In the year 1812, a sailor in company with several persons, at Sunderland, a short time before, perceived a crab which had wandered to the distance of about three yards from the water side. An old rat, on the look-out for food, sprang from his lurking-place and seized the crab, who, in return, raised his forcep claws, and laid fast hold of the assailant’s nose, who, when opportunity offered, hastily retired, squeaking a doleful chant, much surprised, no doubt, at the unexpected reception he had experienced.
The crab, finding itself at liberty, retreated, as speedily as crab could do, towards its own element; but after a short space of time, it was arrested in its progress by Mr. Rat, who renewed the contest, and experienced a second rude embrace from his antagonist. The rat, as before, retreated, bemoaning such violent treatment. Frequent and severe were the attacks; on view of his enemy, the crab always prepared for action by raising its fore claws in a threatening attitude.
After a bloodless contest of half an hour, the crab, though much exhausted, had nearly reached the sea, when the rat, almost despairing of conquest, made a last and daring effort to overcome his antagonist, and succeeded (to use the seaman’s term) in capsizing his intended victim, a situation of which the rat immediately took advantage, seizing, like an able general, the vanquished prey, and dragging the creature by the hind legs (proceeding backwards) into his den. After a short interval, he made his escape, and appeared to the spectators, mutilated and deprived of most of the small legs; the rat soon followed in pursuit of the fugitive, and forced him back to his den, where, no doubt, he regaled his wife and family.
Bill and the Boys,
OR WIT AND WEALTH.
As we have finished Bill Keeler’s story of the lottery ticket, we will now proceed to relate another tale which was told by one of the boys who belonged to the story-telling circle of Salem, and which we shall entitle Wit and Wealth.
A great many years ago, and in a far-off country, there were two boys—one of them was the son of the king and bore the name of Selim; the other was the child of a poor man and was called Bazeen.
Selim was brought up in luxury and permitted to have his own way. He was dressed in the richest silks; his ears were decorated with diamonds, and jewels of great price glittered upon every part of his person. He was surrounded with servants, who were attentive to his wishes, and prompt to gratify every passion and caprice.
But while so much pains were taken to amuse the young prince and minister to his pleasures, his education in most respects was neglected. He was instructed in horsemanship, music, dancing and military exercises, but he had a contempt for books, and utterly refused to learn to read. He seemed to think it was enough to be a prince—that by birth he was superior to all others. He made, indeed, a mistake common enough among people of high fortune, in feeling that the rank and condition in which he was born gave him a right to claim superiority in every respect over all around him. He forgot that there is no royal road to learning—that the prince as well as the plebeian must study to acquire knowledge, and that a person with a full purse may be a pauper with respect to brains.
Young Bazeen was very different from all this. His father, as we have said, was poor. He had no jewels with which to decorate the person of his son, nor could he do more in respect to dress than to clothe him in the plainest attire. But he had still the power of giving his boy an education, for learning was little prized in that country, and the schoolmaster undertook the education of Bazeen for a very small compensation. Thus, the boy was taught the learning of that day, and among other things was made acquainted with several different languages.