12 HOUSE, GARDEN, AND FIELD 



her suspicion is too great for that. But being, it is prob- 

 able, brought in as a kitten, and finding the house con- 

 venient both for lodging and for the capture of small 

 prey, she has gone on as a kind of lodger with us. The 

 cat cares more about the house than about her master 

 and mistress ; she has never lost the power to procure 

 her own food ; she has still many of the instincts of a 

 wild animal. Individual cats no doubt exhibit strong 

 attachments to persons, but that proves little ; the cubs 

 of wild beasts, when brought up in the house and kindly 

 treated, become attached to their keepers. Our domestic 

 cats are little altered from the cats which lived a free life, 

 lurking in trees in order to pounce upon birds. Variety 

 in the colour and length of the fur is the most conspicuous 

 mark of domestication which they exhibit. Little pains 

 have however been bestowed upon the methodical selec- 

 tion of cats and the establishment of pure breeds. 



Birds in cages and fishes in bowls are captives stupefied 

 by loss of liberty. The canary has been regularly kept in 

 cages for four centuries, and has acquired by artificial 

 selection a pure yellow colour. Wild canaries in their 

 native islands have a song of their own, but tame ones 

 are regularly taught to sing, being set beside a nightingale 

 or a woodlark until they have picked up the song by 

 imitation. The gold-fishes kept in Europe are rather 

 uninteresting pets, but in China pains have been taken 

 to establish varieties, many of which are incredibly odd, 

 though not beautiful. 



The rat and the mouse are robbers, which prey upon 

 the householder against his will. Some further account 

 of them is given in a separate place (see p. 78). 



One mollusk may be said to be a domestic species. In 

 a good many houses a slimy track is frequently seen on 

 the kitchen-sink, and any one who sits up to watch, finds 

 half an hour after the lights have been put out a great 

 orange cellar-slug, which comes forth from its hiding-place 

 to feed on potato-parings and cabbage-leaves. 



