Her body was sent, in the interests of science, to Prof. Ward of Rochester, N. Y., and by him the skeleton was prepared and mounted. It is now in the museum at Princeton College; so that Pussy remains as serviceable after death as it was her warm will to be in life.
VIII.
AN ODD SET.
VIII.
AN ODD SET.
Our exclusive world is apt to choose its pets like its garments—in accordance with the fashion of the day. Still, there are always a few people who prefer choosing for themselves; and from this independence queer intimacies often result. Accident, too, not infrequently cuts the knot of custom; while, furthermore, it is true of all that propinquity works wonders. We come by degrees to like what we live with; and discover merits on long acquaintance that a shorter one would not reveal.
White rats and mice, for instance; they make delightful pets. Thomas Bailey Aldrich says that he—no—that little Tom Bailey had white mice, and that Miss Abigail couldn’t bear them. It was lucky the thought never occurred to him of taming the common brown rats, or Miss Abigail would have had convulsions. Anything more uncanny, more utterly at variance with civilization, it would be hard to imagine. To see them, reconnoitering in cellar or back yard, so homely, fierce and shrewd, so seemingly untamable, full of device as the Old Serpent, and, like him, inspired with a wicked intelligence, is to feel half doubtful of their right to exist. And yet they can be tamed, and often have shown genuine affection for their tamers. They are fond of music, too—a trait of which the Pied Piper took advantage, to coax them out of Hamelin Town. In quite another way they were persuaded to leave Stilf—an exodus quite as strange as that from Hamelin, although less widely known, through lack of a Browning to put it in rhyme. The story is this:
In 1519, in Tyrol (a time and place very credulous towards magic), lived a well-to-do peasant called Simon Fluss—that is, he formerly was well-to-do. Now, his prosperity had received a check—his crops were destroyed by field-rats. They ate the seeds, the young stems, the developed grain, until the farmer found himself face to face with ruin, and was fairly badgered into self-defense. Not, however, by traps or terriers did he uphold his rights; no, he brought the matter into a court of law. Notice was served duly, and a time appointed for hearing the case. Advocates were chosen for each side, witnesses were examined, and finally—all legal forms having been observed—judgment was passed to this effect: