S. Bisset and his trained Hare and Turtle.

S. Bisset, whose training of other animals is elsewhere recorded, like the poet Cowper, procured a leveret, and reared it to beat several marches on the drum with its hind legs, until it became a good stout hare. This creature, which is always set down as the most timid, he declared to be as mischievous and bold an animal, to the extent of its power, as any with which he was acquainted. He taught canary-birds, linnets, and sparrows, to spell the name of any person in company, to distinguish the hour and minute of time, and play many other surprising tricks. He trained six turkey-cocks to go through a regular country dance; but in doing this he confessed he adopted the eastern method, by which camels are made to dance, by heating the floor. In the course of six months' teaching, he made a turtle fetch and carry like a dog; and having chalked the floor, and blackened its claws, could direct it to trace out any given name of the company.[179]

A Family of Rabbits all Blind of one Eye.

Lady Anne Barnard, in her Cape Journal,[180] referring to Dessin or Rabbit Island at the Cape of Good Hope, says that it is "dreadfully exposed to the south-east winds. A gentleman told me of a natural phenomenon he had met with when shooting there; his dog pointed at a rabbit's hole, where the company within were placed so near the opening that he could see Mynheer, Madame, and the whole rabbit family. Pompey, encouraged, brought out the old coney, his wife, and seven young ones,—all, like the callenders in the 'Arabian Nights' Entertainments,' blind of one eye, and that the same eye. The question was, on which side of the island was the rabbit's hole? With a very little reasoning and comparing, it was found that from its position, the keen blast must have produced this effect. The oddest part of this story is, that it is true, but I do not expect you to believe it."

Thomas Fuller on Norfolk Rabbits.

"These are an army of natural pioneers whence men have learned cuniculos agere, the art of undermining. They thrive best on barren ground, and grow fattest in the hardest frosts. Their flesh is fine and wholesome. If Scottish men tax our language as improper, and smile at our wing of a rabbit, let us laugh at their shoulder of a capon.

Their skins were formerly much used, when furs were in fashion; till of late our citizens, of Romans are turned Grecians, have laid down their grave gowns and taken up their light cloaks; men generally disliking all habits, though emblems of honour, if also badges of age.

Their rich or silver-hair skins, formerly so dear, are now levelled in prices with other colours; yea, are lower than black in estimation, because their wool is most used in making of hats, commonly (for the more credit) called half-beavers, though many of them hardly amount to the proportion of semi-demi castors."[181]

Dr Chalmers and the Guinea-Pig.

Mr Aitken alludes in a pleasing manner to an instance of Dr Chalmers's fondness for animals. He had just been appointed the head-master of one of the Glasgow parish schools (St John's). "Early in the week following my appointment, I received my first private call. One circumstance occurred during the visit which I still remember most vividly. One of my children had been presented with a pair of guinea-pigs. These had found their way into the apartment where we were sitting, and ran about in all directions. I could have wished to turn them out, but had not the power to rise from my chair. He soon observed them, followed them with his eye as they now retreated under his chair and again ventured out into his presence—he even changed the position of his feet to give them scope. That same kindly eye, one glance of which we all loved so much to catch in after-life, beamed only the more warmly as the creatures frisked in greater confidence around him. It was to me an omen for good. He who could enjoy thus the innocent gamble of these guinea-pigs could not fail to be accessible for good when occasion required. It was the first flush of that largeness of heart which afterwards appeared in all I ever heard him say or saw him do."[182]