“And won’t you take me with you too?” said little Billy.
[ CHAPTER VI.]
HOW I VISITED THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS.
That night I set out with Whiskerandos on more extended travels than any which I had yet attempted. Oddity might have accompanied us, but he preferred, as he said, home comforts and a nibble in the warehouse. I knew that he would look after old Furry, whose infirmities were sadly increasing upon him, so that I had no fear of the blind rat being neglected.
I suspected that more than one reason induced my pie-bald brother to decline the tour. He had struck up an acquaintance with Bright-eyes, a lively little rat, and probably found his society more agreeable than that of Whiskerandos, of whom he always stood somewhat in awe. I shall not pause on the description of our underland journey through the wondrous labyrinth of passages which, like a net-work, spreads in every direction under the foundations of London. I saw more rats in these gloomy lanes than I had ever imagined existed in the world. I should have been afraid to have passed them, so fierce they looked, so ready to attack an intruder, had not Whiskerandos been at my side. He neither provoked contests, nor feared them—neither gave offence willingly, nor took it readily—but had withal so resolute an air, that few would have been disposed to have quarrelled with him. I was heartily glad, however, when again we emerged into the light of day; and I was full of astonishment at the sight of green grass and trees, such as I had never beheld before.
“Ah!” said Whiskerandos, smiling at my delight, “you should see this grass in the fresh spring, and those black bare trees when the bright young leaves are upon them. The branches of yonder row seem dropping their blossoms of gold; and how sweet is the scent of the hawthorn! But I would not have you pass through that iron paling to examine more closely the beauties of the garden; the square would be a charming place, no doubt, if it were not haunted by cats.”
I had never seen a cat in my life, but I started instinctively at the name. “Take me anywhere,” I exclaimed, “take me anywhere that you will, so that I never come in sight of one of those terrible creatures!”
“I am going,” said Whiskerandos, “to take you where there are cats so huge that one could take a man’s head in her mouth, or strike him dead by a blow of her paw!”
“Oh, for my shed! Oh, for my quiet hole! for Furry, and Oddity, and my peaceable companions!” thought I. “What folly it was to venture into the world with such a guide as this desperado, Whiskerandos!”
I suppose that the bold rat read my thoughts in my frightened face, for he hastened to reassure my mind. “The big cats,” said he, “some with long flowing manes, some spotted, some striped black and yellow, have no power to harm us. They are kept in barred cages by man, and spend their lives in wearisome captivity, denied even the solace of amusing themselves by catching a mouse for supper.”
It was the dawn of a winter’s morning, when with my comrade I merrily made my way across the park. The grass was whitened with hoar-frost, which also glittered on the leafless boughs of the rows of trees which lined the long straight avenue. We entered the gardens without paying toll, or in any way obtruding ourselves on the notice of man.