Jacquot.
Here is another of Aunt Totty’s stories about her pet animals. I shall tell it to my little readers as nearly as I can in her own words; and they must fancy Aunt Totty seated in the midst of her little nephews and nieces, who are all ready to listen. This is how she begins:—
“Now, my dears, I am going to give you an account of a pet I had whose name was Jacquot. I daresay you think from the name it must have been a monkey or a parrot. No such thing! it was a great brown bear, and this is how I made his acquaintance.
“I was not more than nine years old, and was travelling with my papa and mamma, and my brother, who was two or three years older than myself. We were making a tour in Switzerland, and stopped for a few days at a town of which I forget the name now; for you may suppose it was a great many years ago. However, what I do remember is that a fair was being held in the town at the time, and that is how it happened that the bear was there.
“On the morning after our arrival I came down early,—as I thought, before anyone else of the party—and seated myself at the open window of our sitting-room in the hotel. As I sat there watching all that was going on outside, I saw my brother cross the courtyard of the hotel, coming out from a long low range of buildings on the other side of it. A minute afterwards he entered the room, and coming up to me, said with an air of mystery,—‘Totty, I want to show you something: come with me before mamma and papa are down; you’ll see something curious.’
“‘What is it?’ I inquired, feeling quite excited.
“‘I won’t tell you what it is; but come along and see,’ answered my brother.
“As he spoke, he led me downstairs. We crossed the courtyard hand in hand, and entered the stables of the hotel. I could not help looking about rather nervously, as he led me past a number of horses and mules—keeping always, however, at a safe distance from their heels—till we came to the last stall of all. In a corner of this, I perceived a huge ragged hairy ball, but what it was I could not at first imagine. I saw that a strong chain attached it to a ring in the wall; then I discovered that it was some living creature, for its sides rose and fell with the breath as it slept. A man, who was lying on some straw close by, seeing my brother and me, rose up, and said in French,—‘You need not be afraid, he won’t hurt you.’ Then patting the creature with his hand, he added,—‘You wouldn’t hurt the young lady, would you, Jacquot?’
“The ball uncurled itself, growled, and rose upon four legs. It was a bear: but the saddest-looking, the thinnest, and most ragged you can imagine. It had twenty scars on different parts of its body, and one ear was almost torn away. I must have looked shocked and distressed, for the man seemed to understand my thoughts, and said,—‘Ah, well! what can you expect? poor Jacquot is not happy.’
“Then he went on to tell us the bear’s history. It appeared that he was himself only the keeper or attendant of the bear, not the owner. He told us that Jacquot was born in the Pyrènean mountains: he was caught when quite a baby, and received an excellent education, being able to dance and perform every trick a bear can learn; he was perfect also in point of docility. At one year of age, his education being considered complete, he had been sold to the man who was still his master. This man, at the time he made the purchase, was the owner also of other animals. Jacquot’s first companions were a camel, two monkeys, and a red and blue parrot. One of the monkeys passed the greater part of his time on the bear’s back, the other monkey and the parrot on the back of the camel. But they were not a happy family: the monkeys and parrot bit and scratched, and generally tyrannised over, the patient camel and the good-natured bear.
“The owner of these animals used to take them about in a caravan from place to place, to exhibit them; but he was not kind to them, or did not treat them properly, for the camel, one monkey, and the parrot died; and when I made the acquaintance of Jacquot they had lately been replaced by a small leopard. So that the collection consisted then of a bear, a monkey, and a leopard, the latter being kept in a strong-wooden cage.
“Just as the man finished speaking, a monkey jumped down from a manger, and seized upon some cabbage leaves which the man, while talking to us, had given poor Jacquot. The bear, who was enjoying his little bit of greenmeat, objected to part with it; whereupon the monkey, looking like a little fiend, seized upon an old saucepan which lay near, and belaboured the poor bear cruelly upon the head and nose. Not content with this, it jumped upon the bear’s back, and bit and tore the poor creature, until the man took up a whip; at the sight of which the savage monkey quickly made off into its manger again. From that moment I hated the monkey, and loved the poor, patient, oppressed, ill-used bear.
“During the next few days I used to pay a visit to Jacquot whenever I could get my brother to take me into the stable; and on such occasions I always took him a present of fruit or cakes. More than once, also, I saw him performing in the fair, and then it always seemed to me that he looked out of the corner of his little eye as if he recognised me. There was a knowing twinkle in his eye which seemed to say,—‘We don’t appear to be friends in public, but we have our pleasant little secret interviews for all that.’ It went to my heart to see how the patient creature was knocked about and ill-treated by his cruel master, who always acted himself as showman. Poor Jacquot danced and went through his different performances hour after hour, with nothing but blows for his reward. He was the principal performer: the monkey was not very clever, and did not do much; while the only trick that the leopard had been taught was to jump through a hoop, which was thrust into his cage between the bars. When not doing this he only walked backwards and forwards in his cage, to be looked at.
“One evening I had some nice cakes, which mamma had given me from the dessert after dinner, to take to Jacquot. I looked about for my brother to go with me into the stable, but not finding him, at last, after some hesitation, I ventured to go alone. The coast was quite clear; there seemed to be nobody about. I passed by the horses and mules, and went on to the last stall, which was Jacquot’s habitation.
“He welcomed me with a friendly grunt, and while he was munching his cakes, for which he seemed very grateful, I happened to look through an open door which led into a room beyond the stable. This room was probably intended as a harness room, but I knew that in it the leopard was kept. There was his cage, too, standing on the ground, just in the place where I had seen it before; but I noticed, to my inexpressible astonishment, that the cage was empty. I did not observe, or do not remember, whether the cage door was open or the cage was broken; but the conviction on my mind at once was that the leopard had escaped.
“In a corner of the stable was a heap of clean straw, on which the keeper of the animals, Auguste,—the man who had told us the history of Jacquot—was accustomed to lie down; probably it served for his bed at night. While I was wondering what could have become of the leopard, and beginning to feel very frightened, I heard a rustling sound, and saw the handsome, wicked-looking head of the creature peep from beneath the straw; then slowly it crept out altogether, its eyes glaring at me, and showing its teeth the while. It was just going to spring when my friend Jacquot saved my life. As I stood immovable from fear, Jacquot stepped in front of me, the length of his chain just allowing it; and there he stood up, exactly as a man might have done, to defend me. He gave a tremendous growl as the leopard sprang upon him. I saw no more, but ran off as fast as I could.
“In the courtyard I met Auguste, who had heard the bear growl, and was running to see what had happened. I afterwards learnt that he had only been able to liberate poor Jacquot and secure the leopard by striking the latter on the head with an iron bar, which he kept always handy for emergencies of the kind. The creature was stunned by the blow and restored to its cage, but both animals were very much hurt in the fight.
“Then the question arose, how was Jacquot to be rewarded for having saved my life? My father said at once that he should like to buy the bear, so as to save it from further ill-treatment by its master, the monkey, or the leopard. But when we had him what were we to do with him? He could not be taken about with us like a pet dog. Then I proposed that it should be bought from its present owner, and made a present to Auguste, who, I felt sure, would always treat it kindly. This plan was carried out; and before we left Switzerland I had the satisfaction of knowing that Jacquot was earning a good living for itself, and for a kind master, by its accomplishments.
“Many years afterwards I was staying at the house of some French friends of ours near Versailles, when one of the children—for there was a large family—ran into the drawing-room, looking very excited, to say that there was a wonderful performing bear, which had come into the garden, and they had now got it in the nursery, which opened on to the garden. The bear was doing the most extraordinary things, the child said, and would we come to see it? We elders of the party went off to the nursery immediately, for it sounded alarming to have a bear playing with the children. As we entered, I at once recognised in the bear’s master, who was standing in a corner of the room, and looking on with great pride at his bear’s performances, my old friend Auguste.
“I told Jacquot’s story to my friends, and you may be sure the bear and its master were both made much of.”
