By placing an obstacle in his way of such a shape as he cannot readily climb over, and urging him forward, he may be taught to leap; soon little hoops of wire or wood may be held for him to jump through, and these may be raised gradually with successive lessons until he will spring a considerable distance into the air to go through them. During all the time of training it should be your object to tame your pupil and inspire him with confidence in you; this will enable you eventually to remove the string which secures him, and so add to the credit of your exhibition. He should also be accustomed to take food from your hand or from the point of a bit of stick. This will serve as the foundation of many amusing tricks. Thus a small piece of cheese may be placed on the end of a string or wire so arranged that the removal of the cheese will cause a little bell to ring or produce some other pleasing effect. After the first few lessons with this arrangement, in which the mouse will have become accustomed to securing his food in this way, the cheese may be simply rubbed on sufficiently to induce him to bite at it. He should at first be guided up to it with the wand and tapped gently under his chin to induce him to rise and seize it. A variation of this is the trick of carrying articles in his mouth. First give him some article thoroughly smeared with cheese; the desire to secure the cheese will make him take it; then by urging and guiding him with your wand you can make him carry it about; being loth to relinquish the cheese, he will retain the whole. The amount of this bait used may be gradually diminished. By-and-by he may be made to convey little articles to and fro between two persons seated at opposite sides of the table. To do this, as well as for general convenience, it is well to accustom your pupil to come to you at some particular sound. This may be either the snapping of the finger nails or some slight noise of the mouth. It is easily done by making the noise, and, at the same time, pulling him toward you by the string attached to his tail. When he reaches you reward him with a morsel of cheese or bread, and repeat from day to day until he will come upon hearing the call.
Rats or mice may be used as motive powers to operate little models of machinery. This requires no training, as they are merely placed in a tread-mill contrivance, and being kept there their weight causes the works to move and compels the animal to keep up the motion.
RAT AS A MOTIVE POWER.
A little performance, a la Blondin, may be arranged for your mouse by stretching a piece of wire sufficiently stout to afford him a firm foothold, from two posts, about a foot in hight, fastened into a board. The ends of the wire may be at an angle, and also be secured to the board. Being guided by your wand up the slanting wire upon the main one, the dexterity with which he will run about upon it is quite surprising. If he has been already taught to hold things in his mouth he may be given a piece of wood, about the thickness of an ordinary friction match and twice its length, to represent a balancing pole, and this may be adorned at each end by a balancing flag or bit of ribbon. The real “balancer,” however, is the animal’s tail, which he will wriggle from side to side to preserve his equilibrium.
In the summer of 1867 one of the most attractive of the outdoor shows exhibited in Paris was that of “the man of rats,” well known to the inhabitants of the Quartier Mont Parnasse, where he has held his headquarters for the last thirty years. The name of this Rarey of the rat race is Antoine Leonard. If the former succeeded in breaking in the worst tempered brute ever created, Leonard in three weeks certainly accomplished the difficult task of cultivating habits of obedience in the biggest rats that ever ran. His favorite scenes of action are some cross alleys in the 14th and 15th Arondissement. His sole theater is a sort of perch which he sticks into the ground, and then he takes his corps de ballet out of his pocket. At his word of command the rats run up and down the perch, hang on three legs, then on two, stand on their heads, and in fact go through a series of gymnastic exercises that would put Blondin himself to the blush. His crack actor is a gray rat that he has had in his troupe for eleven years. This old fellow not only obeys Leonard, but is personally attached to him. It is a most curious sight to see Leonard put him on the ground, and then walk away. The creature runs after him, and invariably catches him however many turns he may make to avoid him. An Englishman offered fifty francs for him about two years ago, but Leonard would not separate from his old and attached friend.
Some time ago, in passing through Beekman street, in this city, our attention was attracted by quite a large crowd gazing intensely at the telegraph wires which pass through the street. Following the example of the rest, we at last discerned, high up on the topmost wire, a mouse, that was running along evidently in search of some safe descent from his novel position. It seems that some boy had caught him, and the fact that the wires in that vicinity pass close to the windows of the buildings, had, doubtless, suggested the idea of placing him thereon. Whether the mouse would have persevered and traveled on to Albany, thus furnishing an example of sending articles by telegraph, it is impossible to say, for some person at a window within reach of the wire, by vigorous shaking, succeeded in dislodging him, and he fell to the ground among a crowd of boys who were eagerly waiting to receive him. In the scramble that followed he was captured, and borne off in triumph by a newsboy.
A shrewd dodge is related by a New York paper of a certain saloon keeper, who has been greatly annoyed by persons who sit about in chairs to sleep off the effects of bad whiskey. He has caught and tamed several rats, and trained them to run across the floor. A sitter wakes up and sees the rats running, and calls attention to the fact, when he is told there are no rats there. This frightens the man, who thinks he has got the tremens, and he quickly disappears from the saloon.
Frogs are made pets of in some countries. In Vienna may be seen gilt cages containing small frogs of a pretty green color, which are kept in drawing rooms, and amuse by their gambols. Curious stories are told of the domestication of the tree-frog, which is a native of warm countries. It is said of Dr. Townson, that he had two pet frogs of this variety. He kept them in a window, and appropriated to their use a bowl of water, in which they lived. They grew quite tame; and to two which he had in his possession for a considerable time, and were particular favorites, the doctor gave the names of Damon and Musidora. In the evening they seldom failed to go into the water, unless the weather was cold and damp; in which case they would sometimes abstain from entering it for a couple of days. When they came out of the water, if a few drops were thrown upon the board, they always applied their bodies as close to it as they could; and from this absorption through the skin, though they were flaccid before, they soon again appeared plump. A tree-frog, that had not been in the water during the night, was weighed and then immersed; after it had remained half an hour in the bowl, it came out, and was found to have absorbed nearly half its own weight of water. From other experiments, it was discovered that these animals frequently absorbed nearly their whole weight of water, and that, as was clearly proved, by the under surface only of the body. They will even absorb water from wetted blotting-paper. Sometimes they will eject water with considerable force from their bodies, to the quantity of a fourth part or more of their weight. Before the flies had disappeared in the autumn, the doctor collected for his favorite tree-frog, Musidora, a great quantity as winter provision. When he laid any of them before her she took no notice of them, but the moment he moved them with his breath she sprang upon and ate them. Once, when flies were scarce, the doctor cut some flesh of a tortoise into small pieces, and moved them by the same means; she seized them, but the instant afterward rejected them from her tongue. After he had obtained her confidence she ate from his fingers dead as well as living flies. Frogs will leap at the moving of any small object; and, like toads, they will also become sufficiently familiar to sit on the hand, and submit to be carried from one side of a room to the other, to catch flies as they settle on the wall. This gentleman, accordingly, made them his guards for keeping the flies from his dessert of fruit, and they performed their task highly to his satisfaction.
Another, yet more remarkable frog, is told of by a Virginia gentleman: “Concerning this frog,” says he, “it has lived many years with us and is a great favorite, and the greatest curiosity is its becoming so remarkably tame. It had frequented our door steps before our hall door some years before my acquaintance commenced with it. My father had admitted it for years on account of its size and color, and he visited it every evening, when it would come forth at his summons, and by constant feeding he brought it to be so tame that it would come to him and look up as if expecting to be taken up and brought to the table and fed on insects of all sorts. On presenting living insects it fixes its eyes intently and remains motionless for a while as if preparing for a strike, which is an instantaneous throwing of its tongue to a great distance, upon which the insect sticks fast to the tip by a glutinous matter. I can’t say how long my father had been acquainted with it; from my earliest recollection he spoke of it as ‘Old Tom,’ ‘the old frog.’ I have known it for a great number of years—I can answer for fifty-seven years. It makes its appearance (always a welcome visitor) with warm weather and remains with us till fall, appearing morning and evening to our great amusement, having been trained to do many things, such as leaping, turning somersaults holding alternately by its feet and hands to a small rope, swinging and whirling, after the manner of a slack rope performer, marching erect oh its hind legs, and at the word of command going through the manual exercise. It seems perfectly good natured, and never shows temper, but is dreadfully afraid of a cat, on whose approach it will often leap four feet from the floor, with the utmost precision, plump into the mouth of a large stone water pitcher, and thus secure a safe retreat. Yet it is in no wise alarmed or disturbed by the presence of dogs, of which we have many about the premises. They all seem to regard it as one of the household and a ‘privileged character.’”