ANIMALS AT PLAY.
OUR estimate of the sense of pleasure possessed by animals has suffered from a double set of errors. The -older ethical writers were leagued against them, and de- clared that the only pleasures which they shared with our- selves were those of touch and taste, and that they had no enjoyment of the senses of hearing, scent, or sight, but such .as suggested the presence of their prey, or of their own .species. Modern feeling, on the other hand, has inclined to go to the other extreme, by attributing an excess of human emotion and sentimentality to these very simple natures. It will not, 'however, be difficult to show that, so far from the sense of pleasure in animals being limited to touch and taste, or the love of fighting so generously conceded by Dr. Watts, they do, in fact, share with ourselves many of the pleasant emotions excited by sweet scents and sounds, not for what they may suggest, but for their own sake,—amuse- inents, exercise and emulation, imagination, love of beauty, pride in accomplishments, " hobbies "—such as the mania for collecting art treasures—love of society, family pride, and personal affection. A logical order in which to con- .sider some of these powers of enjoyment, is that of their development as the-animal itself grows up. In them, as in our own case, the faculty of amusement comes early. Many animals are so well aware of this, that they make it part of their maternal duties to amuse their young. Even a ferret Twill play with her ferocious little kittens, just as a cat will with hers, or an old spaniel with her puppies. A mare will play with her foal, though the writer has never seen a cow try to amuse her calf, nor any birds their young. If their mothers do not amuse them, the young ones invent games of their own. Near Bembridge, in the Isle of Wight, last spring, a flock of ewes and lambs were in adjoining fields, separated by a fence with several gaps in it. " Follow my leader " was the game most in favour with this flock, the biggest lamb leading round the field and then jumping the gap, with all the others following in single file ; any lamb that took the leap unusually well would give two or three more enthusiastic jumps out of sheer exuberant happiness, when it reached the other side. Another flock of lambs, confined in a straw-yard, had steeplechases over a row of feeding-troughs stuffed with hay, right down the yard and back again. On a Yorkshire moor they have been seen to race for a quarter of a mile, round a spring, and back to the ewes. Fawns play a kind of cross-touch from one side to the other, the " touch " in each case being given by the nose. This game was played for an hour in the glades of Haddon Chase. Little pigs are also great at combined play, which generally takes the form of races. " Emulation " seems to form part of their amusement, for their races seem always to have the winning of the first place as the object, and are quite different from those com- bined rushes for food or causeless stampedes in which little pigs are wont to indulge.
Racing is an amusement which is natural to some animals, and is very soon learnt by others, and becomes one of their moat exciting pastimes. Many horses, and all racing-dogs, soon learn to be as keen on winning as public schoolboys in a half- mile handicap. It is a common impulse with horses to pass, or at least to keep up with, any other horse in their company, and this instinct, developed by training, makes the professional racehorse eager to win. He at least is no partner in the frauds of owners or jockeys. The year that the Duke of Portland's celebrated horse ' St. Simon ' won his first race—a nursery stakes for untried colts—there were a dozen or more other colts at the starting-post, near the Red House on Don- caster Town Moor. Many of them were ridden by small boys, who had the greatest difficulty in controlling 1 he efforts of the young horses to break away, and the eagerness of the colts to get a good start was quite equal to that of their riders. Those horses which refuse to start, or sulk when running, have usually been the victims of whip and spur in some race in which their powers were overtaxed; and the memory of such experience, which prompted one horse, when at walking exer- cise in a string at Newmarket, to turn and bite Archer, who was passing them in review, causes some others to shrink from the start. But this is the exception. More often defeat causes an exhibition of temper; and the public have not forgotten the performance of the savage ' Surefoot' in last year's Derby, who, instead of responding to the jockey's efforts to overtake the leading horses, did his best to bite not only them but their riders. But animal enthusiasm for racing is best seen in a dog-race; and, except on the high-road from some Dutch town after market, when the dogs that have brought in the vegetable- carts race back to their farms, this kind of contest is never seen in perfection outside the colliery districts. For those who are not privileged to live in the "coal-measures," Mr. Barnum's show provided an excellent dog-race of its kind. Those who saw the way in which his dogs scoured round the great oval at Olympia, not so much barking as shrieking with excitement, felt that it was one of the most genuiue of the performances exhibited. On one occasion, the writer happened to be close to the starting-point, and saw a curious instance of dog " jockeying." The race was a handicap, distances of from one to three yards separating the dogs competing, each of which was held by a man who placed one hand on the dog's chest, the other on its shoulder. They were already barking with excitement, when one, a dwarf greyhound, twisted its head round and looked at the dog next behind it. Apparently it thought that its rival was too near, for it began to whine and bark in the most persuasive way, licking the man's hand, and making earnest requests of some kind. Apparently he understood, for he patted the dog, and moved it on about a yard. This satisfied the dog, which then began to bark in a very confident manner, and on the signal being given, rushed away with the rest. It was leading when they passed the second time ; but the distance of the finish was too great for the writer to see if it won fn the end. In any case, it was a clear instance of manceuvring for a start, and showed genuine keenness to win. It is this spirit of rivalry which distinguishes the racing tastes of animals from their very strong enjoyment of feats of speed and activity for their own sake. The motive when a greyhound like Fullerton ' is galloping over the turf of the Downs for exercise, or running the last desperate course against his rival for the Waterloo Cup, is quite different. Yet animals keenly enjoy the vigorous exercise of their powers of speed. Birds especially delight in the free and fanciful use of their wings. There is all the difference possible between the flight of birds for " business " and pleasure. In the fine days of spring, our sparrowhawks and kestrels, and even rooks, will soar to vast heights without a flap of the wing, for pleasure alone ; and the herons will do the same, circling to vast altitudes. The writer once had the pleasure of seeing the first flight of two young kestrels which had been kept in confinement in a large room until their feathers were perfectly grown. For days they had " hovered" before the window of the house, anxious to try the almost unknown power. When released, they at once soared to such vast heights, sweeping ever upwards in opposing circles, that it seemed as if the sky itself could set no limits to their airy climb.
In any comparison of the games and sports of animals with our own enjoyment of the same amusements, it must not be forgotten that imagination, the " make-believe " which enters into so much of the best play of children, is also the basis of much of the play of young animals. Watch a kitten, while you tap your fingers on the other side of a curtain or tablecloth, imitating the movements of a mouse running up and down. She knows it is not a mouse. But she enters into the spirit of the game, and goes through all the movements proper to the chase. Or perhaps she has a ball. If you set it in motion, so much the better. That helps the "make-believe." The 'bailie " alive," and she catches it, claws it, and half-kills it, taking care all the while to keep it moving herself. The beautiful young lion which was given by the Sultan of Sokoto to the Queen last year, would play in exactly the same way with a large wooden ball, growling and setting up its crest, and pursuing the ball across the cage. It is perhaps a doubtful gain to find a philosophical basis for the wide category of children's naughtiness which comes under the head of "mischief." But is not the motive which prompts boys to smash windows, crack open the nice tight tops of jam-pots, poke sticks through pictures, muddy clean doorsteps, burn holes in carpets with hot pokers, light whole match-boxes at once, and even upset trains by putting stones on the line,—due to a wish for that satisfaction which is derived by getting a maximum of result from a minimum of effort ? Rightly directed, that is the object of most mechanical invention. Wrongly applied, it is "mischief." Apart from consequences, such acts are hugely productive of pleasure to boys ; and young animals share it. We once watched the united efforts of a litter of setter-puppies to enjoy the satis- faction to be derived from such activity, the particular object being the destruction of a fine bed of geraniums, an enterprise which promised a "maximum of result" with a set-off of a mere trifle of effort, if onoe a protecting fence of wire netting could be surmounted. One after another, the puppies charged the fence, only to fall back baffled, but not discouraged. Failure only made them more determined. With savage barks and growls they returned again to the attack, until after a des- perate leap and scramble, the biggest puppy rolled over among the geraniums. For a moment he was almost awed by his success. He squeaked, and sat down, but only for a moment. Then he hurled himself into the thickest part of the bed, and tore the geraniums to pieces. But this is a side of animal enjoyment which it is not advisable to dwell upon. It is too human. But even in their amusements it may be granted that they do share to a large degree the love of innocent sport and emulation which is not the least rational and healthy side of the pastimes enjoyed by mankind.
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