morning will find the bird just atrifle farther afield, for some instinct tells him that our dark-hairedPersian pussy is an epicure in her way, and would prefer philomel tofish for her matutinal meal."
I am more convinced than ever that for the first two or three nightsafter their arrival in this country the nightingales do not go to sleepat all, but sing on all day as well as all night, the marvel being thatthey do not get hoarse. But after a week the night-song is not nearlyso brilliant nor so prolonged, nor does it attain its pristine wildjoyfulness until spring once more gilds the fields with buttercups. Byday the song is not so noticeable, though ever and anon it sounds highover the Babel of other birds' voices. But, of course, the thrush mustsing, the blackbird must pipe, and vulgar sparrows bicker and shriek,and talk Billingsgate to each other, for sparrows having but littlemusic in their own nature, have just as little appreciation for the giftin others.
"Look!" cried Frank; "yonder goes a bat."
"Yes," I said, "the bats are abroad every night now in full force. Whata wonderful power of flight is theirs; how quickly they can turn andwheel, and how nimbly gyrate!"
"I much prefer the martin-swallow," said Ida.
"We have no more welcome summer, or rather spring visitor, Ida, than themartin.
"`He twitters on the apple-trees, He hails me at the dawn of day, Each morn the recollected proof Of time, that swiftly fleets away. Fond of sunshine, fond of shade, Fond of skies serene and clear, E'en transient storms his joys invade, In fairest seasons of the year.'"
"But I must be allowed to say that I object to the word `twitter,' sousually applied to the song of the swallow. It is more than ameaningless twitter. Although neither loud nor clear, it is--when heardclose at hand--inexpressibly sweet and soft and tender, more so thaneven that of the linnet, and there are many joyous and happy notes init, which it is quite delightful to listen to. Indeed, hardly any onecould attentively observe the song of our domestic martin for any lengthof time without feeling convinced that the dusky little minstrel washappy--inexpressibly happy. Few, perhaps, know that there is a strikingsimilarity between the expressions by sound or, voice of the emotions ofall animals in the world, whether birds or beasts, and whether thoseemotions be those of grief or pain, or joy itself. This is well worthobserving, and if you live in the country you will have a thousandchances of doing so. Why does the swallow sing in so low a voice? At alittle distance you can hardly hear it at all. I have travelled a gooddeal in forests and jungles and bush lands in Africa and the islandsabout it, and, of course, I always went alone, that is, I never had anyvisible companion--because only when alone can one enjoy Nature, andstudy the ways and manners of birds and beasts, and I have been struckby the silence of the birds, or, at all events, their absence of song inmany of them."
"Why should that be so, I wonder?" said Ida.
"Probably," said Frank, "because the woods where the birds dwell are sofull of danger that song would betray their presence, and the result bedeath. And the same reason may cause the house martins to lower theirvoices when they give vent to their little notes of tuneful joy."
There was a moment's pause: Aileen came and put her head in my lap.
"She is waiting for the story," said Frank.
"Oh! yes," my wife remarked; "both the dogs are sure to be interested in`Toby's' tale."
"Why?" said Frank.
"Because," my wife replied, "Toby was a sheep."
Here Theodore Nero must join Aileen. The very name or mention of theword "sheep," was sure to make that honest dog wag his tail.
"Two heads are better than one," I once remarked in his presence.
"Especially sheep's heads," said the dog.
And now for the story.
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TOBY: THE STORY OF A SAILOR SHEEP.
Now Toby was a sheep, a sheep of middling size, lightly built, finelylimbed, as agile as a deer, with dark intelligent gazelle-like eyes, anda small pair of neatly curled horns, with the points protruding about aninch from his forehead. And his colour was white except on the face,which was slightly darker.
It was the good brig _Reliance_ of Arbroath, and she was bound from Corkto Galatz, on the banks of the blue Danube. All went well with thelittle ship until she reached the Grecian Archipelago, and here she wasdetained by adverse winds and contrary currents, making the passagethrough among the islands both a dangerous and a difficult one. Whenthe mariners at length reached Tenedos, it was found that the currentfrom the Dardanelles was running out like a mill-stream, which made itimpossible to proceed; and accordingly the anchor was cast, thejolly-boat was lowered, and the captain took the opportunity of going onshore for fresh water, of which they were scarce. Having filled hiscasks, it was only natural for a sailor to long to treat himself to amess of fresh meat as well as water. He accordingly strolled awaythrough the little town; but soon found that butchers were unknownanimals in Tenedos. Presently, however, a man came up with a sheep,which the captain at once purchased for five shillings. This was Toby,with whom, his casks of water, and a large basket of ripe fruit, theskipper returned to his vessel. There happened to be on board this shipa large and rather useless half-bred Newfoundland. This dog was thevery first to receive the attentions of Master Toby, for no sooner hadhe placed foot on deck than he ran full tilt at the poor Newfoundland,hitting him square on the ribs and banishing almost every bit of breathfrom his body. "Only a sheep," thought the dog, and flew at Toby atonce. But Toby was too nimble to be caught, and he planted his blowswith such force and precision, that at last the poor dog was fain totake to his heels, howling with pain, and closely pursued by Toby. Thedog only escaped by getting out on to the bowsprit, where of course Tobycould not follow, but quietly lay down between the knight-heads to waitand watch for him.
That same evening the captain was strolling on the quarter-deck eatingsome grapes, when Toby came up to him, and standing on one end, plantedhis feet on his shoulders, and looked into his face, as much as to say:"I'll have some of those, please."
And he was not disappointed, for the captain amicably went shares withToby. Toby appeared so grateful for even little favours, and soattached to his new master, that Captain Brown had not the heart to killhim. He would rather, he thought, go without fresh meat all his life.So Toby was installed as ship's pet. Ill-fared it then with the poorNewfoundland; he was so battered and so cowed, that for dear life's sakehe dared not leave his kennel even to take his food. It was determined,therefore, to put an end to the poor fellow's misery, and he wasaccordingly shot. This may seem cruel, but it was the kindest in themain.
Now, there was on board the _Reliance_ an old Irish cook. One morningsoon after the arrival of Toby, Paddy (who had a round bald pate, be itremembered) was bending down over a wooden platter cleaning thevegetables for dinner, when Toby took the liberty of insinuating hiswoolly nose to help himself. The cook naturally enough struck Toby onthe snout with the flat of the knife and went on with his work. Tobybacked astern at once; a blow he never could and never did receivewithout taking vengeance. Besides, he imagined, no doubt, that holdingdown his bald head as he did, the cook was desirous of trying thestrength of their respective skulls. When he had backed asternsufficiently for his purpose, Toby gave a spring; the two heads cameinto violent collision, and down rolled poor Paddy on the deck. ThenToby coolly finished all the vegetables, and walked off as if nothinghad happened out of the usual.
Toby's hatred of the whole canine race was invincible. While the vessellay at Galatz she was kept in quarantine, and there was only one smallplatform, about four hundred yards long by fifty wide, on which thecaptain or crew of the _Reliance_ could land. This was surrounded byhigh walls on three sides, one side being the Pe'latoria, at which allbusiness with the outside world was transacted through gratings.Inside, however, there were a few fruit-stalls. Crowds used tocongregate here every morning to watch Toby's capers, and admire theni
mbleness with which he used to rob the fruit-stalls and levy blackmailfrom the vegetable vendors.
One day when the captain and his pet were taking their usual walk onthis promenade, there came on shore the skipper of a Falmouth ship,accompanied by a large formidable-looking dog. And the dog onlyresembled his master, as you observe dogs usually do. As soon as he sawToby he commenced to hunt his dog upon him; but Toby had seen him comingand was quite _en garde_; so a long and fierce battle ensued, in whichToby was slightly wounded and the dog's head was severely cut. Quite amultitude had assembled to witness the fight, and the ships' riggingswere alive with sailors. At one time the brutal owner of the dog,seeing his pet getting worsted, attempted to assist him; but the crowdwould have pitched him neck and crop into the