Uncle Joe's Stories

Yet, should we ever chance to meet,
My elves the twain will kindly greet.
And ye, in prose or minstrel lays,
When ye shall read of woodland fays,
Have friendly feeling for the elves
Who love you as they love themselves.
No more amid our glade to roam —
The brother leads his sister home.
From Fairy-land the twain depart,
To gladden soon a mother's heart,
And make a saddened home, to-night,
Once more enraptured with delight.
True brother! thou hast brought thine aid
To rob us of our captured maid;
Yet wast thou right, and for the same
'Tis not for fairy lips to blame.
And thou, sweet Eve, who thus has left
Thy elf companions all bereft,
Since thou with us no more wilt dwell,
We wish thee, lovingly, farewell."

Then the fairy stepped lightly and gracefully back, still waving her hand; the music grew fainter and fainter, and ere long both the sound and the fairy form melted away from the sight and hearing of the brother and sister, though the last lingering word, Farewell, once and again repeated, still seemed to fall softly on their ears as they left the glade.

They hastened home as fast as they could, and you may imagine the excitement with which their arrival was greeted. Evelyn and her mother devoured each other with kisses, and the father had such share of them as was left for him. Philip was at once restored to favour, and not only was his former silence forgiven, but every amends was made to him, in the way of diet, for his fasting upon the previous day.

Mrs. Trimmer was so rejoiced at the happy conclusion of the adventure, that she did not scold Evelyn for a month, in consequence of which her progress in French and German was visibly slower than for some time past.

Everybody in the house was glad to get the child back, and the only provoking part of it was that, even after her extraordinary adventures, disbelief in fairies still existed even in that well-informed household. One gave one explanation of Evelyn's absence, and one another; one laid it to the gipsies, another said she had run away and hid in a hollow tree, but nobody seemed to be entirely satisfied with the plain, unvarnished truth as I have told it to you.

But so it is in this wicked world. Invent a perfectly untrue story, but make it seem a little probable, and everybody will believe you, and not throw the slightest doubt upon your veracity. On the other hand, let an extraordinary thing really happen, and if it falls to your lot to tell it, you are generally considered a "story-teller" in the worst sense of the word.

This makes me so cross sometimes, that I think I will give up writing about fairies altogether, and only write about grave and serious subjects. But if I do that, I am afraid that nobody except members of parliament and diplomatists, politicians and teetotalers, and all those silly sort of people, will read what I write, and so I think I will go on for a little while longer in my old style.

I know that elves and fairies exist, and if all the rest of the world believes differently, it does not cause me the slightest inconvenience; they can go their way, and I can go mine; and if they don't see any fairies, it is probably their own fault, as it is, I am sure, their own loss.

I have no more to tell you of Philip and Evelyn now, except that they both grew up and prospered, and that Evelyn often tells her little girls the story of her adventure with the fairies; and if anyone who reads this story would like to know more particulars, she is so good-natured that I am quite sure she will tell them all about it if they will only take the trouble to ask her when she does not happen to be particularly engaged.

CAT AND DOG

To "live like cat and dog" has long been proverbial as a description of a state of life in which quarrels and bickerings are of frequent occurrence. No one, however, as far as I am aware, has ever followed to its sources the proverb which is so familiar to us all; nor has anyone attempted to explain the reason of the antagonistic spirit which undoubtedly prevails between these domestic animals. Its prevalence is certain, its consequences not seldom unfortunate, and many a once happy household has been rendered miserable by its existence.

Animated by a sincere desire to acquire information, which might be at once interesting to myself, and instructive as well as beneficial to my fellow creatures, I have spared no pains to discover the truth upon this all-important subject; and if I can succeed in placing that truth clearly and dispassionately before the world, I shall feel – and I think I may cherish the feeling without exposing myself to the charge of presumption, – that I have not lived in vain.

Whatever rumours may, in a less enlightened age, have prevailed upon the subject, I believe that there is no doubt as to the origin of the unfortunate difference which first caused hostility to become deeply rooted in the breasts of the canine and feline races. Some have supposed it to have sprung from certain acts of favouritism displayed by the human race towards one or other of the two species of animals; others have come to the conclusion that in-bred and natural wickedness gave rise to the evil, whilst others again have started different, but equally unsound theories.

The true reason – the real beginning – the cause and foundation of the whole thing, is to be found in the words of the old song, so familiar to nursery people:

"Hey diddle, diddle; the cat and the fiddle;
The cow jumped over the moon:
The little dog laughed to see such sport,
And the dish ran away with the spoon."

The author of this ballad is unknown, but it has always been vastly popular with the race of cats, who see in it at once a tribute to the musical genius of their people, as being identified with the violin (vulgarly herein called fiddle) and a recognition of their supremacy and superiority over other animals, inasmuch as "the cat" is mentioned first, before either cow or dog, fiddle or moon, and is evidently pointed out as the chief personage celebrated by the rhyme.

On the other hand, dogs have never liked the verse. They directly and positively object to the precedence given to the cat; they dispute altogether the statement about the cow and the moon, as being improbable, if not palpably false; and they further say that, if the laughter of the little dog is intended to refer to this occurrence, it is a reflection upon the gravity and decorum of the dog race, whilst, if it is to be referred to the last line of the verse, it displays their representative as treating with unworthy levity that which, as far as the dish is concerned, was either an unlawful elopement or a pitiful theft.

At one time, when there was still a hope that the enmity of the two races might be appeased, and a better state of things brought about, a joint committee of dogs and cats sat upon the question, in order to submit a report to the great council of animals, which might form the basis of an amicable settlement. A lengthy and acrimonious discussion ensued. The cats claimed precedence, and advanced many arguments to prove their superiority over their opponents. They boldly purred out their declaration to the effect that nature, custom, and all the evidence at command was clearly in their favour. They cited the opinions of mankind, as given in many books, speeches, wise proverbs, and witty sayings. They called to mind how that, in the case of heavy rain, men always remarked that "it rained cats and dogs;" placing, as they averred, the superior animal of the two first, when it was necessary to mention both, and the inferior one last. Moreover, many other things in the history of mankind denoted the prevalence and undoubted predominance of the same opinion. One of their favourite names for their daughters was Kate – spelt commonly with a C when given in full, Catherine – and evidently a name adopted from that of cat, and affording another implied recognition of the general superiority of the feline race.

Then, said they, look at the way in which dogs are habitually spoken of with contempt, and their name used as a reproach. If one man call another a "dog," it is held to be an insult. Tell anyone that such and such a person has a "hang-dog" look about him, and it is known you intend to convey the idea of his being a rascal only fit to be strung up at once. If a man is tiresome in argument, his companions term him "dogmatic;" if he is of an obstinate temper and sullen disposition, he is frequently called dog-ged; whilst on crossing the channel a person who suffers from the malady of the sea is said to be "as sick as a dog;" and when mankind desire to express the failure in life, the ruin, the abject and miserable condition of one of their own race, there is no more common or proverbial expression than that he has "gone to the dogs."

All these, and many other instances, they quoted, as bearing upon the great question of the superiority of cats to dogs, and in fact, establishing the same beyond any reasonable doubt.

The dogs, having listened to these observations and arguments with an attention which was only equalled by their indignation, advanced their counter-arguments with great force, and evinced much learning and erudition. They took a preliminary objection to the evidence founded upon the manners and habits of human beings; avowing that even if they admitted every instance which had been adduced, they might appeal to the general practice of man, and the greater trust and reliance which he habitually placed in the dog, as utterly negativing the supposition that he had ever intended to imply the superiority of the feline tribe by any casual proverb or familiar saying. When was a cat employed to tend sheep? What keeper would trust a cat to do the office of a retriever, and to watch the young birds? To what cat was ever committed the custody of a house, or when was a kennel provided for a cat, to serve the purpose for which only a mastiff, or some similar specimen of the noble breed of dogs, was fit? All this forbad the supposition that men preferred cats before dogs, or esteemed them at all equally, either as useful or ornamental animals. But if they considered the arguments brought forward by the cats, one by one, with logical acuteness, they would not find a single argument which was not susceptible of an entirely different construction from that put upon it by the cat orators.

For instance, the expression that "it rained cats and dogs" clearly signified (if taken for more than a colloquial expression to convey the meaning that it rained hard) that the heavens from which the rain came desired to get rid of the inferior animals first, and that it was only when the cats had been got rid of that a possible superfluity of dogs was taken into consideration. The name Kate (which, by the way, was the abbreviation of Katharine, and had really nothing to do with the name Catherine) was not derived from anything to do with cats or kittens either; and it was much the same as if the dogs on their part were to claim affinity with the ancient Doges of Venice, or to pretend to unwonted holiness because most of the good books of the early church were written or translated by the monks into Dog Latin.

Again, as to one man insulting another by calling him a dog, that was not exactly the case. Dogs did not speak with human tongues, and therefore, when a man was called a "dumb dog," it was only implied that he was as dumb as a dog as far as the human tongue was concerned; dogs, moreover, did not pretend to universal goodness – there were good dogs and bad dogs, mad dogs and sad dogs. When men wished to bestow praise upon one of themselves, they constantly called him a "jolly dog;" and if they sometimes called one of their own kind a "cur," they alluded to an inferior species of dog, and in fact acknowledged the superiority of the canine race by the very fact that they selected it as the race with which alone they could fairly compare one of themselves.

The "hang-dog" argument also told directly against, instead of for, the cats. What did it mean? Why, that any man who was a villain and a rascal looked as if he would actually be ready to hang a dog; and such a crime would, in fact, constitute him both rascal and villain at once. What better proof could be afforded of the high estimation in which dogs were held by men?

The dogs further said that the cats had attributed a bad meaning to the word "dog-matic," but that it was also susceptible of a good interpretation, being derived from a Greek word, dogma, a settled opinion, and signifying one who, knowing the truth, and having confidence in the opinion at which he had duly arrived, had the courage of his convictions and stuck to them gallantly, which was certainly no reproach either to dog or man. The word "dogged" also might of course be taken to mean "sullen" or "sulky," but its primary signification was rather "pertinacious;" and it really meant that steadiness with which an honest dog pursued his course through life, yielding neither to bribes nor temptations, from whatever quarter they might chance to come.

With regard to the expression, "sick as a dog," they stated that it was scarcely more commonly used among men than the equivalent expression, "sick as a cat;" and they forbore, out of delicacy, to advance arguments upon so disagreeable a point. It bore but little upon the question, and they might as well say that men hated cats, because they were subjected to catalepsy; or that they evinced their dislike to the feline portion of creation by calling a misfortune a "cat-astrophe," a bad cough a "cat-arrh," and a disease in the eye, a "cataract." The last allusion of the cats, namely, that to a man spoken of as having "gone to the dogs," was the subject of a long and able argument on the part of the latter; who principally contended that the real meaning of the phrase, duly considered and wisely interpreted, was quite different from that which their adversaries supposed; inasmuch as no man, being ruined and miserable, would go to persons or beings who were held in contempt or were in disgrace. What was really meant was, that, when a man had really failed in everything, and, being penniless and wretched, found neither support, sympathy, nor consolation from those of his own species, he went where kindness, good faith, honesty, and charity were ever to be found, and sought among the true-hearted and friendly race of dogs that kindly welcome and reception which had been denied to him by his own people. It was a tribute, indeed, paid to dog-nature by mankind; and nothing of the sort had ever been said with regard to cats, who were well-known to be much more likely to scratch, than to comfort, the unfortunate.

The arguments so forcibly advanced by the dogs made very little impression on the cats who were upon the joint committee. There was a good deal of purring, setting up of backs, miawing, and I fear a little spitting; but they listened with tolerable attention, and then replied in the same style as before.

They mentioned a bad, useless fish – which was called the dog-fish, on account, they said, of its bad qualities; the dog-days – so called because hotter and more unbearable than any other days in the summer: they drew attention to the fact that loose, bad rhyme was said to be "doggerel," and that an inferior kind of flower was termed "dog-rose."

The dogs rejoined, with spirit, that men called a depository for dead bodies a "cat-acomb," a disagreeable insect a "cat-apillar," and that anyone who was made use of by another to obtain his own ends was contemptuously designated a "cat's-paw."

A debate carried on in this spirit could clearly lead to no satisfactory result, and the end of the matter was that the committee separated without having been able to agree to any report. The consequence naturally was, that each race continued to regard the other with suspicion and aversion; and that the relations between the two became, and seemed likely to remain, exceedingly unpleasant.

This version of the matter was given me by an animal whose veracity is above suspicion, being none other than old Jenny, the donkey. She was a most learned antiquarian, and had lived to a very advanced age before she had finally settled her opinion upon the merits of the question. But, being an ass of well-balanced mind, and entirely impartial between the two races, I believe that she fairly stated the arguments on both sides, and that her accuracy may be thoroughly relied on.

She went on to relate to me chronicles of the past, which I found most interesting; and it is with a view to the better understanding, by those who care to read them, of those chronicles, that I have ventured to give the above preliminary facts upon the authority of this venerable quadruped.

There was a time, she said, when dogs and cats were certainly upon better terms than at the present day. It was a happier time for both, she had no doubt; but still, being but a donkey, and very humble, she did not wish to put forward her opinion as by any means conclusive upon that or any other point. She could not recollect the time when the two races were positively upon friendly terms, but she believed such a time to have existed, and that within the memory of ravens, if not of asses.

There was a curious legend which had been told her by a tinker's donkey, who had been a great traveller, and knew more than most of his kind, though there was, as a rule, much more knowledge among donkeys than men supposed. This particular donkey, however, had seen and learned in his travels a great deal more than many men; who, when they travel abroad, only seem to try how far they can go, and when they arrive at a city, live with their own fellow-countrymen as much as they can, import their own method of life into foreign countries, instead of living as the people of the country do; and come home again with a very small addition to the knowledge with which they started.

The tinker's donkey, being of a very different cast of character, and much given to careful and attentive observation of all he saw in the various places he visited, always brought home a vast deal of useful information, with which he never refused to enliven his brother asses as they enjoyed a friendly bray over their thistles. And it was during one of these long journeys of his that he picked up the legend which he told old Jenny, and which she generously imparted to me.

At a remote period of history – no matter exactly when and no matter exactly where – perfect love and harmony existed between the two great races of dog and cat. There was neither jealousy nor rivalry between them; and, indeed, why should there have been such at any period of time?

Dogs have ever preferred bones, or portions of the carcasses of slaughtered animals, to any other food; whilst, to cats, the flesh of the mouse, disdained as a rule by the canine species, and the tender breast of the newly-fledged bird, form more attractive feasts.

True it is, that both races are fond of milk, but there is nothing in that single similarity of taste to excite ill-feeling and bitterness; and no dog ever clashed with the love of the cat for fish, nor have cats the same partiality for biscuits which some of the other race have frequently displayed.

Then, again, their pursuits in life are of a somewhat different character, those of the dog being more varied than those of the feline species. The sheep-dog guards with vigilance the flock entrusted to his care; the foxhound follows his prey with keen scent and unfailing ardour; the greyhound stretches his lanky form in eager pursuit of the unfortunate hare; the mastiff, seated in front of his kennel in the backyard, warns the inmates of the house of the approach of beggars or persons of doubtful character: the pug-dog, the terrier, the pomeranian, all have their separate employments and varied uses, in none of which does a cat seek to share, and with none of which does she ever wish to interfere.