While his better lot bestows
Sweet repast and soft repose;
And, when feast and frolic tire,
Drops asleep upon his lyre.”
Mrs. Piozzy.
THE MUSICAL DOG.
Signor Morelli, the celebrated Opera singer, has a dog, who, aided by the well-known comic powers of his master, is productive of much amusement, by his attempts to sing, when called upon in company. On his master’s summons for that purpose, he seats himself on the chair left for him, and, with great earnestness, tries to follow the tones of his master’s voice; plaintively whining when he hears the high tones, and growling when the low ones are sounded. Signor Morelli pretends to be in raptures, when his singular pupil performs well; and his gentle reproofs, when he proceeds to an unmusical bark, are highly comic and entertaining to the company.
THE EXTRAORDINARY EFFECTS OF MUSIC ON A BULL.
A few years ago, a man who lived at Allerton, near Liverpool, by trade a tailor, but who could occasionally handle his fiddle, as well as his needle, on his way home, from whence he had been exercising his musical talents, for the entertainment of his country neighbours, in passing through a field, about three o’clock, in the morning, in the month of June, he was attacked by a bull. After several efforts to escape, he attempted to ascend a tree; not, however, succeeding in the attempt, a momentary impulse directed him to pull out his fiddle, and, fortifying himself behind the tree as well as he could, began to play; upon which the enraged animal became totally disarmed of his ferocity, and seemed to listen with great attention. The affrighted tailor, finding his fierce and formidable enemy so much appeased, began to think of making his escape, left off playing, and was moving forward. This, however, the bull would not suffer, for, no sooner had the tailor ceased his fascinating strain, than the bull’s anger appeared to return with as much rage as before: he, therefore, was glad to have recourse a second time to his fiddle, which instantly operated again, as a magic charm upon the bull, who became as composed and attentive as before. He afterwards made several more attempts to escape, but all in vain; for no sooner did he stop his fiddle, than the bull’s anger returned, so that he was compelled to keep fiddling away, till near six o’clock, (about three hours,) when the family came to fetch home the cows, by which he was relieved and rescued from a tiresome labour and frightful situation. This is, perhaps, the first man upon record, who may be really said to have fiddled for his life, and, who so truly fulfilled the poet’s idea, that
“Music hath charms to soothe a savage breast.”