The Animal Story Book

. One morning, on waking rather late, I saw my bedroom door gently opened, and the head of Mich

happened

twist a bar of their cage, I don't know how, until th

ccur, and now you have only to buy your Indian

oachfully, 'but you won't laugh when you know

birds have

your fourteen quails, and all your l

compare the conduct

ys won't e

Mysouff will, an

has! I must se

l see a sight-a field of battle

selle Desgarcins was bounding gaily about in the aviary, while the Last of the Laidmanoirs was practising gymnastics on the top of the greenhouse. 'Well, Michel, we

a hypocrite. He has made it up wit

th his rival in the affection

so,

thought only human beings could

keys have frequented the

e, encouraged his friend by making horrible faces at me through the glass. At this moment piercing shrieks were heard from Mademoiselle Desgarcins; Michel had just caught her. These cries so enraged the Last of the L

moiselle Desgarcins?'

e Last of the Laidm

h loud lamentations, fled to the top of the highest tree in the garden. No sooner, however, did he find that his two companions were unable to get out of their cage, than he

a hypocrite he

compared it to that of Regulus, who returned to Carthage to keep his promised word, or to King J

f his repentance he was forgiven. He was put back into the cag

nt. Michel was of opinion that he should be shot forthwith. I was, however, opposed to his immediate execution, and resolved to wait until the following Sunday, and then to cause Mysouff to be formally tried by my assembled friends. The condemnation was therefore postponed. In

hey did opposite the aviary, had doubtless long harboured their diabolical designs. We saw Mysouff but half awake, still purring innocently, stretching himself, opening his pink mouth, from which protruded a tongue like that of a heraldic lion. He shakes his ears, a proof that he rejects the infamous proposal that is being made to him; he listens; at first he refuses-the advocate insisted that the prisoner had begun by refusing-then, naturally yielding, hardly more than a kitten, corrupted as he had been by the cook, who instead of feeding him on milk or a little weak broth, as she had been told to do, had recklessly excited his carnivorous appetite by giving him pieces of liver and parings of raw chops; the unfortunate young cat yields little by little,

re with a false character seeking a situation? Was it not the cook herself who found him-who took him by force from the heap of sticks behind which he had sought refuge? It was merely to interest and touch the heart of her master that she described him mewing in the cellar. We must reflect also, that those unhappy birds, his victims-I allude especially to the quails, which are eaten by man-though their death is doubtless much to be deplored, yet

f complicity in the murder of the quails, turtle-doves, and other birds of different sp