Читать книгу The Rat; Its History & Destructive Character - James Rodwell - Страница 14

INSTANCES of tame rats are by no means rare, or of their becoming gentle and attached to those who feed and caress them. Mr. Bell says, that although the disposition of the rat appears to be naturally very ferocious, still there are instances on record of its evincing considerable attachment not only to its own species but to mankind also; and, no doubt, were not rats held in such universal detestation, the taming of them would be an amusement often indulged in. I have seen numbers of them, at various times, as tame as rabbits; but more especially in the Happy Family, of which I have already spoken, and which may be seen daily in the streets of London. The proprietor will handle and play with them without the least concern, and the little creatures seem quite pleased with his condescension. I called upon him twice, for the purpose of satisfying myself upon two points. The first was, to ascertain if he had any kind of scent about him which might, as it were, charm or stupefy them; and the second was to see if their teeth were perfect; as in the event of their being drawn, that would of course disable them from hurting each other, and they would soon grow tired of quarrelling and fighting.

On both occasions I had a rat and the ferret out in my own hand, and resting on my arms together. The ferret certainly was one of the most clean and handsome animals of the kind I ever saw, and had one of the finest and most perfect set of teeth I ever beheld; and so had the rat. These facts sufficed to show the groundlessness of my suspicions as to there being any drug, charm, or delusion in the matter; for they were as tame and tractable with me as with him, and quietly submitted to every examination without the least discomfiture. Indeed, the only uneasiness they evinced was while struggling with each other as to which should first get into the bosom of my shirt. The rat got in first, and was directly followed by the ferret. In they drew themselves, tails and all, and there they lay quietly snoozing together; so that passers-by did not dream that I had anything of the kind about me. Yet do not suppose that even I was a privileged person, because if you will take the trouble to call, and give the owner a trifle, he will take them out, and they will do the same with you as they did with me, providing you treat them kindly, and not pinch their tails, as some cruel passers-by do.

Here let me warn some thoughtless persons of a wanton act of cruelty. Among the rats in the cage there are several with portions of their tails gone, some having lost half their tails, others nearly all, and so on. On my inquiring the cause, the man told me it was through the spectators cruelly nipping their tails with their thumb-nails, as they popped through the wires; and that where they nipped them, there would their tails rot off. This, I am satisfied will be sufficient to induce any person of feeling to check such wantonness where they see it. But let me proceed with my narrative of tame rats.

In a wild and undisturbed state, how often are rats to be seen so indifferent to man that they will scarcely take the trouble to get out of his way. This indifference arises either from indolence in the man, pressure of business, or kindness of disposition; and thus are rats often charged with daring and impudence which, in truth, is only a confidence they have acquired in man through coming so frequently in contact with him without molestation. I have known instances of their ascending from the bottom of the house to the drawing-room, and eating the crumbs beneath the table that have fallen from supper, while persons were seated at the fireside in comfortable conversation; nor would they go out unless driven; but, upon being left alone, they would clear the carpet, and quietly depart.

In Neale’s “Residence at Siam,” the author says he was astonished, on visiting the houses of some of the inhabitants, to see a huge rat walking about the room, and crawling up the master’s legs in a cool familiar manner. Instead of repulsing it, or evincing any horror or alarm, he took it up in his hands, and fondly caressed it; and then Mr. Neale learned, for the first time, that it was a custom prevalent at Bankok to keep pet rats, which are taken very young, and carefully reared, till they attain a perfectly monstrous size, from good and plentiful feeding. The domestic rats are kept expressly to free the house of other rats; and so ferocious are they in their attacks, that few houses where they are kept are ever annoyed with either mice or rats.

I have met with another instance of the above kind. A friend, by trade a corn-dealer, told me that he had at home one of the finest rats in England, and that he would not take the best ten sovereigns coined for it. Upon further inquiry, he told me that he found it when quite young in the corner of a bin, and that curiosity prompted him to have it emasculated. The consequence was that it grew up one of the finest fellows ever seen, and as tame and playful as a dog. But for keeping the place clear of vermin, it was worth all the cats and rat-catchers in the neighbourhood. For my own part, I feel no hesitation in saying that any one who could feel a fancy for such a thing would find the results most satisfactory.

A man living at Witnesham teaches rats to perform various tricks, such as picking up cards, drinking out of glasses, &c.; and what is even more extraordinary, he has in his possession ten rats, the lightest of which weighs four pounds.

The “Naturalist’s Cabinet” gives an interesting account of a gentleman who, about thirty years since, was travelling through Mecklenberg, and was witness to a very singular circumstance:—“In the post house at New Hargard, after dinner, the landlord placed on the floor a large dish of soup, and then gave a loud whistle. Immediately there came into the room a mastiff, a fine Angora cat, an old raven, and a remarkably large rat with a bell about its neck. They all four went to the dish, and, without disturbing each other, fed together; after which the dog, cat, and rat lay before the fire, while the raven hopped about the room. The landlord, after accounting for the familiarity which existed among these animals, informed his guest that the rat was by far the most useful of the four; for the noise he made with his bell had completely freed the house of rats and mice, with which it had been previously seriously infested.” This I know, to a certain extent, would have the effect mentioned. But that is not removing the national evil; it is only driving the calamity from your own house into that of your neighbours, and to the country at large. It matters little as to whether the rats have eaten up all farmer Smith’s corn, or farmer Johnson’s; the corn is missing in the market, and hence is the price of bread affected, without any advantage to the farmer, who has no corn to sell. But I shall mention this subject hereafter, and at present proceed with the taming of rats.

In Lee’s “Habits and Instinct of Animals,” it is related that two ladies were walking out one day and were accosted by a man who requested them to buy a beautiful little dog which he carried in his arms, and which was covered all over with beautiful, long, curly, white hair. Such things are not uncommon in that part of London, and the ladies passed on without heeding him. He followed, and repeated his intreaties, stating that, as it was the last he had to sell, they should have it at a reasonable price. They looked at the animal, and thought it a most exquisite little creature. The result was that they purchased it. The man took it home, received the money, and leaving the animal in the arms of one of the ladies, went about his business like an honest man. In a short time the imaginary dog, which had been very quiet in spite of a restless bright eye, began to show symptoms of uneasiness; and, as he ran about the room, he exhibited some unusual movements, which rather alarmed the fair purchasers. At last, to their great dismay, the dog ran squeaking up one of the window-curtains; so that when the gentleman of the house returned home a few minutes after, he found the ladies in consternation, and right glad to have his assistance. He vigorously seized the animal, took out his penknife, cut off its covering, and displayed a large rat to their astonished eyes, and to its own destruction. But Mr. Lee of course vouches for the truth of this upon the respectability of his authors, and consequently makes apparent two facts—first, that the ladies were perfectly ignorant of the peculiarity of dogs’ teeth, &c.; secondly, that the rat must have been a very tame one to bear so much handling.

It is well known that the Japanese tame rats, and teach them to perform many entertaining tricks, and, thus instructed, they are exhibited as a show for the diversion of the public. Indeed there is no doubt but, through the natural shrewdness of the rat, he might be taught to do many extraordinary feats.

In Belgium, a short time ago, there was a company of theatrical rats, which went through dramatic performances with admirable success. They were dressed up like men and women, walked on their hind legs, and mimicked, with curious exactness, many of the ordinary stage effects. On one point only were they intractable. During the performance the manager had to bring in some food; but the instant it made its appearance, they forgot their parts, the master, and the audience, and, falling on all fours, set to work most heartily to devour it; that done, the performance concluded by their hanging the stuffed cat, and dancing right merrily round it.

At Rochester, some few years ago, a singular incident occurred. The landlords of the Victualling Office Tavern had a beautiful tortoiseshell cat, the admiration of every one who came to the house. One day she kittened, and all the kittens were drowned. The poor cat felt the loss of her sucklings, and was whining and mewing all over the place in evident distress, but no notice was taken of her. But some few days after, some of the children came across her nest, and saw her in the act of suckling what they thought to be a young kitten. They mentioned the circumstance at the dinner-table, and were laughed at for their trouble; but upon their insisting on the fact, it created some curiosity, and a search was the result, when, to their great surprise, they found the cat suckling, not a kitten, but a young rat! Now it was quite clear that the poor cat had been in extreme pain from an overcharge of milk, and meeting with the young rat, had fondled it up, and from its giving her ease by drawing her milk, her attachment had grown as strong for the rat as for one of her own progeny, which was afterwards manifested to the great delight of numerous customers. If a strange dog came in the house, she would defend the rat with all the vicious determination of her nature; and even after he had grown up a fine, strong fellow, he would, in time of danger, run to her for protection. This curious circumstance spread far and wide, and proved a great attraction to the house; for the rat was as tame as a kitten, and would allow any of the children or customers to nurse and play with it. But, however, to the great sorrow of the landlords and their patrons, a traveller one day called, and, in the absence of the cat, his dog killed poor Master Rat. This was not only a pitiable affair, but a great loss to the landlords; for there is no doubt but many a man has made his fortune by a far less pleasing and remarkable phenomenon in nature.

At the railway stables at Wolverhampton, there was a cat which had a litter of five kittens. Three of the kittens were drowned shortly after their birth, and the cat seemed much distressed at their disappearance. She soon after, however, discovered a rat’s nest with a large litter of young ones, upon which she killed the old rat and all the litter but three, which three she carried to her own nest, and suckled them with her own remaining two kittens.

Now this certainly goes far to prove that cats are not such implacable enemies to rats as is generally believed, or they would not, in a state of nature, be so far reconciled, as not only to live with them, but actually, from their own choice, to suckle them in their infancy.

At a tavern in Woolwich, there was to be seen a tame piebald rat, most curiously marked, which was as docile as a puppy, and considered a great natural curiosity.

A friend of mine informed me, that when at home in Edinburgh, he kept a number of rabbits for amusement; and on the floor of the washhouse, where he kept them, lay the remains of an old iron pot which had been used as a copper; but, from some cause or other, a piece had flown out of one side, thus rendering it useless. One morning, when he entered the washhouse, he saw a beautiful and commodious nest of hay, straw, &c., built in the old pot, which was then quite warm. The neatness of the snuggery so excited his wonderment and curiosity, that he resolved upon leaving it alone, thinking he might presently come across the owner. Nor was he far wrong; for on the following morning, on going to feed his rabbits, he looked into the nest, and there lay fast asleep one of the finest rats he ever beheld. He said he could not find in his heart to hurt it, as it was such a beautiful, clean, glossy creature. Presently it awoke, and, instead of showing any alarm or desire to escape, it simply raised its head, and, after looking drowsily at him, opened its mouth, and gaped most lustily; then doubled itself up, and went off to sleep again; thus leaving my friend to mind his own business, and not interfere with him. This off-handed indifference so pleased my informant, that he laid him down some food, and thus left him unmolested to finish his sleep. For some time things went on in this way, till he proceeded, from feeding, to stroking him down the back, and tickling him with his fingers; and in this way was there a perfect friendliness established between them. However, one morning when he went into the washhouse, the rat met him half-way, and with tail erect he reared up on his hind legs, and opened his mouth with such menacing aspect and gesture, that my friend became alarmed, and thought it was time their familiarity should cease; so he ran for the poker, and on his return he found the rat in the iron pot, where he killed him. But he has regretted it ever since, believing, as he now does, that it only wanted to play with him.

A full-grown male rat was caught at an inn in Clerkenwell, and became so tame that the landlord’s son used to carry it about in his pocket. It answered to the name of “Tommy,” and was very fond of stretching on the rug before the fire along with the cat. For the amusement of the customers, the master would sometimes catch half a dozen mice, and put them into a pan or tub, and then master Tommy would kill them one after the other for the gratification of the lookers-on. His master said he was of infinite value in the cellar, as he used to decoy other rats, sometimes five or six of a night, into the traps, but always avoided them himself, and when his master wanted him it was only necessary to whistle, or call “Tommy, Tommy,” and he would instantly come forward, and crawl up his legs to be caressed.

Some time ago the driver of an omnibus was moving some trusses of hay in his hay-loft, when, snugly coiled up in a corner, he found a little miserable-looking rat, whose mamma, having tucked him carefully up in bed, had gone out on a foraging expedition to find something for her darling’s supper. The little fellow, being of a remarkably piebald colour, excited the pity of the omnibus driver, who picked him up, and took him home to his family. The children soon took to their little pet, and named him Ikey, after their eldest brother, whose name was Isaac. The little fellow soon grew up, and returned the kindness he had received by excessive tameness and gentleness towards every member of the family. He was, therefore, allowed to roam about the house at perfect liberty. His favourite seat was inside the fender or on the clean white hearth; but, strange to say, he would never get on it unless it was perfectly clean. On one occasion, when the good wife was cleaning the hearth, she gave master Ikey a push; so up he jumped on the hob, and, finding it an agreeable resting-place, there stayed. As the fire grew brighter and brighter, so the hob became warmer and warmer, till at last it became most unpleasantly hot; he would not move from his perch, but rolled over and over, till the hair on his legs and body became quite singed with the heat; and had they not taken him off, there is no knowing what might have been the consequences. His master held a perfect control over him, and had made, for his especial benefit, a little whip, with which he used to make him sit upon his hind legs in a begging posture when bid, or jump through a whalebone hoop, drag a small cart to which he was harnessed, carry sticks, money, &c., in his mouth, and perform many other amusing tricks. He perfectly understood the use of the whip, for whenever it was produced, and his master’s face or voice betrayed anger, in fear and trembling he would scamper up the sides of the room, or up the curtain, and perch himself on the cornice, waiting till a kind word from his master brought him down hopping about and squeaking with delight. In these gambols of mirth he would run round so fast after his tail that it was impossible to tell what the whirling object was, and his master would be forced to pick him up to stop him. At night he would exhibit another cat-like propensity, for he would stretch himself out at full length before the fire on the rug, and seemed vastly to relish this luxurious way of enjoying himself. This love of warmth made him sometimes a troublesome creature, for when he found the fire gone out, and the room becoming cold, he would clamber up gently on to his master’s bed, and bury himself under the clothes. He was never allowed to remain there long, if they were awake, but was made to turn out. In that case he would take up his quarters in the folds of his master’s clothes, which were placed on a chair; and there he was allowed to remain till the morning. The man became so fond of him, that he taught him, at the word of command, to come into his great-coat pocket. In the morning, when he went out to his daily occupation of driving his omnibus, it was only necessary to say “Come along, Ikey!” and the anxious Ikey was instantly crawling up his legs. He did not carry him all day in his pocket, but put him in the boot of his omnibus, to act as guard to his dinner. But why did not the rat eat his master’s dinner? “Because,” said the man, “I always gives him his belly-full when I has my own breakfast before starting.” The dinner was never touched, except when there happened to be plum-pudding. This Ikey could not resist. His liking overcame his sense of right, and he invariably nibbled out the plums, leaving the rest for his master. Ikey acted as a famous guard to the provisions; for whenever any of the idle vagabonds, who always lounge about the public-houses where the omnibuses bait, attempted to commit a theft by running off with the bundle out of the boot, he would fly out at them from under the straw; and the villains would run as if his Satanic Majesty were after them; and he thus saved his master’s and other property.