What the Animals Do and Say

by Eliza Lee Cabot Follen

"Why, Mother," said Frank, "I did not think that a cow could be good for any thing but to give milk."

"In Germany, they use cows for draught, and make them work pretty hard. There you see cows every day doing the same work that our oxen do, and giving the poor man his supper at the end of the day besides; and it is said that the labor does not hurt them. The Germans feed the cows well, treat them gently and kindly, but make them, as well as the dogs, work for a living."

"Now I will tell you a story about a pike. We are apt to think fishes very stupid; that they have no feeling. A gentleman in England, a surgeon and a naturalist, told me of what he had himself seen. A pike had struck its head against a tenter hook on a post in the pond where he was swimming. His agony was so great that he darted backward and forward with the greatest rapidity, then buried his head in the mud, then whirled his tail round and round, and threw himself up into the air to the height of two or three feet, and, at last, he threw himself out of the pond upon the grass. Dr. Warwick placed his hand on the fish, examined the injury, and observed that the hook had entered the skull, wrenching up one side of the bone and depressing the other, and that a small part of the brain had escaped. With a toothpick the doctor restored the bones to their proper places. The patient remained perfectly still during the operation, and after-ward was returned to his native element. He seemed restless for a little while, and then lay quiet. Dr. Warwick then made a sort of cradle in which he placed the poor sufferer, who seemed disposed to lie still on one side."

"The next day, very early, Dr. Warwick went to the pond. To his astonishment, he found that the pike knew and remembered him. The fish came to the edge of the pond, placed his jaw upon the toe of the doctor's boot, let himself be taken hold of and caressed, and allowed the wound to be examined. It was much better. When the doctor walked along the side of the pond, the fish followed him. When the doctor returned from his walk, he found his patient watching for him. The pike then swam backward and forward while the doctor remained there. The fish had lost one eye in consequence of the wound from the hook, and, when his blind side was towards the doctor, was always very restless. The poor fellow seemed anxious to keep his surgical friend in sight. The doctor would often whistle when he went to the pond; and the pike always came at the call, and showed pleasure at seeing him. Dr. Warwick introduced his family to his friend and patient, the pike. The grateful fish allowed them to give him food, and put aside much of his native shyness. In truth, he received their attentions very civilly, but he always showed a decided preference for his medical friend. Dr. Warwick was the father of my friend, Mrs. A., in Liverpool. He related all these facts to me himself, and they are all to be perfectly relied upon."

Now I will read you a German story called Caliph Stork.

One pleasant afternoon, the Caliph of Bagdad was sitting comfortably on his sofa: he had slept a little, (for it was a hot day,) and looked quite bright after his nap. He was smoking a long rose-wood pipe, and sipping coffee, which was poured out for him by a slave; and occasionally he stroked his beard with great satisfaction. In short, it was evident that he felt quite pleasantly.

This was the best time of day for speaking with him; for at this hour he was always very good-natured and affable; and, on this account, the Grand Vizier Mansor always visited him at this hour. He came also this afternoon, but looking very thoughtful, quite against his wont. The caliph took the pipe partly away from his mouth, and said, "What makes you look so thoughtful, Grand Vizier?"

The grand vizier crossed his arms over his breast, bowed to his master, and answered, "Sir! whether I look thoughtful or not is more than I know; but certain it is, that there is a pedler down stairs who has such beautiful things, that it vexes me not to have any money to spare."

The caliph was very willing to do his grand vizier a favor; so he sent the black slave to bring the pedler up stairs. The pedler came. He was a little, dumpy man, with a dark complexion, and dressed in ragged garments. He bore a chest in which were wares of all sorts: pearls and rings, richly mounted pistols, drinking cups, and combs. The caliph and his vizier rummaged over the whole chest, and the caliph finally bought some pistols for himself and Mansor, and a comb for the vizier's wife. As the pedler was about to close the chest, the caliph saw a little drawer, and asked if there was any thing more in it. The pedler pulled the drawer out, and showed in it a box of blackish powder, and a paper with curious writing on it, which neither the caliph nor Mansor could read. "I got these two things from a merchant who found them at Mecca, in the street; I do not know what they contain, but you may have them very cheap, for I cannot do any thing with them."

The caliph, who liked to have old manuscripts in his library, although he could not read them, bought the paper and the box, and dismissed the pedler.