The Animal Story Book - Andrew Lang

Various

The Animal Story Book

Children who have read our Fairy Books may have noticed that there are not so very many fairies in the stories after all. The most common characters are birds, beasts, and fishes, who talk and act like Christians. The reason of this is that the first people who told the stories were not very clever, or, if they were clever, they had never been taught to read and write, or to distinguish between Vegetable, Animal, and Mineral. They took it that all things were much of a muchness: they were not proud, and held that beast and bird could talk like themselves, only, of course, in a different language.

After offering, then, so many Fairy Books (though the stories are not all told yet), we now present you (in return for a coin or two) with a book about the friends of children and of fairies the beasts. The stories are all true, more or less, but it is possible that Monsieur Dumas and Monsieur Théophile Gautier rather improved upon their tales. I own that I have my doubts about the bears and serpents in the tales by the Baron Wogan. This gentlemans ancestors were famous Irish people. One of them held Cromwells soldiers back when they were pursuing Charles II. after Worcester fight. He also led a troop of horse from Dover to the Highlands, where he died of a wound, after fighting for the King. The next Wogan was a friend of Pope and Swift; he escaped from prison after Preston fight, in 1715, and, later, rescued Prince Charlies mother from confinement in Austria, and took her to marry King James. He next became Governor of Don Quixotes province, La Mancha, in Spain, and was still alive and merry in 1752. Baron Wogan, descended from these heroes, saw no longer any king to fight for, so he went to America and fought bears. No doubt he was as brave as his ancestors, but whether all his stories of serpents are absolutely correct I am not so certain. People have also been heard to express doubts about Mr. Waterton and the Cayman. The terrible tale of Mr. Gully and his deeds of war I know to be accurate, and the story of Oscar, the sentimental tyke, is believed in firmly by the lady who wrote it. As for the stories about Greek and Roman beasts, Pliny, who tells them, is a most respectable author. On the whole, then, this is more or less of a true story-book.

There ought to be a moral; if so, it probably is that we should be kind to all sorts of animals, and, above all, knock trout on the head when they are caught, and dont let the poor things jump about till they die. A chapter of a very learned sort was written about the cleverness of beasts, proving that there must have been great inventive geniuses among beasts long ago, and that now they have rather got into a habit (which I think a very good one) of being content with the discoveries of their ancestors. This led naturally to some observations on Instinct and Reason; but there may be children who are glad that there was no room for this chapter.

The longer stories from Monsieur Dumas were translated from the French by Miss Cheape.

A Rat Tale is by Miss Evelyn Grieve, who knew the rats.

Mr. Gully is by Miss Elspeth Campbell, to whom Mr. Gully belonged.

The Dog of Montargis, More Faithful than Favoured, and Androcles are by Miss Eleanor Sellar.

Snakes, Bears, Ants, Wolves, Monkeys, and some Lions are by Miss Lang.

Two Highland Dogs is by Miss Goodrich Freer.

Fido and Oscar and Patch are by Miss A. M. Alleyne.

Djijam is by his master.

The Starling of Segringen and Grateful Dogs are by Mr. Bartells.

Tom the Bear, The Frog, Jacko the Monkey and Gazelle are from Dumas by Miss Blackley.

All the rest are by Mrs. Lang.

TOM

AN ADVENTURE IN THE LIFE OF A BEAR IN PARIS

Some sixty years ago and more, a well-known artist named Décamps lived in Paris. He was the intimate friend of some of the first authors, artists, and scientific men of the day, and was devotedly fond of animals of all sorts. He loved to paint them, and he kept quite a small ménagerie in his studio where a bear, a monkey, a tortoise, and a frog lived (more or less) in peace and harmony together.

The bears name was Tom, the monkey was called Jacko I.,1 the frog was Mademoiselle Camargo, and the tortoise Gazelle.

Here follows the story of Tom, the bear.

It was the night of Shrove Tuesday in the year 1832. Tom had as yet only spent six months in Paris, but he was really one of the most attractive bears you could wish to meet.

He ran to open the door when the bell rang, he mounted guard for hours together, halberd in hand, standing on his hind legs, and he danced a minuet with infinite grace, holding a broomstick behind his head.

He had spent the whole day in the exercise of these varied accomplishments, to the great delight of the frequenters of his masters studio, and had just retired to the press which did duty as his hutch, to seek a little repose, when there was a knock at the street door. Jacko instantly showed such signs of joy that Décamps made a shrewd guess that the visitor could be no other than Fan, the self-elected tutor in chief to the two animals nor was he mistaken. The door opened, Fan appeared, dressed as a clown, and Jacko flung himself in rapture into his arms.

Very good, very good, said Fan, placing the monkey on the table and handing him a cane. Youre really a charming creature. Carry arms, present arms, make ready, fire! Capital!

Ill have a complete uniform made for you, and you shall mount guard instead of me. But I havent come for you to-night; its your friend Tom I want. Where may he be?

Why, in his hutch, I suppose, said Décamps.

Tom! here, Tom! cried Fan.

Tom gave a low growl, just to show that he knew very well who they were talking of, but that he was in no hurry to show himself.

Well! exclaimed Fan, is this how my orders are obeyed? Tom, my friend, dont force me to resort to extreme measures.

Tom stretched one great paw beyond the cupboard without allowing any more of his person to be seen, and began to yawn plaintively like a child just wakened from its first sleep.

Where is the broomstick? inquired Fan in threatening tones, and rattling the collection of Indian bows, arrows, and spears which stood behind the door.

Ready! cried Décamps, pointing to Tom, who, on hearing these well known sounds, had roused himself without more ado, and advanced towards his tutor with a perfectly innocent and unconscious air.

Thats right, said Fan: now be a good fellow, particularly as one has come all this way on purpose to fetch you.

Tom waved his head up and down.

So, so now shake hands with your friends: first rate!

Do you mean to take him with you? asked Décamps.

Rather! replied Fan; and give him a good time into the bargain.

And where are you going?

To the Carnival Masked Ball, nothing less! Now then Tom, my friend, come along. Weve got a cab outside waiting by the hour.

As though fully appreciating the force of this argument, Tom trundled down stairs four steps at a time followed by his friend. The driver opened the cab door, and Tom, under Fans guidance, stepped in as if he had done nothing else all his life.

My eye! thats a queer sort of a fancy dress, said cabby; anyone might take him for a real bear. Where to, gentlemen?

Odéon Theatre, said Fan.

Grrrooonnn, observed Tom.

All right, said the cabman. Keep your temper. Its a good step from here, but we shall get there all in good time.

Half an hour later the cab drew up at the door of the theatre. Fan got down first, paid the driver, handed out Tom, took two tickets, and passed in without exciting any special attention.

At the second turn they made round the crush-room people began to follow Fan. The perfection with which the newcomer imitated the walk and movements of the animal whose skin he wore attracted the notice of some lovers of natural history. They pressed closer and closer, and anxious to find out whether he was equally clever in imitating the bears voice, they began to pull his hairs and prick his ears Grrrooonnn, said Tom.

A murmur of admiration ran through the crowd nothing could be more lifelike.

Fan led Tom to the buffet and offered him some little cakes, to which he was very partial, and which he proceeded to swallow with so admirable a pretence of voracity that the bystanders burst out laughing. Then the mentor poured out a tumbler full of water, which Tom took gingerly between his paws, as he was accustomed to whenever Décamps did him the honour of permitting him to appear at table, and gulped down the contents at one draught. Enthusiasm knew no bounds! Indeed such was the delight and interest shown that when, at length, Fan wished to leave the buffet, he found they were hemmed in by so dense a crowd that he felt nervous lest Tom should think of clearing the road with claws and teeth. So he promptly led his bear to a corner, placed him with his back against the wall, and told him to stay there till further orders.

As has been already mentioned, this kind of drill was quite familiar to Tom, and was well suited to his natural indolence, and when a harlequin offered his hat to complete the picture, he settled himself comfortably, gravely laying one great paw on his wooden gun.

Do you happen to know, said Fan to the obliging harlequin, who you have lent your hat to?

No, replied harlequin.

You mean to say you dont guess?

Not in the least.

Come, take a good look at him. From the grace of all his movements, from the manner in which he carries his head, slightly on one side, like Alexander the Great from the admirable imitations of the bears voice you dont mean to say you dont recognise him?

Upon my word I dont.

Odry!2 whispered Fan mysteriously; Odry, in his costume from The Bear and the Pacha!

Oh, but he acts a white bear, you know.

Just so; thats why he has chosen a brown bears skin as a disguise.

Ho, ho! Youre a good one, cried harlequin.

Grrooonnn, observed Tom.

Well, now you mention it, I do recognise his voice. Really, I wonder it had not struck me before. Do ask him to disguise it better.

Yes, yes, said Fan, moving towards the ball-room, but it will never do to worry him. However, Ill try to persuade him to dance a minuet presently.

Oh, could you really?

He promised to do so. Just give a hint to your friends and try to prevent their teasing him.

All right.

Tom made his way through the crowd, whilst the delighted harlequin moved from one mask to another, telling his news with warnings to be discreet, which were well received. Just then, too, the sounds of a lively galop were heard, and a general rush to the ball-room took place, harlequin only pausing to murmur in Toms ear: I know you, my fine mask.

Grroooonnn, replied Tom.

Ah, its all very well to growl, but youll dance a minuet, wont you, old fellow?

Tom waved his head up and down as his way was when anyone asked him a question, and harlequin, satisfied with this silent consent, ran off to find a columbine and to dance the galop.

Meanwhile, Tom remained alone with the waiters; motionless at his post, but with longing eyes turned towards the counter on which the most tempting piles of cake were heaped on numerous dishes. The waiters, remarking his rapt attention, and pleased to tempt a customer, stretched out a dish, Tom extended his paw and gingerly took a cake then a second then a third: the waiters seemed never tired of offering, or Tom of accepting these delicacies, and so, when the galop ended and the dancers returned to the crush-room, he had made short work of some dozens of little cakes.

Harlequin had recruited a columbine and a shepherdess, and he introduced these ladies as partners for the promised minuet. With all the air of an old friend he whispered a few words to Tom, who, in the best of humours after so many cakes, replied with his most gracious growl. The harlequin, turning towards the gallery, announced that his lordship had much pleasure in complying with the universal request, and amidst loud applause, the shepherdess took one of Toms paws and the columbine the other. Tom, for his part, like an accomplished cavalier, walked between his two partners, glancing at them by turns with looks of some surprise, and soon found himself with them in the middle of the pit of the theatre which was used as a ball-room. All took their places, some in the boxes, others in the galleries, the greater number forming a circle round the dancers. The band struck up.

The minuet was Toms greatest triumph and Fans masterpiece, and with the very first steps success was assured and went on increasing with each movement, till at the last figure the applause became delirious. Tom was swept off in triumph to a stage box where the shepherdess, removing her wreath of roses, crowned him with it, whilst the whole theatre resounded with the applause of the spectators.

Tom leant over the front of the box with a grace all his own; at the same time the strains of a fresh dance were heard, and everyone hurried to secure partners except a few courtiers of the new star who hovered round in hope of extracting an order for the play from him, but Tom only replied to their broadest hints with his perpetual Grroonnn.

By degrees this became rather monotonous, and gradually Toms court dwindled away, people murmuring that, though his dancing powers were certainly unrivalled, his conversation was a trifle insipid. An hour later Tom was alone! So fleeting is public favour.

And now the hour of departure drew near. The pit was thinning and the boxes empty, and pale rays of morning light were glinting into the hall when the box-opener, who was going her rounds, heard sounds of snoring proceeding from one of the stage boxes. She opened the door, and there was Tom, who, tired out after his eventful night, had fallen fast asleep on the floor. The box-opener stepped in and politely hinted that it was six oclock and time to go home.

And now the hour of departure drew near. The pit was thinning and the boxes empty, and pale rays of morning light were glinting into the hall when the box-opener, who was going her rounds, heard sounds of snoring proceeding from one of the stage boxes. She opened the door, and there was Tom, who, tired out after his eventful night, had fallen fast asleep on the floor. The box-opener stepped in and politely hinted that it was six oclock and time to go home.

Grrooonnn, said Tom.

I hear you, said the box-opener; youre asleep, my good man, but youll sleep better still in your own bed. Come, come, your wife must be getting quite anxious! Upon my word I dont believe he hears a word I say. How heavily he sleeps! And she shook him by the shoulder.

Grrrooonnn!

All right, all right! This isnt a time to make believe. Besides, we all know you. There now, theyre putting out the lights. Shall I send for a cab for you?