VIII PETS

To Editor Woman’s Page who do so much to make home-life less homely.

Hon. Dear Sir:

Mrs. Benjoman Barnum of Pyramid Park, Penn, is the latest lady to turn me loose. Whether she are a relationship to Hon. P. T. Barnum (deceased) I am not aware enough to say, but she have got a very menagerie mind. Her home is a tame zoo full of animals. I am sure, if she had a bigger parlour, she would keep a elephant.

“Togo,” she report to me when she hired me off the Fineheimer Employment Bureau, “nothing make home so lively as several Pets.”

“I notice this,” is bright reply for me. “You are the most pettish lady I ever worked for.”

She did not seem to assimilate them words I said, yet they was truthful. Her home resembled Mr. Noah’s Houseboat in variety of 4-foot, 2-foot & 1-foot beasts it contained. By actual stastistics Mrs. Barnum possessed the following list of live Pets, which she support from sweethearted reasons of kindness:

1 Dog of waggish ways & barking vocabulary. His name was Julius Siezer, but Neighbours call him “Git Out!” because he dug mines in their flower beds. I forgot his nationality, but his complexion was Irish; 1 Cat entitled Florence who earned her food by purring for it. Her feet was deliciously full of thorns; 1 Parrot called Robt. Burns because his soul was in his talk; 1 cannary-bird name Dick. He didn’t seem to have no resemblance to his name; 2 Goldfish Twins, Harry & Carry who spent their days idly swimming in glass & saying nothing.

Mrs. Barnum formerly had one husband who went dead. I congratulate him.

When all those Pets is going at once, dog-bark, cat-mew, parrot-shriek and cannary-bird warbul, it sound like a brass band composed of dish-pans & steam whistles.

“I love my dum friends,” explan Mrs. Barnum to me with kind-eye expression.

“I love them most when they are most dum,” I repartee, suppressing my ears from those scrambled sounds. “If you could teach those goldy-fishes to sing, the harmonium would be complete.”

While I said thus that dog Siezer approach up and bit me on leg.

“He do this in fun,” say Mrs. Barnum.

“So glad to hear!” I negotiate. “Dogs never hurts so much when they bite humorously.”

“If you wish for to be employed in this home you must be keeper as well as housekeeper,” she tell off. “Promptly at noon o’clock each day the annimals must be fed. Each have his peculiaristic diet, which he crave for health. Siezer must have bone, Florence require cream, Robt. Burns expect apple, Dick ask for seed, while Harry & Carry demand fishfood. I should rather see anything than that my Pets go hungry.”

I assimulate her words and do what best I can. It require tack and courage to chaperone those Pets. They are all cannibles by appetite and would love to eat each other for their food qualities. When Hon. Seizer, the dog, are unloosed from his mesh he start forthly with waggish expression of tail and attemp to gobble Hon. Florence, the cat. This delusive mammal are too speedful for that dog, so she elope with hissy noise to mantel-piece where she set growelling with enlarged fur. When Hon. Siezer are absent attending other duties, Hon. Florence set hour by hour gazing upward at Hon. Dick, the cannary-bird, and wishing she had a baloon to obtain him with. When I approach this talented cat she make purr-song and slide around my ankles, requesting that I should give her Dick for lunch. I must refuse, out of politeness for Dick. Sometime Hon. Florence prefer fish. Then she walk up wallpaper like a fly and thusly arrive to shelf where Harry & Carry are swimming selfishly around in their toy ocean.

Hon. Robt. Burns, the parrot, are less particular. He like any sort of food, as long as it are alive. One day he observe me and say with tender squawk, “O darling, come, come to your own sailor boy!” I come. When I approach sifficiently close, Oh, nipp! Hon. Parrot remove off ¼ from my ear and set there looking satisfied. I sorrow to think he could talk so tender, yet act so tough!

Last Thursday A. M. Mrs. Barnum approach to me. She did not know it was my last day with her. Neither did I. Life is so surprised!

“Togo,” she instruct, “I am going over to Aunt Jane’s to set by a sick bedside.”

“Are Aunt Jane diseased?” I require.

“No. It are her cat what has influenza of the diagram,” she tell. “I shall be gone 1 hour time. Remember, while I are away my pets must be fed. Do not neglect this. I would rather anything than that they should go hungry.”

I give her my promissory word.

As soonly as she had went I begin task of furnishing bill-of-fare for her zoo. To Siezer I give bone, to Florence cream. They accept this without thanks. Then I donate one apple to Hon. Robt. Burns who sung, “Every morn I bring thee violets” and attemp to chew off thumb from me. Everything was affectionate as usual.

Nextly I go to shelf where Harry & Carry are bathing in glass. I took them to table where I irrigated them with fresh water. I was just feeding them slight lunch of delicious bait when——SCRASH!!!

From next room I heard Hon. Robt. Burns say distinctly, “If you love me, darling, tell me with your eyes!” So I knew he was doing some sort of murder.

I rosh in. Oh!! what sight I seen. That parrot-fowell had escaped away from his roost and lept upward to goldy cage where Hon. Dick was making opera with voice. With talented grabb that conversational chicken had shipwrecked Hon. Cage and deposited Hon. Dick-bird to floor. When I met Hon. Parrot he was hen-picking that talented songster. I attemp to arrest him for his brutality, but he attach my finger with his eagle mouth. I was removing him from this when, SCRUNSH!!!

Loud crashy of glass from next room. I rosh forwards. I was just in time to be too late. Hon. Florence had pushed glassy residence of Hon. Goldfishes to floor and was dieting on those gilt swimmers. She look thankful while she make gollup of Harry. She also ate Carry ½, but when I remove remainder from her she make reproachful growell and snagg me with thorny foot. I attempt to restore Hon. Carry who was fainted away, when—BOW WOWS!!!

Hon. Siezer approach to scene determined to obtain food supply from that cat. Hon. Florence rosh up curtains with angry sizz peculiar to sky-rockets when she seen that dogged approach. Hon. Dog smile up at Hon. Cat and Hon. Cat smile down at Hon. Dog.

While thusly they stood Hon. Dick awoke up from where he lay and limped forth on shabby wings. He give 3 and ½ sorry peeps and flitter to fireplace where he flew up flue.

Just at that instantaneous moment Hon. Robt. Burns arrive in with rawcuss yellup, and hooked his feet to chandelier where he hung suspended downside-up like a umberella. Dog & Cat continue to gaz up & down at each other like Romeo & Juliet.

“Should old acquaintance be forgot?” require Hon. Parrot, twirling his head 3 times in circular manner.

I had no time to reply to this inquisitiveness. It were nearly time for Mrs. Barnum to return homeward and I was full of timid fright for fear she might notice how badly her Pets was mixed among themselves. I did not feel sifficient to meet her angry rage.

So I handed my resignation to myself.

On hasty piece of paper I wrote:

Esteamed Mrs. Madam:—when nextly you see Togo he will be gone. So will your golden-fish & cannary-bird. But I will not be gone where they are, because your Pets do not crave me for food. I are not sensitive about this neglect. When you left me this morning you say so that you thought their appetites was failing. I could not dishcover that dangerous symptom. All they need was change of food. If ever you find them refusing eat in the future, do what I done—turn them loose on each other. If you wish to find Harry & Carry, search Miss Florence. If you can not dishcover Miss Florence when you get back, search Mr. Siezer. I am sorry to go, but glad I went.

I attach this information secretively to door-handle. From inside of house I could hear Hon. Siezer making coon-tree noises responded to by war-cry voice of Miss Florence. From top-tip of chandelier Hon. Robt. Burns was reporting peevly, “Fare-bye, for I must leave thee! One parting kiss—ar, ar, ar!!”

I sneek silently away on velvet feetsteps, feeling like one Spartan boy who done his duty by escaping from it.

Hoping you are the same,
Yours truly,
Hashimura Togo.