PETS I HAVE KEPT.

New Zealand Times, Volume LIV, Issue 9867, 25 March 1893, Page 5 (Supplement)

PETS I HAVE KEPT.

Beware, intending purchasers of mice ; do not allow yourselves to be cajoled into buying largo bags full of hompseed for your pets. They never eat it, or at least if they do (so X gathered from scraps of conversation heard between the bars. P.S.—This does not refer to a popular concert, but simply to the mouse-cage) it always results in severe indigestion ; besides which, the seed is very easily spilt, and the bag it is put into always leaks ; also, if anyone happens to smile or sigh within a yard of it it scatters itself promiscuously about the floor, and furnishes endless excitement to house-mice, who play animated games of billiards with it all night. (This, besides being not conducive to sleep, is injurious to the health of mice, and encourages infant betting.) Thinking that, on the principle of ‘ two s company, throe’s none,’ the mice would be lonely, I bought a dormouse to keep them company ; and yet they never seemed satisfied. The dormouse, too, was always grumbling because his companion insisted on hauling him out of bed at unearthly hours of the day (he kept very late hours did that dormouse) to umpire for them at some interesting game of shove halfpenny, played with a nut, I christened by mouse Almug, and loved him like a father ; but he caught the rheumatics in his hind logs and had to

wear red flannel—and he couldn’t bring himself to like it a bit—it seemed to affect his eyesight somehow. At last the crisis came. One day Alrnug had taken off his tilings previous to going to bed (it was about 7 a.m.) when the eldest mouse camo to say, Wou'd he mind coming to play a game of hop-scotch, as they wanted one more to make up the rubber. This was too much for any ■sober right-minded dormouse to 'stair 1 ; : Alrnug rose to his feet and hurled an cxecra • , tion and a bit of brea I soaked in milk at the eldest mouse’s heart—the missile caught the eldest mouse full on tho plate chest (?) and he exnlred on the spot. The next morning Almug, the dormouse, whom I loved like a father, whether from shame or sorrow none can tell, committed suicide at breakfist in the milk-jug. This blow was almost more than I coubi bear—especially as I had had only one cup of tea, and bis means of ter minating his life prevented me from having a second. So overcome was lat the loss of my faithful friend that I could never look the survivors in the face without a silent tear. The bereavement was undermining my constitution, and so I thought it best to give my mice away to a great friend. (P.S. —He is ray friend no longer.)—From Chums.