MY WIFE'S PETS.
It began with birds, shortly before I was married: I have often repented it since. There was a man selling little fancy imitation birds in Cheapside one morning. I was going down (says a writer in the St James's Gazette) to see my fiancee that afternoon, so I bought her one :it was light yellow—the colour of her hair —and she stuck it in her dress and was delighted with it; so was I. But that bird was “ the beginning of all the woes.”
Soon after that I was married. One day my wife asked me to get another of “ those little yellow birds, like the one you gave me before, you know.’ I promised to do so, but forgot about it. When she reminded me of it, some days later, I tied a knot in my handkerchief to remember it; but that day I coudn’t see a man in Cheapside. Next day I saw one near the Bank, but he wanted twopence each for them. Had I been a bachelor I might have felt justified in the outlay; but a married man has to be careful. When I mentioned this to Ella, she said no doubt I was quite right to be prudent and not to run into extravagance on her account j so, perhaps. I’d better not bother about her bird. I hoped that was the end of the matter. When I came in to lunch about a week later I heard a twittering chirrup, and saw my wife bending over a cage. “ You see, I’ve got my little yellow bird now!” she cried, holding up the cage and showing me a canary; “and it didn’t cost me a penny—far less twopence.” “Indeed,’ said I; “and how did you get it, then ” it appeared that she had got it from a man in the street in exchange for an old but very serviceable frock-coat of mine (worth about 8s 61), two pairs of socks(value, perhaps, 7d), and a garment (name not revealed to me) of her own. I hung the cage up sadly. Presently the bird splashed the water of its bath about. Several drops fell on the richly-bound photograph album that stood on the afternoon-tea table beneath it. that saddened Ella a bit, so I cheered up and congratulated her on her bargain ing capacities. Of the subsequent career of that unfortuneate bird there is little to say. It kept me awake the best of its first night by its querulous “cheep-cheep-cheep !”—plainly audible through the folding doors—and roused me at five o’clock next morning by the same method. Presently, to my sur-
prise—and not utter dissatisfaction, I observed that the creature was gradually turning brown. I let him go on with his ablutions, and by the time my wife came in to breakfast the little “yellow” bird stood confessed—a sparrow ! It was suggested to Ella that the poor little wretch should be set free. We opened the cage and the window ; the miserable little creature refused to move ; we took it out of the cage; it crawled up (I can hardly call it flying) to the cornice and sat there. I went off to town, and it would probably be sitting there still if on my way down I had not met the landlady’s cat.. . The blood and feathers made a great mess. The landlady tried to charge for damage done to her carpet, but (that as my wife pointed out to her) was the fault of her wicked cruel cat. After that Ella decided that we could scarcely expect to keep a bird with a cat in the house, and I quite agreed. When, however, she showed me a little white kitten a few days later, I confess I thought perhaps a bird would have been preferable. That kitten was a source of trouble from the first. He (or possibly she) began by knocking down a couple of Dresden china cups which Ella greatly prized. Then we removed all the other breakables, and Pussy tried the ink. He had a rooted objection to his original colour (white), and endeavoured to get rid of all traces of it with the utmost celerity. He would sit for hours in the coal scuttle, and revelled in the dust hole in the yard. One deed of his in especial I remember, which cost me dear ; he had been left in the kitchen one Saturday night for a quarter of an hour or so, just after the clean linen had come back from the laundress ; at the end of that time not a garment was fit to be worn. I represented to Ella that itj would probably come cheaper in the end to keep a saddlehorse, but no persausion of mine could induce her to part with her kitten. One day, however, she tried to cleanse the animal by washing it with soap and warm water; from this came three results: —(l)Hersilk dress wasirretrievably damaged ; (2) her hands were terribly scratched ; and (3) the kitten wandered away from a mistress who thus misunderstood his tenderest feelings, and we saw him no more.
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Bibliographic details
Western Star, Issue 1387, 7 September 1889, Page 1 (Supplement)
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855MY WIFE'S PETS. Western Star, Issue 1387, 7 September 1889, Page 1 (Supplement)
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