266 
BRAMBLES AND BAY LEAVES. 
standing; and I never kept an animal yet, not even a 
slow worm, but in course of time something of a mutual 
understanding was established, and thenceforward our 
communion bore more or less resemblance to a conver¬ 
sation. To talk with parrots and dogs is neither 
impossible nor difficult, but you must first learn to talk 
to them; after which the other is a work of time. The 
curious narratives that are related, as of the man who 
took a thorn from a lion’s foot, and another who was 
on such terms with an oyster that it followed him about 
like a dog, have one common basis, the establishment of 
a conversational intimacy, if not in sounds, then by the 
language of the eyes. I am satisfied that Fido knows 
all my thoughts, and I am also satisfied that I know most 
of his; that is, so far as the thoughts of either party 
relate to things in which we are mutually interested. 
Now that our caresses are over, and the birds are getting 
drowsy again, Fido sees that I want half an hour’s 
quiet, and he prepares himself to take a nap. 
I like sitting here with these pretty creatures for 
an hour or two at night. The greetings I get on 
entering the room compensate for all the vexations and 
anxieties of the day; and I sit sometimes for hours, 
asking them mysterious questions about the origin of 
things, and the properties of life. I cannot say that 
their answers are such as can be written down literally as 
delivered, but they satisfy me, and if there is any one 
less perspicuous than the rest, Fido is interpreter, and 
explains the thing aright. 
A friend who drops in at this moment with a message 
of good news asks me why I sit here, with a large fire 
