged us to be quiet, and not to frighten him by rushing after him and attempting to seize him. "If you leave him alone," said Mamma, "he will perhaps allow you quietly to take him in your hand when he has flown about as much as he wishes; but he will lose all his tameness if you terrify him." So we sat down to watch the little fellow, he darted about the room for some time, and presently alighted on the table, where the breakfast things remained. First he pecked at the bread, then tried the sugar, peeped into the cups, and seemed highly amused at the different articles which he was now examining for the first time. Then he flew on the top of the picture frames that hung on the wall, then on the curtain rods, and at last perched on Mamma's head, peeped at her hair, and looked as proud and happy as possible. And after he had looked at every thing in the room and well stretched his wings, he quietly returned to his cage, chirping at us, as if to say, "I have seen enough for one day, I'll come out again to-morrow." So afterwards we used to give him a fly every morning, taking care to shut all the windows before his door was opened. We paid so much attention to our bird; that he did not seem to find his life at all dull, but he obtained a companion in an unexpected manner. Our nursery window was standing open, Goldie was in his cage on the table, and we were playing on the floor; suddenly my sister exclaimed, pointing to the window, "Goldie is out! Goldie is out!" and there indeed, perched on the window-sill, was a little bird, which for a moment we believed to be our own little pet. We gently approached the window. "Oh that is a brown bird," said I, "and look! Goldie is safe in his cage." Nurse now advised us to draw back from the window, for that if not frightened, the little stranger might possibly be attracted by the bird in the cage, and might come inside the window; so we retreated to the opposite side of the room, and watched the little fellow. In he hopped very cautiously, now and then making a little chirrup, and twisting his head in all directions, as if to discover with his sharp black eyes, whether there was anything or anybody likely to hurt him; now he came on a chair-back, and then becoming bolder, ventured on the table. When Goldie saw him, he left his seed box at which he had been very busy, and hopping about his cage in a most excited mannere began to chirrup as loudly as he could, and shaking his tails up and down, he seemed to express his great joy at the sight of the little brown visitor. Nurse quietly passed round the room and shut the window, "Now we have him safe," we cried, dancing about. "Pray be still, my dears," said nurse, "until we get him into the cage." So we again became immoveable, and there was the brown stranger peeping at Goldie through the bars, perhaps wishing to partake of the seed and sugar, and fresh groundsel that Goldie had been enjoying. He was a delicately shaped thin little bird, all his feathers of a pretty dark brown, he did not appear to be much frightened when nurse approached, nor did he leave the table when she opened the door of the cage; but on the contrary, he peeped in, and receiving a very civil chirp of invitation from Goldie, he actually hopped in to our extreme delight. We ran to display our treasure to Mamma. She was quite amused at our having caught him in so strange a manner, and said that she thought he was a linnet, or some such kind of bird. He was evidently a tame bird that had been much petted. He soon accommodated himself to all Goldie's habits, came regularly to breakfast, and took his fly afterwards, all about the room, resting occasionally on our heads or shoulders. Brownie would now hop on our fingers, when we wished to take him up from the floor; and this we had never been able to teach to Goldie. The two birds were very good friends, excepting when an unusually nice bit of groundsel or plantain excited a quarrel between them; then they scolded, fluttered, and pecked at each other in a very savage manner. We had a sliding partition made to the cage, and when they began to dispute, we punished them by sliding in this partition and separating them for a short time. They used to look quite unhappy, moping in their solitude, until we made them happy again, by withdrawing the partition. These little birds went many journeys with us, even crossed to England, and back again to Ireland, and lived with us for a long time; and I suppose we became rather careless about open windows and doors, knowing that the birds were so very tame, and had no wish to fly away. We were the following summer in another place. There our rooms were confined and small; so we used to allow the birds to fly about on the staircase every morning, in order to give them a larger range for using their wings. One bright summer morning, Goldie flew out on the landing; and as he had invariably come back again to his cage, we were not noticing him much, and never perceived that the servant had gone down stairs, leaving open the door at the bottom of the flight, just outside of which door, was an open window. Presently we went to see for him, and it was some moments before we spied him sitting on the ledge of this open window. If we had made no exclamation, and placed the cage on the stairs, most probably he would have returned; but perhaps we startled him by running down the stairs towards him. Out he went so rapidly and yet so gently, in the bright fresh air, as if he would say, "Liberty and sunshine, and freedom of flight in the summer sky, is too delightful to refuse, even for you, my dear little master and mistress." He perched on a high tree and looked at us for a while. In vain we strewed crumbs about the window, and called and whistled. In vain we set his cage on the ledge with his deserted companion in it, hoping that hearing Brownie's chirp would entice him to return. He never came back again, and Brownie occupied the cage for many months; our care of him being greater than ever, since we lost our other favourite. But Brownie's end was much more tragic. We were going away on a visit for some weeks; and it was decided that Brownie was not to go, but that he should live in the kitchen until we returned. There was a huge cat living in the barracks. We always had been in dread of her, and had tried to make her afraid of entering our door; but whilst we were away, she one day found all the doors open, and peeping into the kitchen, and seeing no protecting servant there, she seized our dear little pet, and soon destroyed him. When we returned home, there was nothing but the empty cage. POLL PARROT. We were staying for some months at a seaport town in France, many vessels used to come in from different parts of the world; and I suppose the sailors brought with them all sorts of animals and birds, for the houses looking on the quay where the vessels were moored were almost entirely shops of birds, monkeys, etc., etc. It was most amusing to walk along the quay, and look at all the live creatures that were there exposed for sale. Such a chattering of monkeys of all shapes and sizes, such a twittering and singing from every imaginable species of small birds, such a screaming and chattering from the parrots and macaws, and such fun in peeping into the cages of white mice and ferrets. We often wished very much to buy a monkey; but Mamma did not fancy it, and said they were uncertain ill-tempered beasts, and that we should be constantly bitten if we had one. First, we longed for this bird, then for that squirrel, then for a cage of white mice, and so on; indeed I believe we quite tormented Mamma with requests to walk along the quay of animals, as we called it. At last we set our affections upon a grey parrot, the smoothest and handsomest among the large number exposed for sale. We never heard her say anything, it is true; but we thought that an advantage, as she would not have learnt to swear and talk like the sailors, and we should teach her to say just what we pleased. The price of the parrot was rather high, because of her size and beauty, and we longed for her many weeks before we were her masters; but at last she was placed in our possession as a new year's gift, and, in addition, a nice cage with a swing, and tin dishes for her food, all the wood work being carefully bound with tin, to secure it from her formidable beak. Cage and parrot were carried with us on our return to England, and she soon became a great pet. She was not at first very tame; but by much petting, and by leaving the door of her cage constantly open, so that she did not feel herself a prisoner, she gradually became more friendly. The first sign of love to any of us was after my sister's short absence of a few days at a friend's house. When she returned, we were talking together in the hall, and Poll's cage being in an adjoining room, she heard her voice, and recognising it, she came down from her cage, and gave notice of her arrival at my sister's feet by her usual croak; she flapped her wings, and gave every sign of pleasure at seeing her again. She did not, however, extend her amiability to any one but myself, sister, and Mamma; she was still savage to strangers, and would bite fiercely if touched, but if we offered our wrists, she would step soberly on, allow us to scratch her head, stroke her back, push back her feathers to look at her curious little ears, and in return she would lay her beak against our cheeks, and make a clucking noise as if she meant to kiss us. She used to waddle all about the room with her turned-in toes, and climbed up tables and chairs just as she pleased. She would get upon Mamma's knee by scrambling up her dress, holding it tight in her beak. When we were writing or drawing, she enjoyed sitting on the table, though she meddled sadly with our things, biting our pencils in pieces, tearing paper, and so on, and once in particular, she terrified us for her own safety by opening every blade of a sharp penknife, and flourishing it about in her claws as if in triumph. We had some difficulty in getting it from her grasp without cutting ourselves or hurting her. She was a famous talker, called us all by name, whistled and barked when the dog came into the room; called "Puss, puss!" and mewed when the cat showed itself, sang several bits of songs, and asked for fruit and food of different sorts. We never could teach her to sing through a whole tune. I never heard a parrot get beyond a few bars; and I wonder what is the reason that they will learn the commencement of half-a-dozen different songs, but still cannot remember any whole. I do think a parrot's voice and utterance is one of the most extraordinary of things, for it always repeats a word in the peculiar voice of the person who taught it; and, instead of closing its beak or touching the roof of its mouth with its tongue, in order to articulate, it invariably opens its mouth wide when it speaks, and its tongue is never used at all; yet it will pronounce m's, b's, p's, and t's as plainly as any human being. We could always tell who had taught our Poll any word or song, from the similarity of voice that she adopted. Her sleeping-place was for some time on the top of a chair-back in my sister's bedroom. When we were leaving the sitting-room to go upstairs at night, Poll used to waddle down from the cage and come to my sister, who held her wrist down for her to mount, and having been conveyed upstairs and placed on the floor, she mounted of her own accord to her sleeping perch, gave all her feathers a good shake, and settled her head for the night. Very early in the morning, she used to commence her toilet. Such scratchings and smoothings of her feathers, such picking and cleaning of her feet and legs; and having arranged her dress for the day, she would come down, take a turn or two about the room, and then look at my sister to see if she were awake. If not stirring, Poll used to clamber up on the bed by means of the curtain or counterpane, get quietly on the pillow, and examine her eyes closely. If no wink was perceptible, Poll would gently and cautiously lift up an eyelid, pinching it softly in her beak, then go to the other eye and do the same; then she would wait a little bit, saying, "Hey? hey?" as if to ask whether her mistress was not yet properly roused. Then she would again work away at the eyelids, till my sister could no longer refrain from laughing. She used to feign being asleep every morning, in order to amuse herself with Poll's proceedings. I wished to try having my eyelids opened by Poll in the same manner, and one night took the bird into my own room; but she did not approve of this change of quarters, and instead of going quietly to sleep, made such a croaking and grinding of teeth on her chair-back, that I was glad to carry her back to my sister's room. Indeed, although she was very friendly with me, she did not manifest the same attachment as towards my sister and mother, apparently preferring ladies' society. While Poll was with us, we went another journey into France, and took the parrot with us in a basket. It was a stormy night when we crossed from Southampton, and Poll in her basket was placed at the foot of my sister's berth, and no further attention was paid her. The cabin was very full of people, and numbers had to lie on the floor, there not being sufficient berths or sofas. In the middle of the night, the inmates of the ladies' cabin were all startled by a scream from an old lady who was stretched on the floor. "Stewardess! Here! Here! Some dreadful thing is biting me. I have received a shocking bite on the leg. Do search for the creature, whatever it is." So the stewardess came and looked, and could find nothing. My sister, who had looked out of her shelf at the old lady's cry, immediately divined what it was, seeing that Poll's basket had rolled off the berth to the floor, and she having gnawed a hole in the basket, had put out her beak and bitten the first thing with which it came in contact. When the stewardess came to look for the monster, the basket had rolled, with the motion of the ship, to the other side of the cabin, and not finding a sea voyage pleasant, she put forth her beak again. "Oh! bless me! What can that be?" cried another passenger. "Something bit me. Do find it, stewardess." Then came another lurch, and away rolled Poll in her basket; and no one suspected a rather shabby old basket of containing anything but perhaps a pair of slippers, or a brush and comb, or some such articles. So poor Poll rolled about in her prison, inflicting bites on several legs and arms, my sister meanwhile in agonies of laughter on her shelf, and not daring to say who was the real offender, lest Poll should be turned out of the cabin. At last the stewardess said that she supposed it must be rats, and she ran away at the entreaties of the poor victims on the floor to fetch the steward to search for the rats. Whilst she was gone, my sister slipped down from her berth, and took possession of Poll's basket. She had scarcely retreated with it in safety, when the stewardess returned with the steward; and rather an angry altercation ensued, the man insisting that there was not a rat in the ship, and the injured passengers insisting that sharp bites could not be made by nothing at all. However, after a long dispute, he begged them all to move from the floor, and made a regular search. My sister was all the time in the greatest alarm, lest Poll should think proper to croak or sing "Nix my dolly," or otherwise to make known her presence. As luck would have it, however, Poll was either too sea-sick or too angry to say anything, and the steward announced that no live thing was in the cabin, and that the ladies had been dreaming. "But bites in a dream, don't bleed," retorted an angry old lady, holding up to view a pocket handkerchief which indeed wore a murderous appearance. This being unanswerable, the steward could only shrug his shoulders and retreat from the Babel of voices in the ladies' cabin; and soon after, my sister had the pleasure of landing, with Poll undiscovered and safe in her old basket, and we are ignorant whether the old lady ever found out what it was that had bitten her. During our journey, Poll often caused great amusement, by suddenly shouting or singing as we were jogging along in a diligence or slowly steaming on a river, thereby astonishing and alarming our fellow passengers; nor did she forget, when occasion offered, to make good use of her strong beak. At one place we were entering a town late at night, and the place being a frontier town, our luggage was all strictly examined by the custom-house officers before we were permitted to enter the gates. All having been passed and paid for, we remounted the diligence; my sister was the last. She had her foot on the step, when one of the men rudely pulled her back, asking why she had not shown her basket. She said there was nothing in it but a bird, but the man declared he must look; and seeing that my sister was unwilling to open it, he imagined there was something valuable and contraband in it, so roughly dragging it out of her hands, he tore open the lid, and thrust in his hand. Poll gave a loud croak, and the man rather quickly withdrew his hand, with a thousand vociferations at the bird and the basket and my sister. I must confess I was delighted to see that Poll had made her beak nearly meet in the surly fellow's finger. When my sister had regained her basket, and we had left the gate, we lavished much praise on Poll for her discriminating conduct on this occasion. She would not have bitten my hand had I put it into the basket; how did she know that the hand was a stranger's? When we arrived at our destination in the south of France, Poll enjoyed the novelty as much as any one. Now she revelled in the abundance of oranges and other fruits, eating just the best part, and flinging away the rest with lavish epicurism. And how she basked in the hot sun, and climbed about the cypress and olive trees in the garden, biting the bark and leaves, and almost I think believing that she was again in her wild birth-place, wherever that may have been! She accompanied us in safety on our homeward journey, went to Ireland with us; and whenever we travelled, Poll went too. At one time she took an erroneous notion into her head, that she could fly; now this was an impossibility, for her wings were very short and small, and her body very large and heavy. Whether this had chanced from her unnatural life in a house, or from early cutting of her wings, I do not know, but she could not support herself in the air, even from the table to the ground. However, she thought she could, and on one occasion she tried to fly, when perched on the top bannister of a large well staircase of four flights. Down she came like a lump of lead on the floor below, and when we ran to pick her up, poor Poll was gasping, lying on her back, with her eyes rolling about in a fearful manner. We thought she would die, but we put some water in her mouth, blew in her face and did what we could to revive her, and gradually she recovered. But this lesson was lost upon her. A few days after, she tried to fly out of a window on the first floor, and came down in the same heavy way, on the flagged pavement before the door. This time her head was wounded, and bled, and she seemed stupid for some days after; but she recovered and lived long after that. Probably these falls had injured her brain, for at last she began to tumble off her perch, as if giddy, and then her head swelled very much, and she died in a sort of fit. I have seen other parrots who were better talkers than ours; but I never saw one so tame, and so fond of her own master and mistress, she used to come to meet us like a dog, when we came into the house, after being absent for walks or rides, knew our times for rising and going to bed, called us separately by our names, and really showed much intelligence. Birds, in general, are, I think rather stupid, and do not understand anything, but what their own instinct tells them; but parrots seem to know the meaning of the words they learn: and if others do not, I am sure that our Poll did. NEDDY, AND THE RIFLE DONKEY. Our next pet was a very different creature. One of our aunts had sent us some money as a present; and I and my sister had many consultations as to what we should do with it. At last we hit upon an idea that charmed us both, and we ran to our Mamma. "Oh Mamma, we cried, do you think our money will buy a donkey? We saw the other day, a little boy and girl both riding upon a donkey, it trotted along so nicely with them, and the little boy at the other side of the square has a donkey, and we should like it so very much." Then Mamma said that a donkey would be of no use unless we could also buy a saddle and bridle; and besides that, she must enquire where he could graze, or whether there was any spare stall in which he could live. These things had not occurred to us; but we went to Papa, and begged him to find out where our donkey could live in case we had one. Now there was a large sort of waste field adjoining the Barrack Square; a few sheep and some old worn-out horses were kept in it, but I believe it was not used for anything else. We sometimes ran and played there, and there was a pond in it, into which we were very fond of flinging large cobble stones. Papa found that he could easily obtain leave for our donkey to graze there, and it was of such extent, that it could find there quite sufficient food; so that difficulty was done away with. Then we made enquiry about the price of donkeys. We talked one day to the nurse of the little boy and girl who rode together. She did not know what their donkey cost, but told us that she knew a little boy who bought a young donkey, when it was scarcely able to stand, and so small, that he had it in his nursery, where it lay on the rug before the fire, and was quite a playfellow to him. We thought we should like a tiny donkey to play with in the house; but Mamma persuaded us that it would be much pleasanter to have one that we could ride. Papa heard of a donkey we could buy for one pound, it came to be looked at, and we liked its appearance much; it was in very good condition, its coat thick and smooth, and not rubbed in any place. Our other pound supplied us with a sort of soft padded saddle and bridle; the pommels took off, so that either of us could use the saddle, and happy indeed was the morning, when Neddy was brought to the door for us. I had the first ride, and, owing to a peculiarity in Neddy's manners, I soon had my first tumble. We proceeded across the square very nicely, and were about to cross a large gutter, along which a good deal of water was rushing. I had no idea that Neddy would not quietly step over it; but he had an aversion to water, and coming close to the gutter, he made a great spring and leapt over it; the sudden jerk tossed me off his back, and Papa catching me by the collar of my dress, just prevented me from going headlong into the water. And we found that Neddy always jumped over a puddle, or any appearance of water; sometimes a damp swampy place in the road, was enough to set him springing. But when we knew that this was his custom, we were prepared for it, and had no more falls; we rode in turns, and sometimes I got on behind my sister, and many nice long rides we had all about the fields and lanes. When we returned home, we took off the saddle and bridle at the door, and gave Neddy a pat; away he scampered through the open gateway into the field, flinging up his heels with pleasure. We could see all over the field and the square from our windows, and soon found it extremely amusing to watch the proceedings of our Neddy and another donkey. This donkey belonged to a little boy, who also lived in the square; he did not often ride upon it, but it followed him about more in the manner of a large dog. It had learned how to open the latches of the doors, and could go up and down stairs quite well. Our Mamma went one day to see the little boy's Mamma, and when she opened the door of their house she was much surprised to find the donkey's face close to her's, and she was obliged to give him a good push to get past him. When we heard this, we used to watch for the donkey going in and out, and soon we saw him go into the field and make friends with Neddy. They held their heads near together and seemed to be whispering; then they would trot about a little while, then whisper again. We supposed that the strange donkey was telling Neddy what fun he had in going into the different houses and getting bits to eat from the inhabitants, and instructing him how to bray under such and such windows when cooking was going on. For Neddy soon began to follow his friend about, and to imitate everything that he did. We did not know the name of the other donkey, so we called him the Rifle donkey, because his little master's Papa belonged to a rifle regiment. Neddy was an apt pupil, for soon after the conversations between the two donkeys had begun, we were seated one evening at tea, when we heard an extraordinary clattering upon the staircase, we listened and wondered, as it became louder. The staircase came up to the end of a long passage, which led to our doors, and when the clattering reached the passage I exclaimed, "I do believe it is the donkey coming up stairs." We rushed to the door, and looked out. Yes, indeed, the Rifle donkey and Neddy were quietly pacing along the passage. We were thoroughly charmed at Neddy's cleverness in mounting two long flights of stairs, and when we had given them each a piece of bread, and patted and coaxed them, they turned away to go down again, the Rifle donkey leading the way. He managed very well indeed, but Neddy made rather awkward work with his hind legs; however, he managed to reach the bottom without throwing himself down. Next they went under the windows of the adjoining house, and the Rifle donkey began to bray loudly, Neddy copied him in his most sonorous tones, and presently a window was opened and a variety of little bits of food were thrown out, which they ran to pick up. They came every morning to this window, and the officer who lived there always answered their call, by throwing something out to them. When he shut his window, they quietly went away, and about the middle of the day, when luncheons and dinners were going on, they would go to other windows about the square, and bray for food. Neddy always walked behind the other, and did not bray till he began. Sometimes there were clothes laid out to dry by the washer-women on a piece of grass, behind the houses. This supplied great amusement to the donkeys, for as soon as the women went away they would run to the grass, take up the clothes in their mouths, fling them up in the air, tread upon them, tear them, and even used to eat some of the smallest things, such as frills and pocket-handkerchiefs. But this was really too mischievous, as the poor women suffered for their fun. No one would believe them, when they said that such a missing handkerchief had been eaten by donkeys, or that such a piece of lace or a collar had been bitten and torn by the same tiresome creatures. I well remember some of our shirts coming home half eaten, and our Mamma then advised the washer-women to have a boy, with a good thick stick, to watch the drying ground, and to desire him to belabour them well if they attempted to touch any of the clothes. This advice was followed, so that piece of fun was in future denied to the donkeys. But, I and my sister highly disapproved of this system; we thought that we would much rather have our shirts eaten, or indeed all our clothes torn than allow Neddy to be beaten with a stick, to say nothing of the great amusement it gave us, to see the two queer animals rushing about among the wet things, entangling their feet in them, and sometimes trotting off into the square with a night-cap or a stocking sticking on their noses. However, we still took great interest in their proceedings even without the poor washerwomen's clothes; for being deprived of that game, they began to plague the soldiers at the guard room. It had a sort of colonnade in front, supported by pillars, and the Rifle donkey found that it was very diverting to rush head first at the men who were standing under the colonnade. If they tried to strike him, he used to dodge round a pillar, and then rush at them again from the other side. Often he singled out one man for his attacks, and then Neddy assisted his friend, by biting at the same man from behind, but he was not nearly so active in evading punishment as the Rifle donkey, and received many a buffet and kick during these encounters. Sometimes the soldiers punished them by getting on their backs. This, however, was not to be borne, and cling as tightly as they could, the donkeys never failed to fling them off, when they would return to the charge with renewed vigour. These games of bo-peep, and so forth, apparently amused the men quite as much as ourselves, and many a half-hour have we sat in our stair-case window-seat, watching the antics of the donkeys and the soldiers. Their play usually ended by the Rifle donkey receiving a harder rap on the nose than he deemed pleasant, then he would fling up his heels, and with a most unearthly yell, gallop off to the field, closely followed by the sympathising Neddy, who imitated in his best fashion both the yell and the fling of his heels. A donkey NEDDY, AND THE RIFLE DONKEY. Page 25. We were going to leave the barracks, and move to another part of Ireland; and just before we went, the two donkeys got into a terrible scrape. Indeed, it was very well that we did go away; for they were becoming so extremely mischievous and so cunning, that they would soon have become too tiresome; and although we were charmed with every trick they played, almost all the grown-up people thought them a great torment; and the Rifle-donkey had become a great deal more active and monkey-like, since Neddy had followed and copied him. I suppose he felt proud