Читать книгу The Rat; Its History & Destructive Character - James Rodwell - Страница 12

I KNOW of no one thing so universally detested, or so unjustly charged with everything that is foul, treacherous, and disgusting, as the rat. I say unjustly, because whatever it does, like every other animal, it is only following the bent of its nature. But, at the same time, I believe a vast amount of the disgust exhibited at the bare mention of its name to be mere affectation. The most striking instance I ever met with took place one evening in London, where a friend of mine supped, or rather was to have supped, with a party by invitation, the good lady having invited her friends, in the temporary absence of her husband. I here give his own account.

The party met, and as he was the only stranger present, of course the formality of introducing him to each was indispensable. This ceremony being concluded, the supper was served up. There were roast ducks, fowls roast and boiled, plovers, curried rabbits, ham, lamb, &c., with vegetables of all kinds, and soups and sauces in profusion. They were all seated round the table in pairs, to please the peculiar notions of the amiable hostess. There were four Miss So-and-So’s, of different surnames, and four Master So-and-So’s to correspond. They were packed up two and two, and there was plenty of everything but room. Then there were Mr. and Mrs. Tweedle, and Mr. and Mrs. Button. These four, as a matter of course, claimed their matrimonial prerogatives. The good landlady herself was seated at the head of the table; thus making a comfortable picnic party of fifteen. The covers were removed, and the steam rose in one vast volume, to the evident satisfaction of all around. The fowls were disjointed, and they were all busily engaged, when there was one of the most tremendous squeals below stairs ever heard. All operations instantly ceased, and every one stared with breathless astonishment. Presently the hostess and my friend went to the door to ascertain the cause, when they found a terrible rushing up stairs. It was her hopeful son and heir, Master Bobby. “O mother,” said he, “see what a jolly great rat I’ve caught!” at the same time holding up an enormous fellow fast gripped in a gintrap. She slammed the door, and uttering a faint shriek, staggered backwards into her chair, and fainted away, or at least seemed to faint. All the party were on their legs, the ladies clinging fast to the gentlemen for protection. My friend of course tried all the little antidotes of which he was master; such as bathing the lady’s hands and temples with vinegar, pump-water, eau-de-Cologne, &c.; but all to no purpose. Yet, what made the matter still more appalling was, that Miss So-and-So was fainting in the arms of Mr. So-and-So; then her companion followed suit, and so the ladies dropped off one after the other, till it was quite clear that fainting was the order of the evening. As for poor Mr. Button, though himself a very diminutive gentleman, he was nevertheless the sole proprietor of a very large wife and six little Buttons, and in his ferocity a perfect lion-eater. His gaunt angel had fainted away at full length on the sofa, which roused him to the highest pitch of daring; for, in his vengeance, he seized a mahogany chair to smash the enemy, and in brandishing it above his head one of the legs came in contact with a splendid mirror, and made a brilliant star in the centre; but, unmindful of the accident, he still proceeded; and whether in imagination he saw the rat, or whether to frighten it I know not, but down he brought the chair with such a tremendous crash that off flew the legs, and there it sat bolt upright, like an old Greenwich pensioner without his stumps. My friend’s inward laughter, however, was soon turned to something more serious, for his fat damsel, as if to show them all how to faint, raised her hands, and giving a most awful scream, threw herself plump into his arms, which capsized him, table, supper, and all. He fell across the upper legs, which flew off, and there he lay puffing and blowing on the broad of his back, with this precious grampus on top of him. All was darkness, when up came the big servant, followed by a lesser one with a candle; in she went blundering, and fell flat on top of them. That was too much; but clumsy as she was, she soon scrambled up, and released him from his counterpane by rolling her over, at which, he says, she gave a groan that felt for all the world like the threatening rumbles of an angry volcano. Our hero, however, had no sooner gained his legs, than there was a rat-a-tat-tat-a-tat-tat at the door, followed by a ring-a-ding-ding-a-ding-ding. “Lorks, marm,” said the big servant, “if there ain’t master!—who’d have thought it?” It has often been said that what is one person’s meat is another’s poison, so it turned out in this case; for the servant’s announcement, which made her mistress faint in reality, had the effect of bringing every one else to their senses; and even the fat damsel rolled and kicked till she got on to her hands and knees, when my friend, by a powerful effort of physical exertion, succeeded in performing a chivalrous act by helping her on her feet.

The master, who was altogether unexpected, was a man of asthmatical and acetic disposition, and had a somewhat quaint and dramatic way of expressing himself; yet, unlike his amiable wife, he had a great aversion to company, since he looked upon it as the annihilator of domestic felicity. He no sooner entered and saw the real state of affairs, than, with all the brevity of Lady Macbeth, he requested the company to stand not upon the order of going, but to go at once! To which request, with all the etiquette of good breeding, my friend responded by taking his hat, and making his bow, never more to return.

Now, here was a scene of pitiable disasters, arising out of a little nonsensical display at seeing a dead rat! Had the mistress given Master Bobby a cuff on the ear, and ordered him to throw it away, she would not only have shown herself a wiser woman, but have saved all the misery and expense which otherwise resulted.

The fear of rats exhibits a mere childish weakness, which in parents, who ought to teach their children better, is highly reprehensible. What harm do they think a rat will do them, which is already more frightened than they are, and only wants to effect its escape. It is true that in some instances, if you press a rat into a corner, and will not let it escape, it will fly at you; yet it will not do so, if you open the door and let it out, or let it gain its hole. But if you pursue it to desperation, then, like almost every other animal, it will fight for its life; and you, like every other sportsman, must put up with the consequences of the chase. Here we may apply the old adage, which says that if we tread upon a worm, it will turn again.

A few years back I attended a rat-match in London, at which the dog which could kill the greatest number in the shortest time would win the prize. The first man that entered the pit brought in with him a dog, which was as handsome as the man himself was ugly. Time being called, he seized his dog by each side of the face, and, arching his long carcase, was soon in readiness. They now made a curious picture. From the fierce anxiety of their countenances, it became a strong matter of doubt as to which would mouth the first rat—the dog or its master. However, upon the signal being given, away went the dog, first killing one rat, then another; down went the man on his hands and knees, then pounded the floor most furiously, and roared and bellowed with all his might, to urge on the dog. The rats were falling in every direction, when, all in an instant, the man stood bolt upright, with his eyes staring like a madman, and his mouth wide open. But the cause, to the great amusement of all present, soon became apparent. It is the custom for those who enter the pit to tie a piece of string or garter round each ankle, to prevent the rats from crawling up their legs beneath their trousers. He had neglected to do this, and a rat was plainly seen working its way up his body between his skin and his shirt. With maniacal desperation he pulled off his cravat, and, tearing open his shirt, exposed his thin scraggy neck. Presently out came a pretty little glossy creature on his shoulder, and made a spring to the edge of the pit, which it succeeded in accomplishing. Heels-over-head went a dozen or twenty of the lookers on, forms and all; and from the general scrambling, kicking, bustling, and alarm, one might have thought that, had it not been for their hats and boots, the poor little frightened rat would have swallowed at least a dozen of them; but, as it was, the little creature made its escape; and thus were they allowed to return home to their families undigested. Suffice it to say, I have since heard that nothing could ever induce this man to enter the pit again, but that he always pays another to do it for him.

On the opposite side to where the rat made its escape sat an enormous publican, who had laughed most heartily at the discomfiture of his friends. His face was a perfect picture of the sign of his house, namely, the “Rising Sun.” He was lounging carelessly on the edge of the pit, and resting his chin on his thumbs, when in came the second dog,—a fine furious creature. Time was called; the dog set to work, and down lay the rats, one after the other, with a single bite each. Presently one seized the dog by the lip; he gave his head a violent shake, and twirled the rat into the fat publican’s face. To describe his agitation and alarm would be impossible; but, throwing his head back, the rat fell into the bosom of his coat; and, in his anxiety to get it unbuttoned, he puffed, grunted, and blew like a great hog with a bone in its throat; and thus ended his sport for that evening.

Unhappily, however, these rat-frights do not always terminate so harmlessly as in the preceding cases. A friend of mine once informed me that twenty years since his father took a house in Edinburgh, and that after he had taken it, he found, to his dismay, that it was swarming with rats. However, one day, as they were all in the kitchen, where the boards of the flooring were about an inch apart, they were suddenly aroused by two rats, which had commenced a regular battle beneath the boards. My informant told me that his little brother became very much alarmed; when suddenly one of the rats gave a dreadful squeal, and at the same time one of their hind legs and a tail appeared through the cracks, which so frightened the lad, that he sprang to the other end of the place, when it was found, to the great affliction of the family, that he was bereft of reason, or, rather, he had become a complete maniac; nor was it till some weeks had passed, accompanied with sound medical treatment and warm baths, that anything like consciousness returned. However, by degrees he recovered the possession of his faculties; but to this day he is horror-stricken at the bare mention of a rat.

This is only one case out of many thousands that might be mentioned, where consequences infinitely more serious than even this have frequently occurred through this foolish fear of rats.

The “Presse,” of Paris, some time ago related an extraordinary case of death from fright. A young woman was passing near the Rue Cadet, when she suddenly fell to the ground, exclaiming “The rat! the rat!” At first nobody could comprehend the meaning of her exclamations; but on being taken into a druggist’s shop, and placed on a chair, a rat was seen to run from beneath her gown. It was then evident that the rat, which had come from a sewer just as she was passing, had got between her legs, and that, when she fell from fright, it had concealed itself under her clothing. She was taken home to her friends, in a state of delirium, which lasted four days, during which time the only words she uttered were “The rat! the rat!” but on the evening of the fourth day she expired.

Now here was a melancholy occurrence arising out of this immoderate fear of rats. What had the rat done to her? Nothing whatever, except hiding in her clothes, and making its escape as soon as possible. Yet from the veriest fear she becomes deranged, and dies a maniac. I would that every female, and man too, were as brave and resolute as Mary Ann Gymer, who, at the police-office, stated that on the previous morning, while returning from market, the prisoner (whom she had given into custody) came behind her, and placed a live rat on her right shoulder. On turning her head, the creature made a bite at her face; but the instant he let go its tail it sprang to the ground, and made its escape down an area grating. The prisoner stood laughing heartily at the outrage; but such was her indignation at the daring of the fellow, that she ran up to him, and dealt him a most violent blow in the face with her pattens. The magistrate said he was not at all surprised at her inflicting summary vengeance on a man who had behaved so disgracefully towards her. The placing such a thing as a live rat upon her shoulder was enough to alarm her, and upon a more nervous person might have been attended with the most melancholy consequences. The magistrate gave the prisoner a severe admonition as to his future conduct, and assured him that, had it not been for her intercession in his behalf, he most assuredly should have fixed a very heavy fine upon him.