Chapter IV: Part I: Rover and Other Stories (2)

It is a mistake to suppose that cats are unloving and selfish. When a cat loves no one, it is usually a proof that no one loves her. She responds warmly to gentle treatment, and often shows personal devotion in very striking ways.

Remember that it is unfair to call a cat cruel and to punish her for following out her own instincts. She knows nothing of the pain she inflicts, and is quite innocent of any cruel intention. Often a word or two of reproof is effectual, but it is useless to strike her or frighten her. She knows no reason why she should not catch birds as well as mice. If something she likes to eat is given to pussy the last thing at night, she will get into the habit of coming into the house for it. If she is kept in at night, she cannot disturb the early morning songs of your feathered friends. Care and watching will be needed to insure their peace and safety through the day. Especially must she be well fed and have an early breakfast when she has kittens to care for, or she will bring birds for them to eat.

Remember that a half-starved cat makes a poor mouser. When she is exhausted with hunger she loses the sense of smell, and with it all interest in catching mice.

Cats grow very fond of places as well as of people, and dread to change their homes. When a cat is to be taken to another house to live, she should be carried in a cat-basket with openings in the top so that she can have fresh air to breathe and can see what is going on. Holes may be made in a common basket, but the cover must be firmly fastened with a strong strap or cord. Once arrived at her new quarters, pussy should be shut up in a quiet room with food and water and a pan of dry earth. At dusk, when the outer doors are shut, she may be allowed to go into other rooms with some friendly guide. For two or three days she should be kept in the house, and great pains should be taken not to trouble or frighten her while she is learning to feel at home.

Remember, in handling a cat, that it hurts her to be lifted by her front paws alone. Her hind legs should be supported at the same time.

Ribbons and collars are entirely out of place on a cat. They are likely to get caught on twigs and nails, and may even cause death. They certainly give no pleasure to the wearer. Harrison Weir, who has written a book about cats, calls especial attention to the danger of collars and ribbons.

There are so many cats in the world that if all the kittens were allowed to grow up, no good homes could be found for them. It is a hard thing for a kind-hearted person to do, but many little kittens must be killed or they would live to suffer. One kitten of every litter should be left to the mother cat. The others should be killed as soon as possible, but never in the mother's sight. Think how poor pussy would feel when she saw her babies drowned!

One of the greatest hardships that can come into a cat's life is to be left without a home. At the beach in winter and in the city in summer may be seen many homeless, starving, miserable cats, left there by their cruel owners. Once these cats were petted and well-fed. They know what it is to lie on soft cushions and to be caressed. Now, through no fault of their own, they are wanderers in an unfriendly world. Can any name too harsh be given to the men and women who turn adrift these timid, helpless creatures? Remember that it is a thousand times better to chloroform or drown the cat it is impossible to carry with you, than to let her take her chances in so wretched a life.

Cats are so nervous and sensitive, and so timid when taken away from home, that they must suffer very much when exhibited in cages at a cat show. It has frequently happened that cats have been made ill by the fright and confinement.

Cats and dogs sometimes take contagious diseases from each other, and if allowed to run at large they may carry the disease to children or to other pet animals. If our pets are ill they should not be turned out of doors, but should be kept by themselves in a comfortable, quiet room, taken good care of, and on no account should children be allowed to handle them. If we are ill with a contagious disease, our pets should not be allowed in the room with us.

To keep in good health, cats need to have access to fresh grass and clean water. They much enjoy being brushed with a brush that is not too stiff.

Remember that cats are delicate and easily injured about the head and should be handled carefully.

Agnes Repplier says: "Cats are extremely sensitive and dislike loud voices and bustling ways. They love repose, calmness, and grace."

STORIES OF CATS.

There was once a cat that lived in a house in London. Her master owned a country home also, and twice a year pussy made the journey between the two houses. She always showed great interest and pleasure when the trunks were brought out and the packing cases were being filled.

She herself traveled in a comfortable basket with openings at the top, which had been bought expressly for her. Often her master lifted her out and held her in his lap for a while, so that the journey might not seem long to her.

One day, when the usual preparations were going on, pussy seemed very uneasy. She had a little baby kitten scarcely old enough to walk, and she was afraid the kitten would be left behind.

At last she spied a box half full of dresses.

"There!" thought Mrs. Pussy. "That is a fine place for my baby. I can hide it away under those dresses and it will be quite safe."

When the kitten was discovered, carefully tucked in among the silks and laces, you may be sure that a place was found for it in the cat's basket.

In a monastery in France lived a cat who always came to dinner when the big bell rang to call the monks. One day she happened to be shut up in a room alone when the bell rang, and the poor kitty had no dinner.

As soon as she was set free she ran to look for her plate, but none was there. Presently the monastery bell was heard, and when the monks came to see what could be the matter, there was the cat hanging upon the bell rope, ringing for her dinner.

Another story is told, in the Popular Science Monthly, of a cat who knew the name of each member of the household. If she was asked about an absent one, she would look at his vacant seat and then at the speaker. If told to fetch him she would run upstairs to his room, take the handle of the door between her paws, mew at the keyhole, and wait to be let in.

A cat will often become especially attached to one member of a family. Dr. Gordon Stables, who has written a book about cats, tells a story of a cat named Muffle that belonged to him when he was a boy. She was so fond of him that when he went away to school she left the house and went into the woods to live. The boy came home frequently, and whenever he did so she came back to welcome him. Dr. Stables also tells a story of a cat who knew the footsteps of every member of the family, and before any one else could hear a sound she would hasten to the door. She also knew if a stranger knocked at the door, and would give a low growl.

A remarkable story is told in a French scientific paper. There was a certain cat named Cadi who lived in Roumania. The winter of 1880 was very cold, and her master, to save his fuel, often went without a fire.

One day Cadi mewed and mewed until her master followed her. She led him straight to the coal-box, on which she sat until he had filled a hod with coal. Then she led him to the wood-box, and finally back to his own cold room.

While the fire was being made Cadi rubbed against her master's knees with many caresses, and when at last it began to burn bright, she stretched herself before it, contented and happy.

A mother cat will go through fire and water to save her kittens, and she will fight most bravely to protect them. One poor cat, finding that she could not save her baby from the flames of a burning building, went back to die beside it, rather than escape alone.

A BRAVE GIRL. [Footnote: Published by Ticknor & Fields, 1867.]

A little girl was once coming home from school across Boston Common, when she saw a party of noisy boys and dogs tormenting a poor kitten by the side of the frog pond. The little wretches would throw it into the water, and then laugh at its vain and frightened efforts to paddle out, while the dogs added to its fright by their ferocious barking. Belle was a bright-eyed, spirited little girl, and her whole soul was roused in indignation; she dashed in among the throng of boys and dogs, and rescued the poor half-drowned little animal. The boys, ashamed, slunk away, and little Belle held the poor, cold, shivering little creature, considering what to do for it. It was half dead already, and she knew that at home there was no room for another pet, for both cat and kitten never were wanting in their family. "Poor kitty!" she said, "you must die, but I will see that you are not tormented;" and she knelt bravely down and held the little thing under water, with the tears running down her own cheeks, till all its earthly sorrows were over, and the little cat was beyond the reach of dog or boy.

This was real, brave humanity. Many people call themselves tender- hearted, because they are unwilling to have a litter of kittens killed, and so they go and throw them over fences, and comfort themselves with the reflection that they will do well enough. What becomes of the poor little defenseless things? In nine cases out of ten they live a hunted, miserable life, crying from hunger, shivering with cold, harassed by cruel dogs, and tortured to make sport for brutal boys. How much kinder and more really humane to take upon ourselves the momentary suffering of causing the death of an animal than to turn our backs and leave it to drag out a life of torture and misery! HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.

AUNT ESTHER'S RULE. [Footnote: Published by Ticknor & Fields, 1867]

One of Aunt Esther's rules for the care of animals was "Never frighten an animal for sport." I remember that I had a little white kitten, of which I was very fond, and one day I was amusing myself with making her walk up and down the key-board of the piano, and laughing to see her fright at the strange noises which came up under her feet. It never occurred to me that there was any cruelty in it, till Aunt Esther said to me: "My dear, you must never frighten an animal. I have suffered enough from fear to know that there is no suffering more dreadful; and a helpless animal, that cannot speak to tell its fright, and cannot understand an explanation of what alarms it, ought to move your pity." HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.

LION STORIES.

A large lion was once to be seen in a cage in London. He was so big and fierce that many persons came to have a peep at him.

One day his keeper opened the cage door and put in a little black dog. Everybody wondered what the lion would do. As for the little dog, his heart beat fast with fright and he cowered against the side of the cage.

The lion looked down at the small, shrinking form, but he did not growl or roar. Perhaps he was lonely and glad to have a companion. In some way he must have told the dog that he need not be afraid, for presently the little fellow put out his tongue and lapped his huge friend on the lips.

After that they were very good friends, and the lion often allowed the little dog to tease him and pull his mane. When they were fed, the lion stood back like a true gentleman, and let the dog have his dinner first. He seemed to know that because he was so strong, he must be gentle to the weak and helpless.

Gerard, the great lion-tamer, once brought home from Africa a baby lion. He named it Hubert and for a time it was his pet and playmate.

When it grew large, Gerard sent it to Paris. The next year he went to France and visited his pet. The lion was in a cage, and when he saw his master, he began to quiver with excitement.

Gerard put his hand between the bars, and Hubert snuffed it eagerly.

"Hubert!" said the lion-tamer. "My old soldier!"

With a furious bound the lion sprang upon the bars. He stood close against the grating and filled the building with his roars of joy. His enormous tongue scraped his master's hand, while with his paws he vainly tried to caress him.

After a time he grew more quiet, but whenever Gerard turned to leave him, there were the same heart-breaking moans and roars.

Daily, Gerard spent hours in the same cage with his pet, and the two were very happy together.

Several years ago a lion and a lioness were in the menagerie at Paris. Their keeper, Mr. Felix, was taken ill one day, and could no longer attend to them. The duty of feeding them and keeping the cage clean fell upon a stranger to whom both lion and lioness took a strong dislike. The lion would sit, for hours, at the end of his cage, with bristling mane and flaming eyes. He refused all food from the hands of the new keeper and roared at him so furiously that no one dared to go near the cage.

Days went on and it was evident that something must be done or the lion would become seriously ill. Fortunately, Mr. Felix was getting well, and one morning, intending to surprise the lions, he crept softly to the cage and showed his face between the bars. In an instant the lion sprang forward, patting the man's arm with his great paws and showing the greatest delight. The lioness also ran to him, but the lion drove her back and seemed unwilling that Felix should show her any favor. Fearing that they might quarrel, the keeper entered the cage and caressed them by turns. The huge beasts obeyed him promptly as if eager to show how much they loved him, and peace and quiet were thus restored.

Rosa Bonheur, whose pictures of animals are among the most famous in the world, loved the wild creatures that she painted. At one time she had for a model a fierce lion named Nero who, after a while, had to be taken away to Paris.

The day came when he was to go. The horses that were to draw the great beast's cage to the city shivered with dread at the odor of the flesh- eater. Nero was quiet, but he looked sadly at his mistress, and his gold-yellow eyes seemed full of reproach.

Months later the artist went to see him in one of the gardens of Paris. He was blind and dying.

"Oh, my poor Nero!" she said. "What have they done to you?"

The lion lifted up his huge head, and listened for a moment. Then, slowly and with pain, he crawled close to the bars of his cage, where she could stroke him. About the artist and her pet there were only rough men and women and boys of the city streets, but every man's hat came off, and there was not a dry eye in the crowd.

Rosa Bonheur did not confine her tenderness to dumb animals. In her prosperity she was kind to many poor artists who were working under hard and discouraging conditions. For years before her death she lived in a village on the edge of the Forest of Fontainebleau, and here she brought the wild animals, the tame pets and the human friends whom she loved, to share her cheerful, happy life.

EXHIBITIONS OF TRAINED ANIMALS SHOULD BE DISCOURAGED.

Those who enjoy going to the circus or menagerie or to any show of wild animals ought to consider how they would like to be shut up as prisoners all their lives, and forced to do unnatural tricks. Some animal trainers try to make the public believe that tricks are taught by kindness and that the animals are comfortable and happy; but persons not in the business who have had an opportunity to watch trained animals behind the scenes say that there is a great deal of suffering among them. To all these questions we can apply the Golden Rule and deal with these creatures that are at men's mercy as we should wish to be dealt with if we were in their place.

THE KING OF BEASTS.

I am a great lion, and one of the strongest animals in the world. I used to live far away in Africa, and when I roared, all who heard my voice were afraid.

I hunted to get food for myself and my little ones. I never killed for fun. It is only men who kill creatures and call it sport. Wild animals are not so savage as that.

You wonder that I am in this cage when I am so strong. I am afraid of men. They are wise and cruel. They made a trap and caught me. They have made these iron bars which are stronger than I am.

I have tried my best to get out. I am weary and homesick I need the wide plains, and the deep streams, and the fresh, sweet air of the forests.

Sometimes when I am asleep I dream of my old home. I forget the crowds who stare at me, and the smell of the sawdust, and the narrow, narrow cage. I think I am once again in the great, free, open country.

Then I spring up gladly, and there are only the iron bars and the low roof. I roar with pain and grief and my keeper comes to punish me with his sharp-pointed stick. When you see me in my cage, pity me, for I am very miserable.

THE SHIP OF THE DESERT.

The home of the camel is in Arabia. In that country there are many miles of sandy desert.

We use ships to carry goods and men across the sea; in Arabia the camel is used to carry goods and men across the sand. He carries heavy loads over the scorching deserts, and for this reason he is called the Ship of the Desert.

No horse or donkey could tread where the camel does. Their hoofs would sink in the loose, dry sand. But the foot of the camel is like a broad pad or cushion, and it spreads out as he puts it down, so that it neither slips nor sinks. It has also a very thick sole to protect it from the burning heat of the sand.

The camel is able to go for a long time without food or water. He can do this because he carries with him a supply of both. The hump on his back is a large lump of solid fat, which the camel is able, in some strange way, to use as food. He does not bite it or take it into his mouth, but it wastes away, and grows smaller and smaller, when he is making a long journey with little to eat. If the poor camel is starved, his back becomes quite flat.

The camel stores up a supply of water in his two stomachs, a part of which is lined with masses of cells. When the camel drinks, he fills these cells, keeping the water in them for future use so that he is not thirsty again for a long time.

The camel's sense of smell is very acute. It is said that he can detect water long before it is in sight.

When he is carrying a burden across the wild, barren places where no green thing grows, he is fed with a few dates, beans, or cakes. Sometimes he finds a dry, thorny plant to browse upon, but when other food is gone he must depend upon his hump.

In a caravan there are often thousands of camels. Without them, merchants could not send their goods across the desert, for no other animal could endure so long a journey under such conditions.

A HEAVY LOAD.

One day a workman, who was helping to build a new house, saw the driver of a large cart trying to back his horses into the yard. The cart was filled with a heavy load of wood, and though the two horses seemed to be patient and willing, they could move it but a little way. Then it would roll down upon their heels again.

The driver grew angry. He shouted at the horses and gave them cruel cuts with his whip. The horses stopped pushing and began to kick, without moving the cart at all.

By this time the workman had come up to the horses.

"Get down a minute," said he to the driver, "and let me see what I can do."

He went first to one horse and then to the other, stroking their necks and speaking kindly to them. Then he lifted off several heavy timbers and laid them on the ground. Finally he took from his dinner-pail a big red apple, which he cut in two, giving half to each horse.

When the horses had eaten the apple, the man mounted the cart and took up the reins.

"Come, now!" he said cheerily, giving the reins a little shake. "I am sure you can do it if you try once more. Now, then, there you go!"

The horses took new courage, and with all their might bent to their work. With a vigorous push and a great rattle of stones the cart went up into its place.

"It isn't easy to work when you are being scolded." said the workman, handing over the reins to the driver of the pair. "Try my way the next time. It pays."

FAMOUS HORSES.

The horse has been known as man's companion and helper from the earliest times. In Greek mythology horses play a very important part, as every one knows who has read the stories of Arion and the winged horse Pegasus. The most famous horse in history probably was Bucephalus (Bull Head), who belonged to Alexander the Great. Alexander was the son of Philip, king of Macedonia.

When the boy was about thirteen years of age, there was offered for sale to his father a superb white horse with a black mark, like a bull's head, on his forehead. His price was twenty thousand dollars. He was brought before the king, but no one was able to mount him. Philip was angry and was about to send the horse away when Alexander begged to be allowed to try.

He went up quietly to Bucephalus and stroked him for a few minutes with a steady, careful hand. As he did so he noticed that the horse was afraid of his own shadow dancing on the grass before him.

Turning the frightened animal with his face to the sun, the boy leaped lightly on his back, and using every means to soothe him, soon brought him under complete control.

Bucephalus became Alexander's constant companion. The horse was once taken prisoner by the barbarians against whom Alexander was fighting, but the concern shown by the great soldier was so serious that his favorite was promptly restored to him.

This famous horse died when he was thirty years old from wounds received on the field of battle. Alexander mourned his death as that of a dear friend and built a city as a monument to his memory.

Swift and Spurred On were horses that belonged to two Roman emperors. These horses were fed on almonds and raisins; they had ivory mangers and marble stalls; and one of them drank wine out of a golden pail. But I am sure they were too sensible to like such a life and would have preferred a handful of fresh grass and a drink of cold water.

There are many other horses whose names are known in history. There was Copenhagen, the Duke of Wellington's favorite charger, that carried him for ten hours through the battle of Waterloo. Copenhagen lived to a peaceful and honored old age, but he had a fancy for sponge cake and chocolate creams, and he died at last from eating too many sweets.

Then there was Roan Barbary, Richard the Second's favorite, and Agnes, who carried Mary, Queen of Scots. Washington's big white horse, whose picture you have often seen, was carefully tended and cherished as long as he lived.

In art the horse is the emblem of courage and generosity, and as we know him to-day he is not lacking in these noble traits.

HOW TO TREAT HORSES.

It is quite safe to say that of all animals the horse best repays kind treatment. The better you treat him, the better horse he is, and the more work he can do.

Yet no animal is more frequently abused and neglected than the horse. He is left standing in the cold without a blanket or only partly covered; he is whipped by angry drivers; he is ill fed; and he is kept in a dark, close stable for days at a time.

A horse is often brave in facing a danger which he understands. He can be trained to go into dangerous places without shrinking. But it is well to remember that a horse learns only by seeing and smelling, and that a new sight which he does not understand will fill him with terror. He is steadfast before the danger he knows; he is timid as a deer before the danger he imagines.

It should be the business of any one having the care of a horse to let him examine everything that may frighten him. If a horse shies, lead him up gently to see and smell what he is afraid of. He may not dare to go near it the first time, but patience and kindness will teach him, while blows and angry words will only frighten him more.

A bit of paper blowing in the wind is enough to frighten many horses. Their eyes are not like ours, and often on coming out of a dark stable they are so blinded by the light that familiar things look strange to them. To pick up flying pieces of paper may prevent a serious accident.

If a horse can be used without blinders, he will be more comfortable and can see better where he is going. He is not so likely to be frightened if he can see what is on each side of him.

Sometimes a horse will not cross water or bridges. It is of no use to whip him; he will only grow more frightened. The best plan is to wait until another horse comes along and goes over the bridge. Then the timid one sees that nothing dreadful happens, and he follows quietly.

A horse that is frightened in his stall will often refuse to be led out. If his harness is put on him, he rarely objects to following his master.

It is often difficult to get a horse out of a burning stable, but if a blanket or cloth is thrown over his head to cover his eyes, he can easily be led away from the fire.

In driving a horse, a poor driver often jerks and pulls the reins. This hardens the horse's mouth and makes it difficult to guide him properly. Horses learn very readily, and will soon obey their master's voice as quickly as the rein.

A horse should not be continually urged when he is doing his best. It only discourages him. He should have a chance to get his breath on reaching the top of a hill before he is started into a faster gait.

In hot weather flies are often a torture to a nervous horse. There are several good preparations for sale to rub on horses and cattle to keep off the flies. A fly net is also a great protection. A wet handkerchief, tied over the top of a horse's head, will sometimes prevent prostration from heat. In the south of France horses often wear hats in the summer, when they are in the hot sun. A wet sponge or a cabbage leaf is placed inside.

It is a mistake to think that a horse should not drink much water. If the body is over-heated it is always well to wait before drinking a great quantity of cold water, but while exercising, horses as well as men need to drink often.

Every time a horse has been out, his feet should be carefully lifted and brushed out. If a small stone gets fixed in the hollow part of the foot, it will soon make a horse lame. It is so simple and easy to take out the stones which a horse picks up in this way, that all boys and girls should learn how to do it, as soon as they are old enough.

The horse is very sensitive to the sound of the human voice. If the tone is loud and harsh he is frightened and irritated, while he is easily encouraged if it is quiet and friendly. Teamsters have a careless habit of shouting at their horses, which is unnecessary and unkind.

When a horse is balky see that the harness does not hurt him, and that the load is not too heavy for him to draw. Then try some simple encouragement, such as a friendly pat or a lump of sugar.

Lastly, the over-check rein is the cause of intense pain. The use of this rein is so common that it is well to know how painful and dangerous it is. A horse needs to put his head and neck down in order to draw a load well. The over-check is the direct cause of several diseases, and a horse often becomes knee-sprung from its use.

It is sometimes said that a horse looks better with his head in the air. Does not the horse on the right look quite as well as the other? He certainly seems much more comfortable and happy.

A horse driven with an over-check rein is more likely to fall, as he cannot see what is before him, and when he does stumble, he cannot recover his footing quickly. He can no longer move freely and gracefully, and no doubt he wishes that his master would care more about his comfort and well-being. Such a horse looks awkward and ill at ease, and would surely protest for himself if he could.

CATCHING THE COLT.

With forehead star, and silver tail,
And three white feet to match,
The gay, half-broken, sorrel colt,
Which one of us could catch?

"I can!" said Dick, "I'm good for that"; He slowly shook his empty hat; "She'll think 'tis full of corn," said he; "Stand back, and she will come to me." Her head the shy, proud creature raised As 'mid the daisy flowers she grazed; Then down the hill, across the brook, Delaying oft, her way she took; Then changed her pace, and, moving quick, She hurried on, and came to Dick. "Ha! ha!" he cried, "I've caught you, Beck": And put the halter round her neck.

But soon there came another day,
And, eager for a ride,
"I'll go and catch the colt again,
I can," said Dick with pride.

So up the stony pasture lane, And up the hill he trudged again; And when he saw the colt, as slow He shook his old hat to and fro, "She'll think 'tis full of corn," he thought, "And I shall have her quickly caught. Beck! Beck!" he called; and at the sound, The restless beauty looked around, Then made a quick, impatient turn, And galloped off among the fern. And when beneath a tree she stopped, And leisurely some clover cropped, Dick followed after, but in vain; His hand was just upon her mane, When off she flew, as flies the wind, And, panting, he pressed on behind. Down through the brake, the brook across, O'er bushes, thistles, mounds of moss, Round and around the place they passed, Till breathless, Dick sat down at last; Threw by, provoked, his empty hat,-- "The colt," he said, "remembers that! There's always trouble from deceit, I'll never try again to cheat." MARIAN DOUGLASS.

A REMARKABLE HORSE-TRAINER.

Nearly half a century ago, an American, named John Rarey, made a name for himself by taming one of the most unruly horses in the world.

This horse was named Cruiser. He belonged to an English nobleman, and was a race-horse of fine blood. Unfortunately he had a bad temper. No groom dared to venture into his stall, and one day, when he had been put into a public stable, it became necessary to take off the roof of the building to get him out. After this he was practically left to himself for three years. His huge bit was loaded with chains, and on his head was a large muzzle, lined inside and out with iron. No wonder that his temper grew worse and worse. When any one came near him he screamed with hate and fury.

Mr. Rarey had already met with such success in taming horses in his own country, that it was decided to let him see what he could do with Cruiser. "Kindness, fearlessness and patience will subdue him," said the American; "I am not afraid to try."

When the time came for the trial, and Mr. Rarey threw open the door as if there were nothing to fear, Cruiser was too much astonished to move. Before he had made up his mind what he should do, the "kindness, fearlessness and patience" of Mr. Rarey were at work. One of Cruiser's fore-feet was gently strapped backward in such a way that he could neither run nor kick. By another strap on the off fore-foot it was possible to draw up the other leg, and presently to bring the powerful creature down upon his knees. All the time this was going on, Mr. Rarey spoke quietly and encouragingly to him, until at last Cruiser felt that he had met a master and a friend.

In three hours Cruiser's owner was able to mount him, and Mr. Rarey's fortune was made, for the horse was a distinguished individual, whose return to society was hailed with joy. Queen Victoria expressed her pleasure at Cruiser's improvement and frequently came to see him and caress him.

Cruiser became the property of his tamer, and went with Mr. Rarey through the principal countries of Europe. Everywhere throngs came to see him and his still more wonderful master.

"My mission," said Mr. Rarey, "is to teach men that kindness, patience and firmness must be used in the management of horses. They are taught by gentleness and not by harshness."

Rarey gave free lectures to cabmen and truck-drivers wherever he went, and the crowned heads of Europe were glad to share the privilege of hearing and seeing him. Horses that had been frightened and angered by ill-usage became, under his treatment, mild and easily governed. The amount of good he accomplished it is not easy to estimate. He died before he was forty years old, but the lesson he taught is not wholly forgotten. Just before his death he said: "If I could only get back once more to the old farm, and put my arms round my dear horses' necks, I believe I should get well."

THE ARAB TO HIS HORSE.

Come, my beauty! come, my desert darling!
On my shoulder lay thy glossy head!
Fear not, though the barley-sack be empty,
Here's the half of Hassan's scanty bread.

Thou shalt have thy share of dates, my beauty!
And thou know'st my water-skin is free:
Drink and welcome, for the wells are distant,
And my strength and safety lie in thee.

Bend thy forehead now, to take my kisses!
Lift in love thy dark and splendid eye:
Thou art glad when Hassan mounts the saddle,--
Thou art proud he owns thee: so am I.

Let the Sultan bring his boasted horses,
Prancing with their diamond-studded reins;
They, my darling, shall not match thy fleetness
When they course with thee the desert plains!

We have seen Damascus, O my beauty!
And the splendor of the Pashas there;
What's their pomp and riches? why, I would not
Take them for a handful of thy hair!
BAYARD TAYLOR.

"WAITING FOR MASTER."

Though late the master's voice is heard above, And slowly lag his footsteps on the stair, No hint of weariness to him ascends From those who uncomplaining wait him there.

If patience, faithfulness and perfect love Are ranked as noble virtues everywhere, May we not claim for these three loyal friends A right in such nobility to share?