A RABBIT-STORY.
ITo THZ EDITOR OP THY " SPECTATOR."]
SIR,—It is not often worth the trouble to write the biography of a common rabbit, but our Jack ' is an exception to the rule. We bought him from a poulterer at the door one day for Gd., so we know nothing about his antecedents. He grew into a huge brown creature, and might easily have been taken for a hare. One of his ears was lopped, which gave him a quizzical look which made us often think he was laughing at us. As time went on he developed a sense of humour seldom met with among animals. Our fierce little Scotch terrier tried many a time to spoil his temper, and at last ' Jack' resolved to have it out with him and assert himself. One day, instead of running away, as he was expected to do, he turned savagely on his enemy, and it was the terrier that retreated with one ear bleeding. After that they were on excellent terms of equality. They had many a scamper round the garden together, and then would rest side by side like the good friends they were. They both had a great dislike of cats, and chased them away the moment they ventured over our garden wall. One retiring too leisurely, 'Jack' bit its tail to expedite its retreat, which met with the terrier's boisterous approval. They were very fond of coming into the house when they got the chance, and then they proceeded to the very top of two long stairs. There the odd couple would sit gazing down on the world below for an hour at a time. When we looked up and saw the two heads peeping through the banisters, we often wondered what they were thinking about.
He knew all the members of the family, showing, however, a decided preference for his young mistress. When she went out on the lawn he would gambol round and round her until he was fain to lie down to rest and recover his breath,—never taking his eyes off her all the time, and looking so very comical. When he was called by name he would come in much haste from the most distant part of the garden. It was quite a pretty sight to see him stand on his hind-legs to receive a biscuit, or a piece of ginger-bread, which was the greatest treat we could give him.
One night, in the middle of a cold winter, our servants were much alarmed on going to bed about 11 o'clock to hear a noise like gentle hammering in an unoccupied room. A number of houses had been broken into just about the time, and the police had been going from door to door urging householders to see to the barring of their windows at night, so naturally we were all on the alert, and now we thought our turn had come. The whole family proceeded, as quietly as they could, at once to the suspected chamber, armed with pokers and lights ; the door was courageously flung open, and there on the hearthrug sat—not a burglar— but our Jack,' with his one ear cocking as usual, and an amused expression on his sly face, as if he were enjoying his practical joke. He had been hammering the floor with his hind-paws, as he always did when he was hungry, to attract attention.
But this was nothing to his next escapade, when he feigned death to escape destruction. The garden-gate was generally kept locked for his benefit ; but one day, as ill-luck would have it, it was left open, and a huge Dandy Dinmont, watching his opportunity, ran in and caught Jack' by the leg before he knew what was happening. One wail of pain, and he fell down apparently stone-dead. The wail brought out his young mistress, who carefully carried her pet into the house in her apron, and laid him tenderly in the terrier's basket. " How I wish I were a doctor ! " she said, " and could set Jack's' leg !" Her little brother hearing this, ran off, without a word to any one, to fetch a young doctor he knew a little,—a clever surgeon. Unfortunately the doctor was out, and the boy had no chance of explaining to him what had happened. When the doctor came in his landlady naturally told him that a little boy had come after him in hot haste—she could not make out what was the matter—some accident—something about a broken leg.
The doctor thought it might be as well to come round and see what was the matter. " I hope it is nothing serious ?" he kindly asked when ushered into the drawing-room. ' Jack's' mistress was much distressed that the doctor should have been troubled just then, when so many people were down with influenza and his time was so precious. "It's only our rabbit," she stammered, "that has broken its leg." For a minute the doctor looked as if he heard amiss, and then burst into a merry peal of laughter. " May I see the patient?" he asked in his most professional tone. We all adjourned to the sick- room, only to find the basket empty in which Jack' had been left for dead, and the rogue was sitting on the hearth- rug, cocking his ear and looking funnier than ever. He tried to hide when he saw the doctor, but we speedily caught him, when it was found that his leg had been severely bitten,— might have been dislocated, but not broken. He had simply been feigning death, as many animals do when they are frightened ; but how he managed to set his own leg remained a puzzle !
The end of our 'Jack' was very sad. He got very wet one day in spring in our garden, and was not allowed to come into the house to dry. A sudden blast of frost came on in the night, and he was found frozen to death in his hutch next morning. His mistress was from home when it happened, and sadly she missed her pet when she came back, and the terrier sits still before the empty hutch. The cook tried to comfort her mistress by saying, " What a good thing you had his photo took before you went away ! She thought a photograph of Albrecht Diirer's hare (from the picture in Vienna), which hangs in her mistress's room, was our ' Jack.' It is certainly something like him, only ' Jack's ear was lopped, and he had far more character in his funny face.—I am, Sir, Sze., W.
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