CLASS I. MAMMALIA: OKDER 1. RODENTIA. 
and they use them as levers to sprmg by when about to jump. Opening- the cage to examine 
them, one escaped, running under my hand. It took myseK, three other persons, and two dogs, 
three-quarters of an hour hunting in my room to catch him again — so active was the httle brute. 
We were obliged finally to kill him to get him at all; one of my friends present very appropri- 
ately called him 'black lightning.' 
"The other species of rat, now so universally knoAvn and generally esteemed a pest by all, is 
commonly supposed to have come from Norway, and is therefore called the Norway rat. This is 
a strange mistake, for it would imply that this animal was aboriginal in that country; whereas, 
in fact, at the time when the name was first applied to it, it Avas not even known to exist there. 
How this mistake arose I know not, except from the fact that there exists in Norway a little ani- 
mal, not unlike a rat, called a lemming, described in a treatise entirely devoted to it by the cele- 
brated Danish historian and antiquary, Wormius, about the seventeenth century. This may be 
the origin of the name; but, however, it made its appearance in Paris about the Ixiiddle of the 
eighteenth century, and in England not many years earlier. It is now agreed by most natural- 
ists that it is a native of India and Persia ; that it spread onward into European Eussia, and was 
thence transferred by merchant-ships to England and elsewhere. 
"The rat is a most strict observer of the law 'Be fruitful and multiply;' for Madame la Ratte 
is generally in an interesting condition thrice a year, and on these occasions she does not look 
forward to nursing one helpless little individual, but thirteen or fifteen small unfortunates. I have 
had practical demonstration of the aptness of this family for propagating its species. In cleaning 
out the cage containing a little happy family of five rats, of variegated colors — all of which were 
perfectly tame, and lived in peace and harmony — I felt something among the hay, warm and soft ; 
on taking it carefully out, it proved to be a little tiny rat, hairless and eyeless, but nevertheless 
endowed, like a biped baby, with the full and audible use of its infant lungs. On hearing its 
cries, the mother — a beautiful snow-white rat, upon whose head maternal cares Avere pressing at 
the early age of eight Aveeks — rushed forward, and seizing her screaming infant between her teeth, 
hastily ran off with it. Upon further examination, ten other young innocents Avere found care- 
fully packed up in the corner of a cigar-box, which had been placed in the cage for the use of the 
colony in general, but Avhich had been kindly vacated by the other considerate rats in favor of 
the lady Avho Avas literally in the straAV. The owner is happy to announce that the mother and 
her little family are all doing well. Such, indeed, is the amazing fecundity of this animal, that 
they Avould soon overrun the whole country, and render all our attempts to destroy them fruit- 
less, had they no enemies to lessen their numbers. But this baneful increase is happily counter- 
acted, not only by numerous foes among other animals, but by their destroying and eating each 
other. The same insatiable appetite that impels them to indiscriminate carnage, also incites the 
strongest to devour the Aveakest, even of their OAvn kind ; and a large male rat is as much dreaded 
by its OAvn species as the most formidable enemy. 
"During summer the rat resides chiefly in holes on the banks of rivers, ponds and ditches ; but 
on the approach of Avinter they visit the farm-houses, and enter the corn-ricks and barns, where 
they devour much of the corn, and damage more than they consume. They are very fond of pig- 
sties, running about among the pigs, picking up the leavings of the oatmeal out of the troughs, 
and even nestling doAvn near to the Avarm body of the fat uuAvieldy porkers, whose obese sides 
make not bad pillows for his impudence — the rat. 
" On one occasion, when a boy, I recollect secretly borrowing an old-fashioned flint-gun from 
the bird-keeper of the farm to which I had been invited. I ensconced myself behind the door of 
the pig-sty, determined to make a victim of one of the many rats that were accustomed to- disport 
themselves among the straAv that formed the bed of the farmer's pet bacon-pigs. In a fcAV min- 
utes out came an old patriarchal-looking rat, who, having taken a careful survey, quietly began 
to feed. After a long aim, bang went the gun — I fell backward, knocked doAvn by the recoil of 
the rusty old piece of artillery. I did not remain prone long, for I was soon roused by the most 
unearthly squeaks, and a dreadful noise as of an infuriated animal madly rushing round and round 
the sty. Ye gods! what had I done? I had not surely, like the tailor in the old song of the 
'Carrion Crow,' 
