Some dogs grind organs at the command of their unfeeling exhibitors; and though they always set about the business with a serious face, that may be no proof that they dislike music.
Our own dog—a cross between a Scotch and a Skye terrier—is affected in an extraordinary way by the notes of the harmonium, and chooses to post himself close to the instrument while it is playing. So long as the music runs below a certain pitch all is well; but touch a single note above that, and he prepares to join in the performance himself.
A Tuneful Terrier.
If a shrill note is prolonged above a minim, he points his nose in the air, at an angle of about forty degrees, and, elongating his body in a straight line from the nostrils to the tail, pitches precisely the same note, which he will go on sounding as long as you please. The inference generally drawn is that he dislikes it, and that the notes to which he thus responds are painful to him. To us that is not so clear, since, though the door be open, and he has the run of the whole house, he never shows the least disposition to make his escape. Who shall say that it is not a luxury to him?
The point is doubtful, at least; and we shall give him the benefit of the doubt, and acquit him of the charge, which we deem odious, of disrelishing music.
We shall close the present sketch by a remarkable instance of the love of music exemplified in the conduct of a party of mice who had obtained surreptitious admission at a public concert. Thus it runs:
“Soon after Miss Hay had commenced her first song, the party occupying the front seats saw a mouse sauntering leisurely up and down, close to the skirting of the platform on which she was singing. As the song proceeded, the mouse stood spellbound. A lady tried to drive it away by shaking her concert-bill at it; but the little animal had lost its fear of man, and would not retire.
Appreciative Mice.
“At the conclusion of the piece the mouse vanished, but reappeared, bringing with it a companion when the next song commenced. At the end of song the second the two mice retreated to their hole, but made their third appearance on the boards when the singing was again renewed.
“Eventually, six or seven mice came out regularly with every song, and retired when the music ceased. While the melodious tones filled the apartment all attempts to drive away the mice were vain. These most timid members of the animal kingdom were too fascinated to be in terror of the human family, who actually filled the room; and though a fiftieth part of the means used to drive them away would, under ordinary circumstances, have sufficed, they now stood, or slowly glided, so entranced by the melody which pervaded the room that they were heedless of the presence of their natural enemies.