out of the dish of food provided for the cat ; and the watchman of the theatre noticed that, when any of the rats became unruly or quarrelled amongst themselves for dainty morsels, Coda-bianca restored order by a judicious cuff with his paw. The demand for food exceeded the sum allowed by the Council for the cat's sustenance, but when the circumstances were explained, the Council, surprised at the singularly friendly relations subsisting between animals that ordinarily are hereditary foes, very properly decided to increase the allowance so that the same liberal fare might be supplied. And there was, moreover, this evident advantage, that so long as the rats shared the cat's food, they would not be disposed to gnaw the scenery and other property of the theatre. Nor did they do so. In course of years Coda-bianca became aged and toothless, and his claws grew lanky and weak. For a long time past, too, the theatre had been closed, and the number of rats had enormously increased; indeed, a new race had grown up that knew not Coda-bianca. A revolution speedily took place in the rat community, and on the old cat offering to assume his original functions of keeper of the peace, the rats turned on him in a fury and bit him to death. Next day poor Coda-bianca was found dead in the middle of the stage. In commemoration of the extraordinary circumstances of his life, the young folks of Agnone gave him a public funeral. The body was carried through the streets on a bier, covered with black velvet, and it was followed by the numerous offspring (led by strings) of the famous pussy, all black with white tails, like himself, and of the same mild and intelligent disposition. As a punishment for the outrage of which they had been guilty, it was decided to kill the rats off by poison. There is a touch of the pathetic in this story-which appears to be well vouched for-that entitles it to rank amongst the earnest but less authenticated of Esop's fables, and it points a moral not unlike that of the lion that died of old age. A CHAT ABOUT Na subject as pleasant as the ceremony of choosing a Upon a time I chanced To walk along the green, Some homely dressed, some handsome, Had drawn their wain away, Her face I did admire; MAY DAY. And she was justly chosen To be the Queen of May." What a pretty quaint fancy this rustic royalty was, and how gaily "flowering May" was ushered in everywhere. For centuries young men and maidens, reverend citizens, and gay courtiers rose early, and wended their way country wards to gather blossoms and get a peep at the tall maypole. "Corinna come, and coming mark How each field turns a street-each street a park, Or branch; each porch, each door, ere this, An ark, a tabernacle is, Made up of whitethorn." "Rise up, maidens! fie, for shame! For I've been four lang miles from hame; ני So, we are told, sang the poor women, who tried to make an honest penny by providing lie-a-beds with the sweet-scented hawthorn it was thought so fortunate to become possessed of on this day; but more often it was admiring young friends who placed the fragrant branch at the door of whoever they wished to compliment. Sometimes, however, when they wished to express feelings the very opposite to admiration, a branch of elder would be silently left at the lady's door. I do not fancy it was ever much of an English fashion to buy "your may," for as old Stowe, writing in 1603, tells us-"On May Day in the morning, every man, except impediment, woulde walke into the sweete meadows and greene woods, there to rejoyce their spirite's, with the beauty and savour of sweete flowers, and with the harmony of birdes, praysing God in their kinde. I also finde," he adds, "that in the moneth of May, the citizens of London, of all estates lightly, in every parish, or sometimes two or three parishes joining together, had their severall Mayings, and did pitch in maypoles, mi with good archery, morice dauncing, and other devices, for pastime all the day long, and towards the evening they had stage-playes, and bone-fiers in the streetes." Not only in England was the day made much of, for a traveller describes how, passing through the streets of Argos in 1839, he saw bunches of flowers suspended over the doors of every house, and met a man bedecked literally from head to foot with wild flowers and long grass, while peasants with nosegays in their hands, and village girls with wreaths on their heads, passed in every direction. But this seems no wonder, as this festival is supposed to be derived from the ancient Roman Floralia, or festival in honour of Flora -the deity who was supposed to preside over fruit and flowers. I have read of an odd way of celebrating the advent of May, which was thus kept up in the Isle of Man. In almost all the large parishes they chose from among the daughters of the most wealthy farmers a young maid for the Queen of May. She was dressed in the gayest spring fashion, and attended by some twenty maids of honour, as well as by a smart young man as captain, who had under his command a number of inferior officers-no doubt pleased and ready to obey all behests transmitted to them. But in opposition to their gay train came the grim Queen of Winter, nothing less than a man dressed up to resemble a woman, and loaded with warm thick garments, shrouded in heavy woollen hoods and fur tippets, as was her captain and his band, all fully equipped to give an idea of the cold dismal season they had come to defend. When all was prepared, the two parties set out from their respective quarters-the one preceded by violins and flutes, the other by the noisy banging of marrowbones and cleavers-both parties marching face to face on the town common, where they engaged eagerly in a furious mock battle, and where if the Queen of Winter's forces could succeed in taking the fair Queen of May prisoner-she had to be ransomed for as much money as would pay the expenses of her foes-this being done, I suppose, by a general subscription. After this, the two merry companies separated-Winter retiring with her followers to divert themselves in a barn, and May and her party remaining on the green, where a general dance followed, and where, no doubt, all the youngsters in the neighbourhood assembled to "see the fun." Talking of youngsters, I must tell you of a curious custom that used to be observed on May Day by the boys of Stroud and of Grindsbury near it. Perhaps some of you know the fine new bridge at Rochester, from which one gets such a splendid view of the ruined castle. But it was on the old Rochester bridge that the boys of the two towns used to meet and have a skirmish on this particular day, not that they bore any ill will to each other, but it was an historical matter-to be commemorated fist and heel-why, no one was very clear, but it gave them a chance of a free "scrimmage" such as boys love. I read that "this combat probably derived its origin from a drubbing received by the monks of Rochester in the reign of Edward I. These monks, on occasion of a long drought, set out on a procession for Grindsbury to pray for rain. But the day proving windy, they feared that their lights. would be blown out, the holy banner tossed about, and their order much decomposed; they therefore, requested of the master of Stroud Hospital leave to pass through the orchard of his house, which request he granted, without the permission of his brethren, who, when they had heard what the master had done, instantly hired a company of ribalds, armed with clubs and bats, who waylaid the poor monks in the orchard and gave them a severe beating. The monks desisted from proceeding that way, but soon after found out a mode of revenging themselves by obliging the men of Grindsbury, with due humility, to come yearly in procession to Rochester-bearing their clubs-as a penance." But little marks the advent of “ May-day” in these busy matter-of-fact times. Even the few "sweeps," and the ivy-covered "Jacks-in-the-Green" are getting fewer year by year, though now and then parties still linger to charm our London children with wild hallo and odd capers. I wonder how many of them know about that legend, telling how a little baby lord was once lost or stolen from his fond parents and trained in the then dangerous calling of a sweep? How, cramped and choked with soot, he learned to force his way through dark and dismal chimneys until he could flourish his brush at the top, and so show that he had cleared a passage so far. I do not know by what strange chance the boy was, when about twelve years old, restored to his parents' arms, but it was on the first of May, we are told, and also that he it was who made this a special holiday for the sweeps, among whom he had lived and suffered, giving them annually, as long as he lived, a feast, of which he was the lord. But the tribulations of the chimney-sweeping race are fortunately ended now, and stiff black brooms are pushed where boys were forced to venture. Though the first of May is still known as the "sweeps' day," I think it is mostly a very much lower class of idle street boys that now engage in it-indeed, I very much offended a "gentleman of the brush," who chanced to be busy in my own house last year, by mentioning "that I thought, as he came late, he might have been engaged in the yesterday festival, figuring as 'Jack-in-the-green,' perhaps?" He twirled his broom-handle fiercely, remarking, I'd need to be very much out o' decent work, ma'am, before I turn to such tricks as that. Sweeps, indeed! I'd like to sweep 'em all away,” THE PUMA AND ITS PREY. F all the important members of the cat family the puma is that least feared by man. The lion, tiger, jaguar, and leopard, in this respect, take precedence of it. In appearance it is somewhat like a small lioness, with a tawny grey coat, and it has no mane. It is found only on the American continent, where it has a wide range from north to south, and by some it has been called the South American Lion. Young specimens have been rendered pretty docile, and tame pumas are fond of playing with balls and such toys. Kean had a pet puma called "Tom," which was sometimes allowed to come into the drawing-room. Another tame specimen on its passage over from Brazil to England struck up a warm friendship with some dogs and monkeys aboard the ship, not even resenting the occasional impertinences of the latter. Singular to say, it was very fond of jumping in and out of a tub of water, which was rather an un-catlike habit. It escaped one |
