18 JULY 1896, Page 18

ANIMALS AT WORK AND PLAY.*

THERE will be no disappointment for those readers whose admiration of Life at the Zoo and Wild England of To-Day tempts them to turn to Mr. Cornish's latest book, Animals at • Animals at Work and Play. By 0.3. Cornish. Lonciun: Seeley and Oa Work and Play. Good as the former books were, we are dis- posed to think that this is better still; or, perhaps we should say, more entertaining, as we will not pretend to draw a com-

parison between their instructive values. Nor should the author feel that we are slighting him as a serious naturalist by laying undue stress upon the amusing character of his

1/4 work. A keen sense of humour is ever the characteristic of

the true naturalist—witness Frank Buckland and Darwin himself ; no one who does not possess it can quite enter into the feelings of the animals of which he writes, or, rather, can succeed in explaining and interpreting those feelings to the mere human mind.

Mr. Cornish is an admirable interpreter, and is at his best, we think, when engaged in reading the emotions of animal life in its activities. Children and animals are two subjects which present a certain similarity in the fascination which they exercise over the thoughtful public, and present, too, very much the same difficulties of treatment. It is very rare that either finds a satisfactory exponent, the task requiring not only insight into the working of another and a different intelligence, but also a certain gift of sympathy which is not given to every one, even among those who really love children and animals. Both these qualifications Mr. Cornish seems to possess in full, and when we add to them his keen powers of observation, kept in constant practice, and a very pleasing literary style, we need be at no loss to account for the pleasure which we have derived from his book. Not the least among its charms is a quaint gravity of argument and narrative, admirably in keeping with his subject matter.

Take, for example, this delightful illustration of the pleasure in mischief that a puppy shares with the human boy. As the

author shrewdly remarks, in both cases the joy may be traced to a wish for that "satisfaction which is derived by getting a maximum of result from a minimum of effort " " Apart from consequences, such acts are hugely productive of pleasure to boys, and young animals share the feeling. We once watched the united efforts of a litter of setter puppies to enjoy the satisfaction which is derived from such activity, the particular object being the destruction of a fine bed of geraniums, an enter- prise which promised a maximum of result' with a set-off of a mere trifle of effort, if once 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 desperate 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."

The little touch of the puppy's hesitation at this moment of victory, when he squeaked and sat down, is perfectly true and graphic. But, as the author says, this is a side of animal

enjoyment that it is not advisable to dwell upon. "It is too human." Nevertheless, there is nearly always a close and

carious likeness between the forms taken by animal and human amusement. The racing play of lambs and fawns, and even little pigs sometimes, is very much like that of young children let out from school. To any one who watches the intricate manceuvres carried out by a flock of lambs it is difficult not to imagine that they are playing some ordered game like "Chevy Chase" or "Prisoner's Base." More sug- gestive still is the fact, remarked by the author, that many animals "make it a part of their maternal duties to amuse their young." "Even a ferret will play with her ferocious little kittens, just as a cat will with hers, or an old spaniel with her "puppies," — though, as he quaintly adds, he has "never seen a cow try to amuse her calf." That animals possess a sense of humour he has no doubt, and adduces several amusing instances in proof,— one of a cat, who, having conceived a great dislike for a peacock, used to express its aversion by suddenly rushing out and jumping through the peacock's tail whenever that gorgeous appendage was spread abroad. "The effect of this was to entirely disconcert the peacock's swagger, and leave the cat a moral victory." Another, and to all sports- men a very familiar instance, is the behaviour of a well-bred and self-respecting dog, when he is called upon to unbend to snit the humour of his master :—

" The spectacle of a carefully educated setter's demeanour at a stack-threshing, should his master take a share in hunting mice, can never be forgotten. At first he sits down and looks on. Then, after a little encouragement, he joins in the fun, wi h a look which clearly says, Well, if you win do it, I don't mind, just for once.' Then all his dignity goes. Ho curls his tail, jumps about, and enjoys the joke, but never loses his sense of the impropriety of the whole thing."

We might remark here—if exceptions may be held to prove the rule—that sometimes a dog is met with who has no sense of humour, and the contemptuous disgust with which such a dog will refuse all invitation to join in a game that he con- siders derogatory to his office and dignity is not a little humiliating to his master. Among the most entertaining of the author's chapters we would select those upon animal etiquette, animals' toilettes, and animals' beds. The toilette of some creatures, especially of birds, is a far more elaborate affair than most people suppose, and their scrupulous care for cleanliness might well put humanity to the blush. The author notes how some animals whose structure makes a com- plete revision of their own bodies rather difficult, are wont to depend on each other's friendly offices, and relates a case in which a cow and a horse, alone in the same field, mutually cleaned each other's coats. The result was not altogether satisfactory, as a cow uses its tongue in the pro- cess and a horse its teeth. Still, as the author goes on to remark, they were distinctly better off than the solitary giraffe at the Zoo. He, poor beast, managed to make his coat beautifully bright and clean with the exception of his neck, which could only be washed by another giraffe, with the result that he was condemned to display, like a careless school- boy, a perpetual high-water mark. The chapter upon animals' beds is illustrated with a delightful and most lifelike picture of prairie-dogs making their straw mattresses for the night, in which the artist has most happily caught the look of in- tense earnestness which characterises the species. The author recommends the adoption of the prairie-dog as a pet in the place of the uninteresting guinea-pig,—chiefly because of the former's superior abilities as a bed-maker. A single prairie- dog, perhaps, might prove a pleasant addition to the house- hold, as it has most engaging manners, but we would hardly recommend any one who respects his garden and lawns to try a colony of them. Even a single prairie-dog has its dis- advantages, owing to its propensities for burrowing. Indeed, the author has to confess of his own prairie-dog, that it loved to barrow into the springs of a sofa, and bark when any one sat down on it, rather a disconcerting surprise, one woald think, for a nervous visitor.

We have hardly left ourselves space to speak of the more serious and not less interesting chapters in which the author treats of several very varied questions in natural history. Among them we should like to single out for special notice an admirable account of the soaring of birds. The mystery of that effortless flight meets with what seems to us the only possible explanation, though, we must confess, it has never appeared to our mind to be a mystery that was difficult to explain. When once one had realised that the word "sailing"

best characterised the motion, it was easy to go on to the further supposition that it was as possible for a bird to soil

against the wind as for a boat.