 Section 1 of True Stories About Pets edited by Jane Grey Swissholm This is a Libythox recording. All Libythox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit Libythox.org Chapter 1 Two Pet Lions by Amanda B. Harris If any of my readers should have occasion to call at a certain house in Boston, number 54 Howard Street, close by the Revere House, and should be shown into the family sitting room, they should notice the very first thing, a curious arrangement for such a place. Certainly it is very queer in a prettily carpeted and furnished room of the kind where the household are in the habit of gathering to sow and read and chat, and where guests are received to see a grated door and lying at the threshold just beyond it, as much at home as two puppies or kittens, two large lions. But there we saw them, and in that room they live. Members of the family one might almost say all the year round, except as they are let out into a little yard to spend a part of each day. The walls of their room are brick, the floor is wood, and it is as large as a good-sized sleeping room, so do they have plenty of space to stroll about in. The door is made of a few strong wire bars and fastens on the outside by a sort of hasp, and they have one window looking out into the long narrow alley, which is their own yard. It is a passageway, a few feet wide with a high wall at the front end and high brick walls on each side, refines and pretty green things growing upon the edge, and it is open at the top the whole length, so they have the fresh air, the blue sky, and the sunshine when they are out there. These lions are a little more than two years old, not yet fully grown, but great, tall, long, strong creatures even now. They are not brother and sister, for each one came from a different litter and are the only ones that lived. The father and mother of one are dead. The two other parents, real African lions brought over in a ship, are living now and travelling about the country in a menagerie. The little ones were born in New York, and the lady who shows them to you, whose husband was a showman, took them under her care at once and called them, her babies, and she speaks to them about their mamma, and they understand her and kiss her, lapping her face and whining softly as a kitten does. She brought them up and no one else had any charge of them. They used to lie in her lap and slept on her bed at night until they were quite large. One she named Willie and the other Martha, and she talks to them and pets them with no more fear of them than if they were dogs or cats. She used to let them come into the sitting room, but since they are so grown, people who go to the house are a little in fear of them, so that the grating is now always kept shut. But the creatures seem to love to come and lie down as close to it as they can get where they can see the family and be near them, and there they will stretch themselves out and lie in the most satisfied manner. Nobody goes inside their room but this lady, Mrs Lincoln, and nobody else feeds them or does anything for them. She gives them each day 12 pounds of beef, not always sirloin steak, she said, but good meat and always beef, because that is the most helpful for them and keeps them in perfect condition. No other kind of food is allowed them. One of them had a bone playing with it and licking it. I could not help asking what would happen if the beautiful maltese and white kitten that was fiddling about the room should stray within reach of Willie's great, quick paw. But Mrs Lincoln said they had always had a cat there and nothing had fallen her. She knew better than to go near the grating. The lady took a little ratten in her hand, opened the door and walked in. Willie was lying just under her feet and she said get up sir and roll over and he obeyed. Something else that she asked him to do he seemed to feel rather lazy about and she gave him a rap, after which he appeared to be very sorry and made a plaintive little whine and reached up his great head and kissed her as if to coax her, at which she said yes, kiss mamma, which made him happy. She made him stand up on his hind feet and stretched his forepaws up as high as he could. She put her hand in his mouth between his long sharp teeth and patted him on the head. Then he came back to the door and laid down again, growling a little, perhaps with satisfaction that it was over with. She says they never attempted to harm her and she has no fear that they ever will. She has been with them ever since they were born and they love her. While we were there a young lady who used to live in the family came in and went right up to the grating, got down on the floor and Willie put up his face and kissed her through the bars. He was so glad to see her. Marfa remains more quiet, though she looks as if she has spirit enough and would do her part in the tricks when called on. Probably no sight can be seen anywhere else in this country or in the world as these two tame lions living with a woman on such companionable terms and wholly under her control. Any visitors can see them but it is expected that they will pay a small fee for doing so or buy a photograph of the lions which is for sale. The picture given here is one of the lady and her strange pets out of several attitudes in which Mr. Black, the photographer, took them. Perhaps you'll wonder, as I did, where Mr. Black took the pictures and how he managed to do it and to keep them so still and attentive. For you see, they're both very alert and gazing earnestly at something. In answer to these questions, their mistress told me that she had them out in a sort of yard beyond the alley and the photographer attracted their attention to some object and so secured these admirable likenesses. There is no way of getting out of their own quarters except through the sitting room and through that Mrs. Lynn looks them day after day to their playground out of doors. Imagine being a visitor at the house or a caller and having these enormous, sharp, toothed, big, poor pets passing, unmuzzled and unchained past you. Probably you would make a hasty retreat and not stop until there was a closed door between yourself and them. The last time I was there, hoping to see them playing out in the sunshine, she had just taken them in that she might have the washing hung out to dry in their alley. Perhaps it is not so strange that she has no fear for she brought these and three others, five little welps like puppies from New York in her lap and nursed them up. The others died as you already know on a bottle such as babies are fed from until they knew how to lap the milk from a dish and on milk they were fed from her own hand until they could eat meat. They are fed now only once a day at noon and not at all on Sunday, such being the regulation in menageries she informed me. In addition to this they have water once a day and at night they sleep on the bare boards. They play with each other like kittens and sometimes they roar like they're kind in a savage state. Marfa is the most quiet but she has keen, watchful eyes and they both look up sharply when the doorbell rings and a new footstep is heard. Indeed all their perceptions seem acute. Large sums have been offered for them for there is not such a case known in the world as two tame lions kept by a woman. She has not yet decided what she shall do with them but it seems quite probable that someday when they are full grown and Willie has become a more ferocious looking creature with a great shaggy mane falling over his neck and a terrible voice they will be exhibited about the country the wonder of everybody by their resolute and affectionate mistress. Someday they will be very famous. End of chapter 1 Recording by Roof Section 2 of True Stories About Pets edited by Jane Gray Swiss Home This is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by John Patrick Henry Chapter 2 Punch by Brecken Punch is a mockingbird, mine where you'd pass my house on a warm morning you would hear him mocking the crows and the jays, the robins and the thrushes and the Orioles and the Martins and the big rooster and the little one and the Bantam barking and whinnying and squealing and cackling and pounding and mooing and buying all before you could get out of hearing distance he tries hard to sing Yankee Doodle and sometimes succeeds very well then again he fails most laughably he can say what what very distinctly also no I say to him punch you're an old darling aren't you and he looks at me and he says no he often gets in such a glee of singing that he sings while he stands in his bath dish while I was holding him lightly in my hand of a bright day he runs all over the floor singing and dancing and spreading his wings now lighting on my head just long enough to give his loudest whistle then off again stopping his song long enough to catch a crumb of bread as I toss it toward the ceiling he likes attention and doesn't approve when I notice the other pets of the household the other day I gave the red bird some little dainty and punch was all curiosity in regard to it he peeped between the wires of the cage on one side ran to the other side and looked in then up on top of the cage and looked in and then flew down and picked my fingers with all his might as much as to say I'll teach you to feed other birds my lady take that and that and that he knows that one particular round box is kept for worms and bugs and whenever he sees it he rushes to it upsets it and flutters over it teasing to have it open if he sees me come into the room with one hand closed he thinks at once there's a bug flies to me looking at me with the saucy rogue that he is his greatest dainty is now what do you think candy no nuts he likes peanuts pretty well but there's something better you can't guess well then I'll tell you spiders and the blacker larger and more horrible the better he likes them I start out every morning and hunt for them long practice has made me an expert I know just where to look for them and can even catch them with my bare fingers and carry them to punch in triumph and how much they wiggle that is what punch thinks I made for I dare say to catch his spiders one day last summer I saw a little boy sitting on the steps watching punch with eyes so full of wonder that they were as round as marbles punch was delighted to have so attentive a listener he whistled and sung and crowed his loudest and best presently the little boy evidently thought if such a might of a bird could crow exactly like a rooster a small boy ought to be able to do it too so he crowed and such a crow was sure that there was a laugh out in the barnyard punch put his head on one side and looked down at the boy in silence after thinking a little he crowed just as nicely and slowly as he could and then gave a knowing little look at the boy which meant there that's the way it's done try again boy I thought he was a wise bird or he never would have known that the boy was trying to crow and how he does like to tease my other birds when Bob the thrush takes a bath he pretends he wants to bathe very badly too in fact cannot wait a minute he drops on the side of the pan greatly to Bob's displeasure and then gets behind Bob and shakes and flutters his wings and goes through all Bob's motions so comically and Bob growls and grumbles and looks daggers at him and when he can endure it no longer makes punch fly for his life punch thinks that is jolly fun I'm sorry to say he has any failings but he has for instance he teases his pretty fluffy little sister Pearl until life is a burden to her if in the cage with her she jumps slightly while singing and catches her by her poor little foot and throws her down she shrieks wildly as she goes while I rush to the rescue Pearl sings well but punch discourages her he mocks her in the most disagreeable way just enough like her to let the folks know what he is doing and to make her ashamed he prefers to do himself what singing is necessary and when he gets very tired of everything else he sits down and sings sometimes he sings all night well it is funny to wake up in the night and hear him crowing perhaps a dozen times in succession his memory is remarkable showing itself mostly in mischief however more than a year ago his mate carried a stick and some threads to the clock shelf as she thought of making a nest there and ever since punch has insisted that there is a nest there and when I put my hand to the shelf he flies at me and picks with his bill and makes every sharp claw go into my hand as he bounds up and down like a rubber ball when I sit down and point my finger at him this is the way he looks End of Section 2 Recording by John Patrick Henry Section 3 of True Stories About Pets edited by Jane Gray Swishelm This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Alan R. Tate Bedford, Massachusetts Some Trained Canaries by J. Sever Here, Dick, pretty little pet the words accompanied by that peculiar chirping whistle so often used in attracting the attention of birds were echoed by the sweet warbling of a beautiful little canary who flew from his cage and perched upon the outstretched hand of a clever adept at the art of magic and engaged for some time in annotating a large audience among which the writer was fortunate enough to have secured a place The magician or pressed the digitator as he was styled on the large illuminated placards in front of the theater entrance having welcomed the bird with a fond kiss announced that he would now give his little pets of which there was a large cage full upon the table near at hand an opportunity of amusing the spectators with some tricks that had been taught them Having thus briefly introduced his trained canaries he directed the attention of the spectators to a miniature tightrope erected on the table near the cage in which the birds were merrily singing it was constructed like the tightrope one sees sometimes at the circus the rope itself being stretched across the forked points with two props about a foot apart from each other and fastened to the table so as to present the outline of a gabled farmhouse roof the spectators having examined the rope the magician caused Dick to hop from his hand to the table pick up a tiny silk flag with a coy daintiness that was very croquetish and at a certain signal fly with it in his beak he then fastened another flag in the prop farthest from Dick and made another sign to the bird no sooner was a given than Dick still holding the first flag in his beak walked slowly up the tightrope with solemn dignity lifting one foot after the other with all the care and precision of a real acrobat and having at length reached the farthest prop caught the flag fastened there with one of his feet and balancing himself on one leg turned his head from side to side causing the flag in his beak to wave as a signal of his capture of the enemies banner the trick finished Dick at a sign from his master flew back to the cage when he had gone the magician placed on the table a tiny open carriage and announced that some of his pets would next enjoy their evening drive to the park with that he gave a peculiar whistle which was answered instantly by a little canary who flew to him warbling a few glad notes of welcome that echoed sweetly through the hall the magician took the bird tenderly in his hands and with much dexterity fitted on his body a small dress coat and vest cloth which were kept in place by means of an elastic band that fastened around the bird's throat he next placed on his head a miniature beaver hat that almost rivaled the neatness and polish the hat of a grown-up gentleman of fashion his costume was completed by fitting on a pair of loose trousers after which he was placed on the right-hand seat of the carriage where he sat with a staid dignity that might have done honour to a veritable millionaire having finished the bird's toilet the magician whistled again and a second canary flew to him whom he in turn attired in a tiny lady's carriage costume to the fit and set of which I fear the majority of my young lady readers would take a most decided exception her canary ship however seemed quite satisfied with the garment at least she did not struggle against having it put on or give any other evidence of displeasure while her head was decked in a little bonnet with a most bewitching feather that must surely have made sad havoc among the hearts of the more susceptible young gentleman canaries if they saw it while promenading the drive her toilet having been completed by her husband again the magician whistled and once more the signal was responded to by a canary who in a jiffy was dressed in a tiny suit of loose fitting livery with gilt buttons and cockaded beaver everything in fact accepting the time-honoured yellow-topped boots the gilt buttons however were mere empty deceptions for the entire suit coat, vest, and trousers fastened from behind with a ribbon the little footman's beaver having been fastened carefully on his head he was perched up behind his master and mistress on the seat set aside for footmen such as may be seen on any fashionable carriage there was now only wanting a team to complete the grand turnout and this was soon furnished by two more canaries who were quickly harnessed to the carriage by means of tiny leather bands fastened to little collars which were placed around their necks a whip was then placed at the side of the dashboard and two pairs of reins fastened to the collars of the team and put in the beak of the bird millionaire everything being now in readiness for the start the magician gave signal and away went the canary team in fine style dragging the carriage after them the whole presenting so capital of picture in miniature of a genuine carriage in bays bowling along the fashionable promenade that the spectators broke forth in loud applause which the magician acknowledged on behalf of the little birds by a graceful bow when the carriage had driven entirely around the table the team wheeled about and returned home where they were unharnessed and the occupants of the carriage taken out undressed and all five permitted to fly back to their cage after the birds had retired the magician announced that a more tragic performance which he called the fate of a trader would follow he called the canary to him and with the same dexterity he had before shown in arranging the riding costumes of the other birds soon dressed him in a suit of military clothes in which he presented so fine and martial in appearance with plummed hat epaulets and navy blue coat and trousers that one would scarcely think he would have consented to act the part of a trader for such was the character the magician intended he should play having told the spectators in a few words the story of how the soldier bird had deserted his colors and played the part of a spy for the enemy the magician began the preparations for his punishment by erecting upon the table a small pole on top of which was fastened a seat similar to that which formed part of the ancient instrument of torture called the ducking stool in this seat he placed the requerient bird and then brought out a toy cannon made of brass which he loaded in the presence of the spectators with a heavy charge of powder having fixed the fuse he placed the piece in position some distance from the pole so that though it was discharged directly at the ladder the bird in the seat would not be injured he then lit a small wax taper and placed it in the trail of the gun carriage the preparations for the execution being now finished the magician gave a low whistle and another canary hopped from the cage slowly approached the cannon picked up the taper with one of its feet and hopping upon the trail lit the fuse during all this time the soldier bird had remained perfectly still upon the pole and seemed to be watching the fuse slowly burned nearer and nearer the powder suddenly there was a bright flash a cloud of smoke a loud report and the soldier bird fell from his seat to the table motionless and apparently dead his executioner who still perched on the trail of the gun carriage having seen the effect of his fire dropped the taper and hopped back to his cage putting no signs of fright that would have been natural to suppose a canary would have shown upon hearing a cannon discharge so near him to show the spectators how effective the executioner's fire had been the magician caught hold of the foot of the motionless soldier bird and held him suspended in the air for some moments the bird meantime betraying not the least sign of life the magician then dropped him into the palm of his hand and rolled him backward and forward but he still remained apparently lifeless at the calling of his name in a chirping signal from the magician however he revived with startling abruptness hopped upon his owner's finger and in a token of his resurrection warbled forth a happy carol and then flew away among the minions in the cage after the birds had performed several more tricks such as drawing a little bucket from a miniature well and others of similar simplicity the magician in bringing the exhibition to a close called out here Tommy Tommy come here the command was answered by a large and handsome Tomcat who sprang gracefully upon the table and at a sign from his master walked slowly through the door of the bird cage and lazily curled himself up in a bundle and blinked sleepily at the spectators to the astonishment of many of the latter the canaries seemed to regard his unseemly intrusion with the utmost indifference and began singing all the more cheerily and hopping upon Tommy's head and on his back as far as the pickup seeds under his very nose chirping and warbling all the time as if to express pleasure at his company Tommy for his part was quite as unconcerned as the canaries and watched their movements with a sort of drowsy interest making no attempt to molest them or drive them off his head or back the writer puzzled for months and months after we're going to account for this strange spectacle and look through all the books about birds and cats that he could find without discovering an explanation of it he continued to be perplexed until finally a young friend who was quite an expert naturalist revealed the secret which may now be told to my readers Tommy when he was but a little kitten indeed had been placed against the bird but the wires of which had been previously heated until they were very hot and had his first singed enough to cause him severe pain for a few moments this apparently cruel but necessary operation had impressed his kitten mind with the idea that if he attempted to harm either a bird cage or its inmates he would suffer the same pain that he had endured while being pressed against the wires the lesson once taught was never forgotten and in the same way as the proverb tells us a burnt child will dread the fire he ever afterward dreaded to metal with any cage or the birds within it some years after seeing the trained canaries above described the writer had the pleasure of attending one of Mr. Robert Howard's magical entertainments and of witnessing one of that witty gentleman's favorite tricks the interest of which centered entirely in the intelligence of three trained canaries in beginning the trick Mr. Heller wheeled a small round table to the front of the stage and placed it on a guilt bird cage containing three pretty little canaries after announcing that he intended to kill these he withdrew several paces from the table and then leveled the pistol at the cage taking apparently particular pains to aim accurately the ladies in the audience expecting every moment that the pistol would be discharged covered their ears to drown the noise purposefully misunderstanding their action Mr. Heller lowered the pistol and stepping forward baked their pardon in a most polite manner and said it was very stupid of him to do so but he really had not intended to hurt their feelings by killing the canaries before their eyes and he would hasten to make amends for his oversight with that he drew a large silk handkerchief from his pocket and wound it around the cage completely hiding the little birds from view having in this clever and unsuspicious way given the birds they perfectly understood he again would drew some distance from the cage leveled the pistol at it and fired the echoes of the report had scarcely died away when he stepped forward unwound the handkerchief and showed the cage apparently empty the birds having ceased to sing and being nowhere to be seen with a compassionate utterance of poor little things he opened the door of the cage put in his hand and drew forth a canary from the bottom of the cage then holding it suspended in the air for some moments during which it betrayed no signs of life he threw it into the air it turned over and over several times and fell with a slight thud upon a soft rug at the foot of the table remaining as motionless as a bird that was really dead Mr. Heller then drew forth two other canaries held them suspended a moment in the same way and then threw them in the air and allowed them to fall upon the rug where they lay perfectly motionless having thus apparently settled the matter of their lifelessness beyond doubt Mr. Heller picked them up carefully laid them upon another table in the middle of the stage and made preparations for continuing his trick he produced three eggs which he began to wrap up in paper slowly saying that he must now be very careful for if the eggs were to be broken it would spoil the trick he had scarcely spoken when the eggs broke with a crash as if by accident and with a very writhe face he began to unroll the paper to show the spectators what a wreck he had he continued to unroll the paper until he came to what the spectators supposed was one of the broken eggs when with feigned surprise he exhibited instead of the broken shells and bursted yolks one of the canaries that he had placed upon the table but a short time before and which by some mysterious means with which he alone was familiar had been made to take the eggs place he unrolled the paper further and as before showed a second canary instead of another broken egg and then unrolling the paper entirely disclosed the third canary all three birds although they had been rolled over and over while the paper was being unwrapped remain motionless and seemed to all appearances to be lifeless without waiting to explain how he had contrived to make the broken eggs appear and the birds take their place Mr. Heller uttered an expression of pretended disappointment and with seeming ill humor said that he didn't see what he could do now that his trick had been spoiled except make a fricassee of the canaries acting on this remark he got a small saucepan and placing some powder in a dish upon the center table dropped the birds one after another into the saucepan they still remaining motionless he next lit the powder which turned out to be a small quantity of greek fire and holding the saucepan over it for some time as if he were cooking the contents finally undertook to stir the fricassee with his short ebony wand instead of stirring up any fricassee however he stirred up one of the canaries who knowing that the stirring of the wand in the pan was the signal for it to come to life flew up on the other end of the wand and to Mr. Heller's well feigned amazement stretched its wings once or twice and then flew out into the auditorium over the heads of the spectators with an expression of uncertainty that seemed to mean that he thought either himself like a sepie witched Mr. Heller again made an effort to stir the saucepan whereupon another canary hopped up as before on the end of the wand alive and stretching its wings also flew after the first canary a third attempt with the wand resulted in the same way the third canary understanding the touch of the wand as the signal for him to fly away and obeying it as the others had having thus performed the trick he had really intended to from the beginning although he made believe that he had meant to do something else Mr. Heller recalled the pets to the stage once more with a renewed whistle and withdrew amid the hearty applause of the spectators End of Section 3 Recording by Alan R. Tate Bedford, Massachusetts Section 4 of True Stories About Pets edited by Jane Gray Swishelm This is a LibriVox Recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Tom and Others by Mrs. Jane G. Swishelm Chapter 1 Why I Did Not Succeed with Pole Tree A long time ago we went to live on a farm and I was very happy in the many plans about all the things I was going to have and do. I would have bosses, big, staggering, blundering, obstinate bosses. I would have lammies, large-headed, thick-legged, wobbling, awkward lammies. And I should watch them and tend them while they learned to eat and walk and run and frisk and gamble. Watch them till they grew so active and graceful that they could write songs about them and market men, perhaps read the songs and think how pretty they were. I should have ever so many cunning, amiable, pink-backed little pigs that never would need to learn anything but would spend all their time eating and forgetting and growing ugly. Then, oh, but I would have such flocks of green, downy goslings, spry gray ducklings, yellow puffball chicks, and stupid melancholy young turkeys. I would feed and care for these until they changed their baby clothes for brand-new coats and grew to be large and respectable poultry. And I thought, indeed, that nobody ever did have quite such a nice time as I was engaging for myself. The farm to which we were going was just the place to have all kinds of domestic animals. There was plenty of pasture for cows and calves and sheep and lambs and pigs, plenty of water for ducks and geese, plenty of barnyard for them and all the turkeys and chickens anyone need want. So what was to hinder my success in the pig and poultry business? It is a long time since people began to count chickens before they are hatched, and we had not been farming a great while until folks found out that I was doing a good deal of this kind of counting. It is not every schoolmistress who makes a good farmer's wife but I still think I should have gotten on with the pigs and the chicks very well if it had not been for our pets. Yes, the more I think of it the more I feel certain that the principal fault of that failure lay with those pets. Not that they objected to ducks or geese or hens or sheep or anything in that line but they were officious and always interfered with my plans. First there was Tom as pretty a creature as ever anyone need wish to see and so interesting. Tom was a favorite throughout the whole neighborhood and had so many collars and admirers that we were all thrown in the shade. Tom loved poultry and pigs and lambs but he would eat them before they were cooked. Nay, he would have them before they were half grown. No matter what was said to him he ate them just the same feathers, fur and all and never waited for a knife or fork. No matter how much I remonstrated or explained he kept right on as he had begun although I never had a pupil that I tried so hard to educate and refine. Perhaps it is not strange that I failed to make a gentleman of Tom for he was a very lively young panther, almost a year old and full six feet long when I saw him first. If I had taken him young and before his habits were formed I might have made something more of him. As it was the only change that ever came to Tom was that every day he grew older, larger and worse could eat more pigs and chickens and more of a great many other things. Tom had a small house all to himself which stood in a corner by the great stone chimney just outside the house so that he and I lived under the same roof most of the time for nearly three years and got pretty well acquainted. He wore a strong leather collar and was fastened to his house by a chain six feet long so he could step out and take the chair. His master thought him a beauty and never wearied of his tricks could not understand why people should be afraid of him and said that pigs and poultry ought to keep out of the way. It was a small way for his entire domain was a semi-circle of six feet across while the pigs and poultry had free range of so much space that there was no excuse for their trespasses on Tom's ground. This was all true, but I had no more success in educating the pigs and chickens than in training Tom himself. There the cunning rascal would lie and wait for them, his green eyes all ablaze and his body still as a log, all but the tip of the tail which would wag wag back and forth until some silly creature came within reach and that was the last of it. But Tom never did want so much to catch anything as a child, no matter what child. The sight of one drove him frantic, and oh, so many children came or were brought to see him. I do not think my heart has ever quite recovered from the stand stills it used to have those three long years when it so often seemed probable that Tom would catch a child. But Tom was not our only pet, and I liked Billy so much better. He was a young deer, and it was exciting to see Tom watch to catch Billy, and Billy watched Tom, eat grass right in front of him and look at his foe as if he said, don't you wish I would? Tom would be so provoked that he'd spring with all his might. The chain jerked him back. Billy sprang over the fence and darted off. The men laughed and shouted, and next day Billy came again to see Tom and have some more sport with him. Tom was not the only enemy Billy had to watch, for big bear and little bear were chained in the meadow behind the house, and either of them would have liked to catch him. So when he came racing down the meadow in great rainbow leaps to spring over the tall picket fence into the middle of the garden out onto the road through the lower orchard, past the mill and back again, he had to take good care that mezzers bear did not spoil his frolic. These four pets were nice enough, but the pet I liked best of all was Kate, a large cream-colored horse with fiery eyes, small head, arched back, slender legs, and superb black mane and tail. Kate could canter and rack and pace. It was splendid sport to get a saddle on her back and go over the hills and far away. But riding was not plowing or making furrows for corn and potatoes. The men wanted Kate to make furrows and draw a buggy, and she had made up her mind to do nothing of the sort. She liked carrying a lady in a long skirt if she sat straight in the saddle, but resolved that was all she would do. She gave due notice of her resolution by kicking the buggy to pieces and putting the plow harness into very bad condition. But three men were not to be balked by one horse. Kate must draw a sulky at least. One man galloped very fast after a doctor that afternoon while another lay insensible in a fence corner, and Kate was never again hitched to a buggy. It was not long, however, until she fell in love with Nance, a large dark bay horse very strong and gentle and almost as wise as a man. Kate would do anything to help Nance and to keep close to her, so they worked together in double harness beautifully and pulled together all their lives from that time forward. Our first cow was also a beauty, and like our other pets, had some unpleasant traits. She would not let a man or boy milk her, would chase a dog clear off the farm, watched for a chance to teach Tom he had no business there, and to drive those two bears out of the meadow, while Tom or either of the bears would have like nothing better than to have come into close quarters with old Blackie, and it was some trouble to keep the peace between them. She did not like Amanda Araminta at first, and sent her off in a hurry with her milk pails, then gave me notice not to come there to milk with that ring on my finger. She was not going to stand any nonsense, but when her terms were complied with, she did give such pails of delicious milk and yellow cream that she had a right to be particular. All things considered, we had quite a stirring time in the first spring of life on a farm, and it was not often a day passed without bringing us some excitement. If Tom did not catch a hen or a neighbor's dog, he had made an attempt. Billy had eaten the lettuce or beets. Big Bear or Little Bear had nabbed a pig or goose that had no business to be in the meadow. Kate had kicked something to pieces, or Blackie sent the milk pails we had no need to go to the circus. Chapter 2 How Tom and Billy Got On in Life One morning, that first summer, I was waked by the most frightful cries. Grandmother and Amanda Eraminta were rushing through the house, wringing their hands and crying out, Tom is killing someone! Run, run! Tom is killing someone! They were spraying out of bed and ran quick enough. I followed to take him a stick. He did not wait to get one, and I thought he could do nothing with Tom without a stick. We both rushed out of the front door. The women stayed downstairs and screamed. The men put their heads out of the windows upstairs and called to Tom's master to hurry, hurry, or he would be too late. It was just daybreak and a dense fog had settled in the valley. I soon found the stick, but the man to use it had disappeared in the fog. Everything had disappeared in that fog, one could see nothing at a distance of three or four feet. But if there was no sight, there was plenty of sound. The two women still shrieked and prayed. The men called, and out of the mist came despairing, terrible cries, God, take him off, take him off! Those whales came from the public road on the other side of the mill race. I must go to the bridge to get across. The man would be dead before I got there. It was a man's voice full of mortal agony. I had seen Tom kill so many things and knew so well how he did it. The cries grew weaker and I felt that every one would be the last. There was a heavy thud as of someone falling. I was too late and stopped to cover my eyes when I heard a gruff voice exclaim. I wonder the cats haven't eaten you a long time ago. And Tom's master stocked up to the bridge on his way to the house. When I asked him what the matter was, he snapped out. Oh, some fool got there frightened at Billy. Here, then, was the beginning of a new trouble. Billy was getting horns and giving notice of how he meant to use them. They were sprouting up out of his head and as large as two walnuts. He would have hurt the poor man with them if he could, but they were not yet large enough. I knew he was going to be dangerous and wanted to have him, but everyone took his part. It was so clever of a little fellow like Billy to catch a rubberly man six feet high, knock him up against a bank and make him stand there to be needed like a lump of dough. Billy was a hero and the poor man was laughed at till he had to leave the neighborhood. It was a great pity. He had heard there was a panther at the house and as he had never seen one ever either, when some strange creature attacked him in the fog he thought of course it was the panther and expected to be killed. Billy was not even shot up, but was petted and feasted and praised like any other conqueror. When his horns came to be horns and not knobs, he made many a one of his admirers get up on a fence pretty nimbly and that was good enough for them. But he frightened folks who did not deserve it and still the people took his part. A strong, resolute boy by taking hold of his horns could make him behave. Sometimes one would jump on his back for a ride and get a fine tumble. But there was no use to say a word against Billy, even the folks he made scamper did not want him shot up. There was not another deer in the country. He was very beautiful and they liked to see such a fleet creature bound over the fences across the fields and through the woods. It was sport to set dogs after him to see him toss them with his horns stamp them with his four feet send them flying with his hind feet or skip off leaving them to wonder what had become of him. All that summer he froliced and visited and all the next winter. Next spring his horns dropped off and he got another pair with a prong on each. No boy ever was so proud of a new pair of boots as Billy of his new horns. He was large and strong too a splendid fellow. I made him a new collar red with his name on it to wear with his new horns and there was not another such dandy in that country. One Sabbath morning he found himself three miles from home and concluded to go to church. I don't believe he cared for a sermon and so suspect he went to show his shiny coat bright red collar and branching horns. Indeed I am certain it was nothing good took Billy to church that sultry Sunday for he did not go till the pews were crowded full of people. It was a Methodist church and that was quarterly meeting so the whole neighborhood was present to witness Billy's piety and admire his finery. He waited outside for the presiding elder who was a large man very plump, rosy, grave and dignified and much engaged that morning thinking of the sermon he was going to preach. The church door was open and when the elder went in Billy went too just behind him. There was a matting on the floor which deadened the sound of Billy's hooves. So the elder walked slowly up the middle aisle and Billy after him making motions with his head as if he wanted him to hurry along to the pulpit and begin his sermon. The good man did walk very slowly on quarterly meeting days. It was no wonder then if Billy intended staying for the sermon he should want to get it started. But still he kept behind and only made passes until the elder halted at the altar steps to put down his hat which delay Billy concluded was rather too much for the patience of any worshipper of his dignity to endure. So gave the unlucky elder such a knock as to send him into the pulpit in an oriental attitude of devotion. This exploit wound up Billy's career. No one would plead for him anymore. He made very good venison and the elder laughed while he ate a piece and thought it a pity to have killed Billy for a frolic which did no one any harm. Chapter 3 The Baby and the Bear That first spring when Tom was trying to catch Billy when Billy was bounding in and out of the garden when Big Bear and Little Bear were on the lookout for pigs when Tom was frantic to get a hold of a child and we did not know what the bears might do to one when Kate was kicking and blacky hooking a friend came to visit us and brought a baby eighteen months old. She wanted to go on several hundred miles further to visit some other friends. There were no railroads in those days and it would be very hard to carry so young a child so far in a stagecoach so mama left baby Maria with me and went on to take her visit. When I think of it now it seems that we must both have been crazy. Baby could walk and run almost as fast as I and get through places that I could not but I thought I could take care of her and meant to do so. Tom's walk came close to the fence so we had boards nailed over the cracks to keep him from seeing her. I sometimes wake in the night and think of that baby and that panther with a low board partition between them. But I watched her so closely that she did not get into any special danger until it was almost time for mama to come and I had begun to feel easy. One day I was busy in the kitchen and thought she was playing with her blocks in the dining room. I happened to glance out of the window and there she was climbing through the bars of the meadow gate and big bear, three or four yards off, watching her. He was crosser than little bear. They were both hungry and none of the men were about the house. I thought of it all in a flash. Could I reach baby before she reached the bear? I knew she was going straight to him. If I called, she would run faster. Should I get something to try to kill the bear if he caught her before I did? No, this would be useless. My only chance was catching her first. I never could run fast and knew it. But I did not break the dish I held and must have got to that gate and threw it without much loss of time. All the way I could see baby hurrying to the bear, her little hands outstretched. He was at the end of his chain watching her as I had seen him watch a pig that he had caught and killed. I was coming, coming but full eight feet from her and she, two feet from the bear that stood waiting with that hungry, cruel look. It was too late. There was no hope. I could make it no worse by frightening her so I screamed out my agony. She was startled. She stumbled, fell and I had her. The disappointed monster bellowed, jumped and strained at his chain but it did not break. And soon after that baby Maria laughed us. Chapter 4 Educating Tom There never was a day of Tom's life in which I would not have paid anyone to kill him. But people thought me cruel. No one else wanted the pretty creature killed and everyone but his master was too much afraid of him to attempt his life. I really do not think there was a man in that part of the country who would have dared to shoot at Tom as he stood chained in his corner by the old stone chimney. His master had taken him when he was quite a kitten and thought he might be trained and taught to be as harmless as he was beautiful. He had heard of a farmer who kept a panther for a watchdog, of one who used to play with the children and be as gentle as a lamb. He had been training Tom a long time and had perfect control over him when he struck him behind the ear. He was often away from home so I concluded that I had better train Tom. I had read about the man who took a thorn out of the lion's foot and lived with him in peace ever after. I knew that a very lovely young lady named Una had once had a lion that was a great comfort to her. I knew that little deeds of kindness, little words of love make this world an Eden like the heaven above. After turning it all over in my mind I concluded that maybe Tom and I ought to come to be another addition of Mary and her lamb. It would be delightful to know that thousands of happy children were repeating. A lady had a panther large, was striped in gray and everywhere the lady went that panther led the way. He went with her to church one day to guard his mistress dear. And when he lay down in the aisle the people thought it queer. The sexton came to turn him out he uttered cries of woe. He would not leave the lady's side because he loved her so. There there the gentle preacher said the sexton ceased his vain. His love that makes the creature cry the record now is plain. The lion and the lamb you know together shall lie down. This Tom is gray coat is the friend of every lamb in town. See the reward that still awaits all loving trust and cares. Our saintly sister here converts her panther and her bears. That would be the reward of merit worth striving for. Tom and I would be put in a book besides Mary's lamb and Mary. So I went to work in good earnest to teach this cruel, wicked world its duty towards panthers. For months I petted Tom and fed Tom and talked to Tom. Every day I stroked Tom's head and shook his paw and stroked his head and shook his paw and fed him and talked to him. That was all I could do. He did not get a thorn in his foot so I could render him no service of that sort. But I did think and everybody else thought I was making good progress in taming him. He winked when I put my hand on his head and we all remarked that he looked wise. He minded when I spoke or we felt that he did. I have no respect for this day but he heard every word I said to him for his hearing was excellent. He ate all the bread and butter I gave him, all the mashed potatoes when there was plenty of fresh eggs and milk in them. He took pap enough from dishes I brought to have fed a dozen hungry children, complimented me by approving of my blank mange, devoured cooked meat with a relish and behaved most for I could not let him have raw meat as it would make him savage. He bore this interference with his tastes in an exemplary manner all day, consoling himself with a chicken or a dog or a pig when opportunity offered. But when evening came and the sun was down, he made us understand that he would like to do his own marketing. He would walk back and forth the length of his chain, slash his long tail, raise his head proudly, sniff the air, then give such a shriek as would make the valley's ring, stop to listen as if expecting an answer, stretch his head forward, then start to run, be suddenly checked, raise his head again, nash his teeth and pant till the foam hung on his lips. When Tom shrieked the bears were certain to bellow and with plenty of frogs in the mill race, it made quite a concert. The folks on the valley farms must have been stupid if they did not come to be judges of music. Tom's eyes were always green and fiery when excited. At night they glowed like live coals. One could see them shining in the dark when one could not see him or anything else. The darker it was, the brighter his burned and glowed. But during those months when I was educating him, he did seem to mind me all day, while thus progressing in his favor, and when not afraid to go close up to him, I was thrown from a carriage badly hurt, brought home and kept in bed six weeks. When able to go on crutches, the very first time I stepped out of doors I went to see Tom, for I wanted to keep Tom control over him. I went quite near before I saw that Tom really did love me. He loved me very much, so much that he intended to eat me. He was lying on his side when I passed the corner and rose when he saw me, as if to say good morning. He then lay down flat, his head on his forepaws, his hind legs under him, his tail stretched out straight. He kept perfectly motionless, all but about four inches of the point of his tail which moved back and forth like a pendulum. I knew what that meant, but was within his reach before I realized the danger. I had heard that a panther would not jump while looking into a human eye. He looked steady enough into mine. I must not flinch or look away. How long could I stand there? Some person or animal was sure to come along and if anything moved, that would be his signal. I talked to him and said Tom, Tom, poor Tom! They heard me in the house and thought Tom and I must still be good friends and that he was showing himself glad to see me. Sure enough, that was exactly what he was doing, for he had not yet had his dinner. His eyes every moment became greener and more fiery. Every moment I was moving my crutches cautiously backward. I had them planted but was afraid to move. At last someone was coming. Tom would make his leap and my only hope was to get out of his range. I swung myself back on my crutches and quite beyond them. I felt his hot breath on my face, the rush of air against it and thought he had me, but the chain was too short. His leap had been furious for the sudden jerk on the collar threw him against a post. He clung to this and glared at me, but I was out of his reach and concluded then and there that I had no special mission for taming panthers. Mary and her lamb might wear their laurels till doomsday for all I cared. I went in, looked at the clock and found that Mr. Tom and I had been admiring each other a good ten minutes but I never made him any more pap. Chapter 5 I Have a Visit Extraordinary Our first winter on a farm was very cold. One bitter day in February I looked out of the kitchen window and there was must hear big bear prowling about through our back yard as the weather. I was alone, not even a cat or canary in the house. Big bear was always savage and had not been fed since early morning. The schools would soon be out and as some little folks passed that way on their way home he must not be hungry. Isaac had left a large pot of porridge ready for brew and supper. I put as much of it with milk in a bucket as I would contend him, watched until he was not nearby, set it out, called him, hurried in and closed the door. Little bear saw him eating, struggled until he too broke his chain and I had them both on my hands. While they quarreled over the first bucket I set out another but they spilled so much they were not half satisfied, had found out where the supply came from and must door, so they bellowed and attacked the door. It was made in two parts I knew they would tear it to pieces and I must defend it. I had heard that bears were afraid of fire and there were some splendid hickory brands in the fireplace. I took up one and opened the upper half of the door a little way. There they stood with four paws on the lower half. Their hot breath puffed into my eyes but I had the brand at their noses too soon to let them make an effort to leap over. I did not want to burn them for fear of making them furious and was careful not to touch either. They did not like the fire and growled and shook their heads. They tried, first on one side then on the other, got down and up again, growled and attempted to pass that small movable barrier but it moved and did. Fortunately for me they acted together. When one turned to the right the other turned with him and so back again. We must have contested that passage for fifteen minutes before it occurred to them there was another way into the kitchen. They started together and together reached the window. I was there when they arrived and that hickory brand was still before their eyes. They growled and dodged some time trying to pass it. Then started for the next window which I gained as soon as they. We went through the old maneuvers when back they trudged to the kitchen window then to the door and once more to the windows. All at once they remembered there was another side to the house and started around past Tom's domain to the parlor windows. There I thought what if they should stop to have a tussle with Tom. He was shut up that morning but one of those bears working from the outside for something he wanted within would make short work of that cage. Tom would kill them and he be loose. I turned this all over in my mind while going to meet the brothers at the parlor windows. They came promptly and I was glad to see them. One after another they went. Then to the dining room windows one after another but at last they concluded there was something dangerous in that establishment and went and climbed a tree. I got the buckets filled them with porridge and milk, put in plenty of sugar, set them out and called the gentlemen in black to supper. They came fast enough, took their repast, turned over the buckets to be sure there was nothing in it, came to the door to inquire about sugar and found fire, thought they might have been mistaken about the windows, went clear around the house for a reinspection, concluded that there was nothing in it that would pay for going after, grew good tempered and stood up for a boxing match, wrestled, rolled and tumbled, went over to the corn crib and cider press, then scampered off through the orchard to the woods. It would not do to let them remain at large, so wrapping up I took the dinner horn and a fresh brand and started to hunt Isaac. I knew he was in the southeast ravine chopping wood. As I went along I traced Big Bear's trail in the snow and found he had made quite an excursion before I saw him. When finding Isaac I wanted him to get some of the neighbors guns and go and shoot those bears. He laughed, shook his head and said, that won't do know how. It did not appear to be safe for him to go alone and unarmed after the creatures, but he nodded his head saying, don't you be afraid, Hyle fetch him home all right? Then he took a short stick and a bucket of sweetened feed, started out and about dark came leading Big Bear with Little Bear following. He had traced them easily enough and found them in a tree getting hickory nuts, coasted them along with the feed and when one grew familiar and wanted to hug him, napped him on the head with the stick. If anyone could catch bears and tame them with sugar and kindness it would have been Isaac, but the good behavior of a bear is not to be relied upon. It was not long after this that he escaped from Big Bear only by his employer being near enough to knock his lordship down. Chapter 6 Tom Finds Another Victim Spring and summer passed. The sun rose and set until it was time to make hay in the large meadow. One bright forenoon it threatened rain. A great deal of hay was down and there was a call for hands. My help was a rosy girl who would much rather make hay than work in a hot kitchen. I was vain of my harvest dinners and had an idea that nobody could cook one as well as myself, so I stayed at home that day all alone and got dinner. During the morning a neighbor came on business and went up into the meadow, but his dog stayed with me. This was a very large, valuable animal and did not know that I did not like dogs. I wanted some parsley and went out at the hall door as that was the nearest way to the garden. I had forgotten about Tom and was startled to come upon him crouched for a spring at a cow that was almost within his reach and instantly he made the leap. The chain was too short and jerked him to the ground. The cow bellowed and ran. Her bell rattled. Watch sprang at Tom and they closed in a death struggle at my feet. I ran for the dinner horn to call the men thinking that Tom would have watch killed before they could come. In the kitchen lay a heavy, sharp hatchet and I thought that I might hit Tom on the head with it and save watch. I got the horn, picked up the hatchet as I could to help poor watch. When I reached the place, behold, no watch, no Tom was there and I had not been gone two minutes. What had happened? The ground was all torn and bloody but no dog or panther to be seen. I turned to look and there not twenty feet from me stood Tom. Tom loose. Tom free. I could scarce believe my senses. Nothing so terrible as this had ever before happened. He had mounted a log and stood with head erect and drooping tail sniffing the air as he did in the evening when he wanted to start off for a hunt. Why didn't watch hold him? He began the fight, had released him and ran away from his foe. Oh, the coward! But Tom's jaws were dripping and his white throat all stained with poor watch's blood. There was a short bit of a chain attached to his collar that rattled on the log when he turned his head. I blew the horn and the creature gave one of his wild shrieks. I thought he was going to start and was afraid I would lose sight of him. I knew his master would not be long in coming. I could surely keep guard until then. I went nearer so that I might talk to him and divert his attention from running away. Who could tell what he might do? I said Tom, Tom, poor Tom and thought of all the men who had guns. Could any of them find Tom if he were loose in the woods? Would any of them be able to shoot him if they did? I stayed near him and talked. Tom, be quiet, sir. And walked about, thinking he would not be so likely to crouch and spring on me if I moved. All the time the queerest thoughts kept running through my head. Our father in heaven would not let Tom run away and kill someone. There the king and I were standing face and face together. I says, how is your majesty? It's mighty pleasant weather. Nice weather, isn't it, Tom? You are splendid, just like a statue of attention. I wonder if my peas will burn. There, the statue is moving. Will he get across and have me for his dinner before anyone comes? The flies will get in my cream. Oh, I hear him coming. And, long before I expected, Tom's master rushed between us. I do not remember how he captured Tom, but he soon led him to his cage. When he was secured the dog's master came from the meadow in a towering passion. Poor watch had dragged himself to his feet to die, and no wonder he was angry. Tom's master thought watch had no business to place himself in danger. For my part I was very glad to find that my peas were not burned and that I had not forgotten to cover the cream. Chapter 7 Tom grows independent If I should write a history of all the achievements of Tom and Billy and the Bruin brothers it would make a very large book. It was not long after we got rid of Billy that the butcher came and took away the bears. Tom's master concluded to sell him to a menagerie man the first opportunity and then my time would come with the gozzlings and chicks. Tom had grown to be a splendid specimen, full nine feet long from the point of his nose to the tip of his tail. But all his taming had not broken his spirit. He would keep quiet during the day if nothing came near he thought he could catch. But after sunset he always grew restless. No matter how savage he was he would lie down at his master's command. His master liked to come and his master liked to conquer him and often took animals away after he had caught them because he wanted to train him. He laughed at folks for being afraid said Tom had never heard anyone and never would. One cold winter morning a man came who had ridden ten miles on horseback to know if that panther was roaming the country. Some hunters had seen tracks in the snow and thought he must have made them. Another man came from an opposite direction. Our panther had been seen in his neighborhood. Another came and another but Tom had not been loose. This was very unpleasant yet no one wanted to have Tom killed. They liked to come and look at him. It did not cost anything and was as good as a show. One morning I was waked by shrieks in the house calls outside heavy rapid steps and scurrying feet. The whole air seemed full of fright and I knew Tom was in mischief. I was in the hall in about three seconds. Sure enough there was Tom in the dining room. It was summer now and the doors were open. His master was running up the yard fast as he could and the door shouting where is he? He had found him loose crouching in a fence corner. The men had refused to aid in his recapture and ran and shut themselves up in the barn. He had tried twice to catch him but Tom was so confused by his pursuit and commands that he ran into the house. Here he was to answer for himself. He marched under the table and laid down. The old master took hold of his neck. Come along, Tom. This was just what Tom was not going to do. Old master might go along himself but Tom had made up his mind to stay under that table. I did not wonder for it was the nicest place he had found since leaving his native country. There was no carpet on his house in the chimney corner. No blinds to the windows. No sweet briar to shut out the light. This room was better than the one they had given him and an Arkansas stranger ought to have nice quarters. One thing certain he was not going to vacate until he was ready. The leaves of the table almost touched the floor and so protected him. When the men of England wore brass collars their masters could manage them quite easily. While Tom wore a collar the master could manage him. The collar was gone and now who was master? The only way to secure Tom was to get him into his cage. He had probably been roaming all night and would go in if he saw it. He must go and the man who used to be his master tried to drag him. He resisted and growled until the women upstairs screamed. The men in the barn heard him too and kept quiet. Tom would not go to his cage. The cage must come to Tom. I could no more lift it than a mountain but I could hold Tom as well as anybody. The ex-master objected but there was no other way. He resigned his place to me went as far as the hall came back saw that Tom and I were getting on finally and went out. I said, Tom, Tom, poor Tom. Tom winked and shrugged his shoulders as if he thought me a humbug. I patted his head and said good Tom, there Tom. He turned one eye he thought he heard a chicken. I said be still Tom, good Tom. Tom licked his lips cracked his teeth together his weight from one elbow to the other blinked at a fly and put his head on his paws. I did not like that so pulled up his head and spoke very sternly. Be still Tom, be still sir. He looked at me as much as to say oh bother but he let me hold his head and patted. Tom behaved like a gentleman or an old tabby cat and we were having the nicest kind of a time when that great six-footer of a man had to come back. He was always getting between Tom and me and now after going for that cage and bringing it half way had taken it back and put it in the old corner and came to conquer Tom. To conquer Tom without a stick. I thought this great folly but gave up my place and asked him to keep quiet until I brought his stick. I intended to bring a stick true enough, yes two sticks and one would have a good heavy hatchet on one end. When I reached the hall there was a struggle in the dining-room the women upstairs screamed there was a smash, a crash Tom was through the window and had taken the sash with him. I reached the front door and his tail disappeared around the corner of the house before I got to the corner the ex-master passed me Tom was in his cage and nobody hurt. He had a new collar and chain after that the corn crib was cleaned out and he chained in it here he had room to walk but not to spring and could not break his fetters he lived in the corn crib a long time many visitors as a congressman held levies every few days and improved his voice in the evening and became a great vocalist there were no steam whistles in those days but Tom gave promise of things to come in the region of sound one day I had good news from Tom the first I ever had heard of him he was sick next day the news was better and Tom was worse next day it was still better he was much worse the next his skin was stretched on sticks and hung in the garret this cured me of ever wanting to live on the upper floor of the house this is the end of Tom's story End of section 4 Chapter 5 Chippernip by Luthera Whitney The people of Boston found that the squirrels which were put on their commons a few years ago were the deadly enemies of the birds so bright and cunning as they were they all had to be sacrificed they are, however, near neighbors in our woods there's no lack of birds on Skitchewang Mountain and it is a famous place for squirrels whether they were in the woods or in the woods or in the woods it's a very famous place for squirrels whether they ever molest the birds or not I cannot tell but the different species quarrel with each other and among themselves I've often seen a red squirrel chasing a chipmunk to and fro through the woods up and down trees over fences and under brush heaps almost as rapidly as my eye could follow and I once saw an old red squirrel carrying off one of her young in her mouth as a cat carries a kitten she seemed to be fleeing from some enemy I did not inquire too closely but it might be one of the rattlesnakes which infests the mountain a pair of old greys had their nest near the schoolhouse last summer we used to see them every other day on the fences or on the roof and as she was never disturbed she grew quite tame but search as we might neither teacher nor scholars could ever find her nest other squirrels used to come into the schoolyard to pick up bits of bread and cake which the scholars threw away while eating their dinner during the autumn we ate many watermelons and the squirrels feasted on the seeds who were very provident would fill their cheeks with them and scamper away to their holes but the others ate them on the spot taking one seed at a time between their paws sitting upright and picking out the kernels with great rapidity the song says the squirrel is a pretty bird he has a bushy tail etc but I've seen one whose tail was as bare and more slender than a rat's he was very young grey squirrel with hardly any hair on him and he had mere depressions instead of eyes my brother got a pair of them from a nest a birch tree on the side of the mountain and proposed raising them he fed them milk and cream from a teaspoon but they were awkward and helpless and one of them died in a few days the others seemed likely to follow when we called a family council and, in despair, decided to give him to the cat this was not quite as cruel as it sounds we had at the time a very handsome tortoise shell cat named Lady Lytton she was very intelligent and we had taught her to respect due property in whatever form it might take but she had no brains or ducklings which were sometimes brought into the house and once she allowed a swallow who had become unable to fly to sit a whole week on the edge of the kitchen woodbox she had two little kittens in her warm nest in the shed and there I carried the poor shivering little squirrel and explained the case fully now Lady Lytton said, I you must take care of our little chipper-nip he's hungry and cold and he has not any eyes do please try to see what you can do for him Lady Lytton spread her white furry arms Lady Lytton washed the sour milk from his poor little face and gave him part of the kitten's supper from that time, chipper-nip was provided for in about three weeks his eyes opened and he soon began to run about the shed Puss was always more anxious about chip than about the kittens one night some wild cats came prowling about the shed Lady fought them valiantly and drove them away the next night just at dusk she brought chip into the sitting room put him on the lounge and then went back for her kittens she was jealous because none of the family had visited her that day so we played with them a few minutes and carried them back to the shed she brought them in again directly and continued to do so as we carried them out for some time at last despairing of making us understand the desperate state of things she fled with chip-nip to the chamber and hid him so securely that we could not find him, neither could he escape from his retreat Lytton then went back to her kittens and spent the night evidently understanding that they were in less danger than chip for she took him first each time next morning as soon as the family had arisen she went upstairs with the greatest apparent anxiety and brought him after which we made her bed in a more secure spot she used sometimes to punish her kittens severely yet I never knew her to get out of patience with chip but once she was lying on the flower stand where she usually took her daytime naps and he would pounce upon her from the window sash the oleander and every other eminence within several yards she moved from the flower stand to the rocking chair and from there to grandma's easy chair but none of them were too far away for one of chip's leaps he came flying through the air with his tail now grown bushy enough floating like a comets behind him lighted on her head or her back bit her ears and her tail and was away in a twinkling making ready to repeat the performance at last puss thought forbearance had ceased to be a virtue she caught him in his next leap held him with one forepaw and with the other she cuffed him long and well then went to finish her nap on grandma's bed where as a great treat she was sometimes allowed to sleep at last puss thought forbearance had ceased to be a virtue she caught him in his next leap held him with one forepaw and with the other she cuffed him long and well then went to finish her nap on grandma's bed where as a great treat she was sometimes allowed to sleep chip and it used to have fine frolics with the kittens what he lacked in strength he made up in activity and climbed to the highest point within reach where he panted for breath but as soon as he regained it he sprang down upon them eager to renew the tumble chip was great mimic he imitated the cats in all unusual motions and months when mother was winding yarn he watched her intently a few minutes and then sitting erect he began to twirl his paws keeping time with her hands when she stopped to untangle her skein he watched to see what she would do next and when she began winding her paws and keeping time as before chip and it was never very fond of the food prepared for the cat and one day when I gave him a piece of sweet apple he evidently made up his mind that he would never eat any more cats messes he ate raw apples after this till one day I gave him a baked one after which he refused raw apples altogether then he ate successfully apple and pumpkin pie gingerbread, rice and bread pudding and other things always refusing all but what was his prime favorite at the time till the nuts were ripe my brother brought him some chestnuts one day this was food fit for the gods chip thought he had a supper of them and the rest were saved for his breakfast but alas his keen sense of smell told him where they were and he climbed up to the pocket containing them devoured the whole of them and went to sleep on the shells he paid dearly for the theft however for they made him deathly sick and he spent all the next day lying prone in the notch between the two roofs scolding and chattering at everyone who came in his sight perhaps he learned not to eat so many but he certainly did not lose his taste for nuts or his inclination to steal them he always found them where they were and possessed himself of them and when the rightful owner came he found only the empty shells he ate chestnuts mostly but he would gnaw through a hickory or butternut and sometimes he would bite an acorn shell and cup and kernel in little bits but I never knew him to eat even a single bite hunger would probably have brought him to it he damaged the furniture and he would often spend half an hour gnawing a bit of stick it was necessary for him to gnaw some hard substance I suppose for the teeth of the rodents to which class the squirrels belong are constantly growing and unless worn away will cause serious damage after Chip considered himself too big to sleep with the kittens he found several beds which he occupied for a night or two sometimes in the pocket of a coat or dress hanging in one of the bedrooms sometimes in a hat or cap or shawl on the hall table at least he settled down to the habit of lodging under the counterpane of Grandma's bed he always had a frolic out of doors just at sunset after which he climbed up the scarlet runners and went in at the top of the window the upper sash of which was always left open a couple of inches for his accommodation he used generally to take his mid-day naps in someone's pocket long naps they were too lasting sometimes for hours no matter how rudely he was jostled or how noisy the work we engaged in he took him out in this way to make a call but he never liked it and seldom ran about in a stranger's house but much preferred to creep back into the pocket and never felt quite easy till he found himself safe at home with all his bright and clever ways I am forced to acknowledge that Chippernip had a very bad temper it was no uncommon thing for him to get angry with some member of the family and hold his wrath for a week at times he would be in good temper with no more than one person to whom he went for all favors he never asked to go out or in as the cats did but would take advantage of their cries and was very angry if the door was shut before he passed through strangers he despised and when there were visitors in the house he used to spend his time in the top of a very large apple tree overhanging the back door however anxious we were to show our pet no amount of coaxing could bring him down rarely could the finest nuts tempt him within reach if our guests spent the night he took his supper at the corn barn of soft pig corn and then ran up the bean stock to bed if they stayed several days he visited the family in the kitchen where he was less likely to be disturbed one day a neighbor's child came to call I was ironing a dress that had been ripped into small bits chipped sat at the board and I spread the pieces over him as I ironed them he would dressed his head out and watch me till I had nearly finished another piece then run out to receive it while it was warm he scolded a little when Charlie came in but the fun was too good to lose so we went on Charlie enjoyed it very much and could not resist the temptation to try it himself so he spread his little pocket handkerchief over him chipped was out of his tent and a twinkling with blazing eyes and bristling tail if his strength had equaled his anger he would have been more dangerous than a Bengal tiger he watched Charlie intently running up and down on the edge of the board to keep as near him as possible scolding and chattering with rage Charlie was going home full of terror of the little fury but I persuaded him to stay and put chip in my pocket where he still kept a lookout from the top enemy one bright Sunday morning in November Chippernip was taking his usual run in the orchard when some lawless hunters came by and as we suppose either Cotter shot him for he never came up his ladder of scarlet runners to grandmas bed anymore end of section 5 recording by John Patrick Henry section 6 of true stories about pets edited by Jane Gray Swiss helm this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information on the volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Chad Horner from Ballyclair in County Andrew Northern Ireland situated in the northeast of the island of Ireland the true story about pets by Miriam Phillips one cold night of February while we were sitting around the cozy fire we heard a noise at the window on opening it we find a little speckled hen brown and white we took the shivering benumbed little creature in and cared for her she stayed about the house all winter and in early spring we made herself a nest down in a cozy corner of the wood shed and after a while we gave her 13 large grandma eggs to sit on the weather was very cold when she came off the first of April leading six soft little chicks up to the kitchen door one of the power little babies lived only a few weeks but the others were healthy and strong it continued a cold stormy spring so we made a cup for the little stranger and her babies near the house and took fond care of them all but what do you think when the babies go they're not a little mother left them to care for themselves so they never learned a great many things that all well brought up chickens or talk for one thing they never learned to risk but would nestle together on the ground just as if the mother hen were about to cover them with her warm feathers we had to give them all the more care because they were so helpless and we headed them a great deal we fed them choice bits from the table especially meat of which they were very fond while they were young they learned to stand in a row in front of me and take their meat in turn so that all would be served alike sometimes we would take them in our laps and rock them and often we held them in our warm hands and petted them out in the yard they seemed to enjoy it all as much as kittens would as they grew older we gave them names there were three roosters and two hens one of the roosters was named Nicodemus because he always seemed anxious to look into matters he was always peeping about into boxes and containers he was so tall he could breach up to the top of the table and pick a things upon it sometimes when we forgot and left things within reach upon the kitchen table he would step in and help himself very freely he grew to be so large and fat perhaps on account of the goodies of the goodies he stole that we could only walk a little distance without sitting down upon the ground to rest another rooster we called Sakes because he was the only one that ever learned to climb at all and he never got any but he made it up by stretching his neck alarmingly so that he stood as tall as two roosters ought to be he too was a fine and very large rooster but the cop of the Wog was Captain White he was a pure white foil with the exception of some fine feathers in his tail and a bright red headpiece the captain knew very well that he was a handsome foil a strut about and asserted his rights in a very dignified manner the largest of the two hens we named snowflake because she really was as white as pure snow and she went about so softly she scarcely seemed to touch the ground she was a large noble creature and took a motherly care for her brothers and sisters always trying to destroy all jealousy between them there was sometimes a good deal of this on the count of the pet of the yard our handsome little beauty she was a fain happy little hen and dearly did she love to stir up a fuss for Captain White to settle it was really a very happy family except when Nick or Zach were too attentive to their sisters then Captain White very soon showed them their proper places he never thought until he thought it positively necessary and then he did it up in such a thorough way that it lasted indeed he had perfect command over the brood he always insisted on walking between his two sisters making poor Nick and Zach follow meekly behind they might scratch for their sisters if he were by but let them try it when he was resting somewhere then what a fuss he would make he would fly toward them on the wings of the wind it was laughable to see the squabble and hear the scolding and pleading snowflake always did her best to make peace and always succeeded at last but the chickens had one trouble that they could not get rid of my kitten Ferry was forever teasing them when they were in line eating their meat Ferry would suddenly jump into their midst from someplace in which she had been hiding and when she had excited a great cracking and general disturbance she looked so satisfied and so amused our neighbour Mrs. Gray had a garden and all summer we kept the fence tightly stopped near the ground so that the chickens could not get through and as I never learned to fly two feet they did not often get over on the other side when they did we always went over and drove them home at once and they ought to Mrs. Gray wished them to come over and pick up bits about the yard they were so pretty she said it would be a pleasure to look at them so we took off the lower board of the fence that they might go through but they would only all get fairly over when Ferry would go after them and drive every chick home and when that was accomplished she would look as wise and cute as it could be when Captain White procured some choice bit and called the rest to share Ferry would wait until they were all busy eating and then suddenly she would run right in among them and disperse them Ferry played and he pranks beside teasing the chickens one day in autumn she was sitting on the porch near a great sycamore tree the large leaves were falling to the ground and Ferry would watch each leaf as eagerly as if it were a mouse and the moment it touched the ground would pounce upon it and picking it up in her mouth carry it round to the back of the house where there was an empty basket into this she kept putting them until it was full what her object in this was I never knew she delighted to sit on my lap and have me rock her as long as I sang in a low voice she would sit still but as soon as I sang loud or high she would jump up and put her paw on my mouth as much as to say do stop that noise one winter she slept on the foot of my bed every morning at 9 o'clock she would meow at the door for me to open it and would go upstairs to bed I don't know how she knew when it was 9 o'clock but she seldom made a mistake if she wanted to go out of the window before I was awake she would come and wake me when I made my bed I either was obliged to shut her out of my room or allow her time for a regular frolic as fast as I would smooth the feather bed she would jump upon it and disarrange it and when I threw over the covers she would catch hold of them and try to pull them off I would allow her this fan for a while and sometimes she would stop after a good rump but oftener I had to put her out before I could arrange the room and of section 6 section 7 of true stories about pets edited by Jane Grey Swisshelm this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by D. Scott Warren Seattle the true story of a tame crow by Miss H. H. Stewart once upon a time there was a round-faced brown-eyed boy whom we will call Tom because that was not his name he was so tender-hearted he cried when he saw the seamstress cutting up his father's coat as if he thought his father was being dismembered before he could speak quite plainly he could repeat if I ever see on bush or tree young birds that are pretty nest I must not in my play steal the birds away to grieve their mother's breast and with such pathos there were tears in his voice I said in my haste this is a boy without any depravity who will grow up the champion defender of all helpless creatures now when this boy without any depravity was 12 years old what do you think he did he brought home from the woods full of un-fledged crows you will say a change had come over his spirit I should think so it came in the way of a strong temptation when Tom wanted anything he wanted it dreadfully somewhere Tom had read or heard that the crow was a bird of superior intelligence and could be taught to talk the idea of training a bird to say Molly put the kettle on took possession of Tom's bird fancy he began to ponder upon wide possibilities in the intellectual development of crows he wandered daily to the woods with a younger brother and together they watched a pair of crows building their nest the boys formed their own plans and kept their own counsel upon a certain day in April when the eggs had been hatched about two weeks the old birds left the nest and sailed out of sight I think they have gone to catch fish Tom now is your time said the brother twitching his scotch cap off from his yellow curls and handing it to Tom Tom tucked the cap under his arm and climbed the cedar tree that held the nest he looked in five red throats opened almost wide enough to swallow him as they gaped they screamed Tom's bright eyes grew greedy considering which he had best take he reflects they have no feathers their throne will be so cold and lonesome besides it is such a curious sight their throats look like a bunch of red tulips his brother must see them yes he will take them all this passed through his mind quickly the old birds could not have been far off for while he was transferring the last one they attacked Tom with the fury how he came down with any eyes left in his head is a mystery all the crows in Queens County and there was more calling than at a political caucus for hours the woods resounded with screams naturally you will ask how Tom silenced their approaches of his conscience in the same way all robbers do whether boys men or nations he raised the cry of philanthropy he argued in this wise it is true that you Tom Stewart have removed these young birds from the parental crows keeping but you have done it with the high motive of improving their condition and let us not be too hard upon Tom for his specious self vindication only the other day a party of statesmen went off birds nesting to Berlin and Lord Beaconsfield the great English Premier came home with the island of Cyprus in his pocket a very fine chicken which he is going to take care of for its mother Turkey I will do Tom the justice to say that he looked tenderly at his helpless dependence and resolved himself into a whole orphan asylum for their care but he found that being an asylum for orphan birds is no sinicure those five mouths were always stretched for more and their nutriment was limited to raw flesh and raw fish carefully minced the first week all his spending money went to the butcher reluctantly he gave his neighbor little blue eyed Dora the crow of brightest promise the very next day Dora's brother almost a baby dropped a marble into the gaping throat and thus ended fledgling number one numbers two and three were given to his friend Harry who having theories of his own experimented with their nourishment and they died of indigestion a carpenter who came upon the place to repair a sailboat he was directed of carrying off number four but number five surnamed Dick remained and is the subject of this biography having safely passed the fledgling stage he became a very miscellaneous feeder fond of meat, fruit grain, and shellfish I think perhaps there was nothing he ate with so royal an appetite as a raw clam he had a set of hooks at the root of his tongue with which he could raise up anything and if upon second thoughts he concluded to make room for something else he liked better once he swallowed a whole string of currents he seemed dissatisfied thought about it hooked it out picked off and rejected one withered current and then with great gravity swallowed the string over again he helped himself to write pairs from the tree scolding loudly if anyone else took any never ate a bunch of grapes but selected the best and ripest from all the bunch picked every reddening tomato and pepper not I think because he liked the taste but on account of his love for bright colors after his last brother was stolen by the carpenter Dick became as intimate with the family as a dog he never left home which was a place of twelve acres except in the company of a flock of pigeons that lived over the stable they tolerated his attendance with an air of devotion as though he were an intruder of some low Ethiopian family but Dick was a great deal handsomer and more aristocratic than the widest of the doves his head was a beautiful shape with a large brain and an eye of fine intelligence his perfect health showed in glorious blue-black plumage every feather was brighter than silk in the old burial of cock robin the crow officiated as parson nothing parsonic or funereal in the taste of our dick he was a wag if pusile stretched to sleep in the sun dick would steal up and give her tail a sudden tweak when she started up and looked about in angry surprise he would be standing off blinking with such an air of innocence even feline suspicion did not fall upon him a half-witted servant about sixteen years old entertained a superstitious fear of dick he divined it and made that girl's life a burden it was her business to gather vegetables and fruit for dinner when she began to pick peas dick would swoop down from some distant tree clutch her shaker bonnet from her head sail out of her reach then drop it and jump upon it with mad furious fun while her frantic shrieks would inform everybody in the neighborhood of the whimsical performance that was going on she was the only person afraid of him and he persecuted only her though he did not refrain from practical jokes upon his best friends tom kept very intimate relations with his grandmother he carried on most of his enterprises under her sitting room window because he liked to talk with her and he found it convenient to borrow certain articles she kept at hand once when she made a visit to Staten Island and was gone several weeks tom was found sitting outside her door looking so desolate his mother asked him what was the matter he did wish grandma would come home and bring her string bag he said in the most injured manner grandma wore a wonderful pocket in which she carried a knife a pair of round pointed scissors and a pin cushion that looked just like a red tomato tom was making a kite as usual he was under her window he called grandma will you let me take your red pin cushion she handed it down to him saying be sure and bring it back remember you have a lame grandmother who cannot run after her things he gave his promise with utmost sincerity no sooner had he laid it beside him than Dick rose with it in his beak alighted on the barn and planted it in the gutter covering it with wet leaves he did the same with a letter that was to be sent in haste to the post office the magpie nature stood out strongly in Dick and nothing could be funnier than his air of business and mystery when he thought he was hiding some stolen thing he chose a rustic basket that crowned an old stump for his bank here he secreted pieces of china bits of glass several buttons two or three pennies and some large bright beads if anyone approached the safety deposit he came screaming to the rescue tom had a way of throwing himself on his face at full length in the orchard Dick would walk over him nip his ear and pull his hair and give up his investigation till Tom rose up laughing to convince Dick that nothing was the matter Tom's brother had a curious troublesome idiosyncrasy the boy was always absent at mealtime when the family assembled at dinner this lad was always missing the half-witted girl would be sent ringing a bell through the grounds like a town crier for the delinquent invariably he was found in the deep grass catching grasshoppers which he fed to Dick sitting upon his shoulder who received and swallowed them as coolly as if boys were created especially to serve him with grasshoppers one peculiar characteristic of Dick was that he never showed any fondness for the ladies of the family but was all devotion to the lords of creation when the gentleman of the house sat reading upon the piazza Dick would hop upon the arm of his chair pull his paper peck gently at his eyeglasses croon confidentially in his ear untie his shoes and in a dozen ways court his attention he never would go to bed until he had first flown to his master and received from him a caress of good night he had perfect confidence in human beings and never showed any fear of them not even strangers if by chance however wild crows came about he was terrified and what is singular they seemed equally to fear Dick once when a hen hawk circled overhead he flew to the Gardner and clung to his neck with cries of alarm that seemed half human it was a custom of Tom's family on fine Sundays to walk the mile to the village church in October dawns such a day when every condition of nature made the walk a delight father and mother with the children set forth Dick was in his most sociable mood and resolved not to be left behind was ever before seen such an odd escort for a family going to church this great black glossy bird sailed just overhead alighting on fences evidently considering himself as good a Christian as a white man after some bright speculation about the probable sensation if Dick should be allowed to enter church Tom was sent to take him home a wild cherry tree grew beside the gate it was Dick's habit to perch here when he felt lonesome to watch for his friends this Sunday after his return he mounted this outlook Tom's grandmother saw him from her window suddenly the stillness was broken by a gun Dick was not to be seen the spitz dog was barking furiously the witless servant ran out and saw two vandal sportsmen disappearing down the road with guns doubtless they carried away the body of our dear Dick in their murderous hands no citizen of the neighborhood pulled a trigger to harm him it was a want indeed by stragglers from the city who I daresay never dreamed of the heartbreak that a whole family suffered over the fate of their confiding affectionate fun loving Dick End of section 7 Recording by D. Scott Warren Seattle