CHILDREN AT THE "ZOO."
FOR imaginative children the first visit to the Zoo is a day of joy, yet not unmixed with doubt. To such, and especially to the solitary child, the creatures have existed as living realities, yet unseen; part of the world of toys, which their bright fancy has endowed with a hundred traits, humorous, endearing, and attractive. These animals of imagination become their familiars, their equals, in their own .private world. Their characters vary as fancy paints them. Some are beautiful, some are the drollest creatures, some are benevolent and big; others, sal to say, are bai and spiteful. But for all, even the bad ones, there is the frankest goodwill, and a deep and earnest expectation of liking in return. And this it is which lends uncertainty, and quickens the beating of little children's hearts when first they go to the Zoo. Is there no cause for nervousness, for fond misgivings, in this introduction to old friends, this first encounter with the living embodiments of inanimate play. mates ? Surely there is, for the tender hearts of children. "Suppose, after all, they weren't to like me!" said one little girl, as she made ready for the eventful journey. The dreadful possibility overclouded the joys of anticipation. She passed through the gates with doubts and misgivings. She felt she was entering society " cn approval." The sudden thought that her reception might be cold almost paralysed her. She trod the paths with lingering steps and slow; and it was not until the wild goats had rushed to welcome her at the bars of their house, and the baby elephant had stretched out a friendly trunk in token of warm and instant welcome, that the shadow of fear departed. We knew another little girl, more confident and more practical, who re- quested a new hat with pink roses to wear on her first visit to the Gardens. She felt that so attired she would appear to advantage even before such select company. This intense desire for the friendship and approval of the creatures is perhaps the one anxiety of sensitive children about to visit the Zoo. Fear of the creatures is almost absent from their minds, so strong is their confidence in the freemasonry which they feel ought to exist between them and all good beasts. But sometimes sudden nervousness does seize the child, who from being, in imagination, on the most familiar terms with animals all and sundry, is suddenly to be ushered into their visible presence. We have known children on alighting at the gates to make a quiet but firm request that they shall not be taken to see certain creatures whose acquaintance they formerly professed themselves eager to make. These usually include the big bison, the crocodiles, and the wolves. Moreover, " bulls " of all sorts are a standing terror of children, and much as they love to gaze on the calves of the white English cattle, the yaks, and the wild oxen, they shrink before the gaze of the buffalo bull or the male parent of the Chartley calf. When taken behind the scenes in the cattle-sheds the dread of the bull is, we believe, always present. Children refuse to look at them openly, though few can resist the "fearful joy" of peeping at them through the latch-hole in the door. A small child thus viewing the surly bull bison once Blipped her hand through and touched the monster's nose. The bison probably thought it was a fly, and tossed his muzzle; but the child never forgot this daring and successful feat; nor was the bison thenceforth marked in her mental reservation of animals to be avoided. The list is not a long one, and for many children it does not exist at all. But those who possess in its most pleasing aspect the feeling of love and freemasonry as regards the animal world entertain, as a rule, distinct and accountable repulsion for certain creatures. They dislike the lamas because they spit, —a proper and becoming point of objection. The vultures they never like, because they are ugly and dirty ; and a camel which wore a muzzle was always an object of awe to children, not because he could bite, as the muzzle prevented this, but because it was wrong for him to wish to do so. Last on the list of the ineligible must be placed the monkeys. But as regards these, there is a strong difference of opinion. Nearly all the boys, and the matter-of-fact, noisy little girls, delight in the monkeys, and think them funny and amusing. But their more contemplative and serious sisters dislike them, and consider them a disgrace to the animal world, because they are rude, noisy, greedy, and often ugly, and mar their ideals. As one thoughtful young person put the case, "they oughtn't to be animals at all." There are terrible and grotesque forms among the animals, scaly snakes, hideous horny alligators, morose and bloated frogs and lizards. Gazing on these, the animal-admiring child feels its very blood run cold, but enjoys the awful sensation. It is one of the privileges of a visit to the Zoo to be for a moment face to face with beings whom Nature, as Dr. Johnson observes, "has endowed with horror and deformity," and to remain uninjured and undaunted spectators of such potent and forbidding monsters. Long may the snapping turtle, and the duck-devouring python, and the obese and yawning hippopotamus thrive,
portentous shapes dreadful yet dear to happy children's memories.
Intimacy and the closer companionship is what children earnestly desire with nearly all the other animals at the Zoo. This, by the way, is a word which they seldom use. They do not desire to diminish the importance of their .animals' home by cheap abbreviations. "Logical Gardens" is its honourable title among the youngest generation. There they wish to pat, feed, stroke, and, if possible, fondle all the creatures. If permitted, they would try to stroke the porcupine "the right way of his quills." The greater number, from the zebras and leopards to the chin- chillas and mice, they regard as possible pets, and all English children look upon stroking and hugging as one of the indis- pensable pleasures of possessing a pet at all. That is why they always prefer a kitten to a canary. As there are very few animals at the Zoo which are so wet or spiky that they cannot be patted, the list of favourites is a very large one. It includes all the lions, tigers, leopards, and bears, which they would like to pat but dare not ; all the kangaroos, prairie-dogs, antelopes, deer, gazelles, and wild sheep, which they can both feed and pat ; and all the small nocturnal ereatures, like the lemurs and lorises, which they are occasionally allowed to handle and stroke. Lastly, there is a mysterious population of drowsy or seclusive animals, which they have read of, or have been told of, such as the beavers, or badgers, or various ground squirrels and opossums. As these are scarcely ever visible, and the children cannot see them— they can usually smell them—they conceive that they must be very delightful indeed, and most particularly worth seeing, and the prospect of finding one awake in some future visit to the Gardens is a great and powerful inducement to go often and early, and stay late. Children who are really fond of animals will spend a whole day at the Zoo, till they are too tired to walk home. Next day, if not allowed to go, they will beg to go for a walk or a drive somewhere close by, where they can see, or at least hear, some of the animals. There were one or two points outside from which some particularly uninteresting creatures—wombats, we believe—used to be visible; and .children living near will bring the most thoughtful pressure to bear on their nurses or governesses in order to walk that way and enjoy a delicious peep at this side- show of the Zoo.
All the birds, except the vultures, are dear to their younger visitors ; but the bower birds rank easily first. Their notions of house-making and decoration are so like those of the children themselves that a common interest is at once established. Broken ornaments or trinkets are carefully saved up for these birds, and carried in hot little hands to the Western Aviary. Dancing storks and the fine cranes are also vastly admired. So are all the birds of fine plumage, especially the peacocks, Indian pheasants, and water-fowl. The sense of colour-beauty is very keen in children, and they thoroughly appreciate not only the brilliant colours, but the beauty of shades and tones, the exquisite greys, mauves, and "patterns" on the less gorgeous creatures. At the same time, nothing disgusts them more than a guide-book, or an attempt to "educate" them or improve their minds. They go there to see, not to listen, though if the creatures could talk they would be attentive hearers. They look upon the elephant as a kind of an,mal Cheiron, wise enough to teach them everything in this world, but one who kindly forbears, and carries them for rides instead. Still, they respect him, and are seldom familiar. As for the baby-elephant they simply dote on him, and a ride on his back is almost the greatest joy the Zoo affords. Ete is at once gentle, big, strong, and "a baby" who can be patronised and petted. All young animals are regarded with special affection, though for some reason young kangaroos in their mothers' pouches attract the most unqualified worship. The smaller they are the more "possible" they seem as pets which they might own themselves, and treat exactly as they would another and a younger child. But the whole relation of modern children to animals is a pleasing one. The latter hold a place in their esteem and imagination midway between their brothers and sisters and the outer world of humanity. This is abundantly evident from children's letters, in which the family animals are taken quite seriously, and always eeferred to after the last baby has been described.
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