A Tuneful Terrier.
If a shrill note is prolonged above a minim, he points his nose in the air, at an angle of about forty degrees, and, elongating his body in a straight line from the nostrils to the tail, pitches precisely the same note, which he will go on sounding as long as you please. The inference generally drawn is that he dislikes it, and that the notes to which he thus responds are painful to him. To us that is not so clear, since, though the door be open, and he has the run of the whole house, he never shows the least disposition to make his escape. Who shall say that it is not a luxury to him?
The point is doubtful, at least; and we shall give him the benefit of the doubt, and acquit him of the charge, which we deem odious, of disrelishing music.
We shall close the present sketch by a remarkable instance of the love of music exemplified in the conduct of a party of mice who had obtained surreptitious admission at a public concert. Thus it runs:
“Soon after Miss Hay had commenced her first song, the party occupying the front seats saw a mouse sauntering leisurely up and down, close to the skirting of the platform on which she was singing. As the song proceeded, the mouse stood spellbound. A lady tried to drive it away by shaking her concert-bill at it; but the little animal had lost its fear of man, and would not retire.