IN THE PIT.

Thames Star, Volume III, Issue 1678, 20 May 1874, Page 2

IN THE PIT.

. Mr. Jerry Fisher appeared with a l/uge square iron wire cage under his arm, and the cage was full of rats—"lively " ones, too, as the enterprising landlord had promised, judging from the manner in which they swarmed over each other, and squeaked and thrust their restless noses through the bars. The sight of the rats was the signal for every terrier present to be afflicted with temporary raving madness, and each one wiiohedin his master's arms, and set up sucu a deafening din as must have made the heart of the stoutest rat in the cage quail with fear. The bulldogs did not bark. They may have growled a little, but that was merely in contempt for those who had brought them out with the ridiculous supposition that they could take any interest in the frivolous puppy-play of rat-catching. The Pipemaker called "Time," and Mr. Fisher, advancing to the pit, opened the little door of the cage, and with an amount of coolness that made orie's heart beat, plunged his hands among the now panic-stricken mass of rats, and plucked them out by the "scruff of their necks, or by their tails, and threw them into the pit, where the man with the piece of chalk kept count until 40 were thrown in. I expected to see the frightened creatures rush hither and thither in every direction as soon as they got their liberty. Indeed, there appeared to me no reason why they shouldn't one and all escape by making a bold leap over the pit_ side—it was only 3ft. high. But their boldness had departed. They made a rush to one corner, and there they swarmed, mounting over each'other, and hiding their terror-stricken , eyes under each other's bodies, and still piling up the heap until, in the form of a sugarloaf, it reached 2ft high at least. The Pipemaker's dog did not bark now. "With every muscle of his intelligent little face quivering, and his ears sharp-pricked forward, Mustard eyed these proceedings, and seemed to be jealously counting the number of his « ■• i-ii-.s as they were thrown in, lest l.j si,..a Id be cheated of one of them. Then watches were produced, and the Pipemaker held his dog by the shoulders. " Say when," said he. " Now," sharply exclamed Jerry Fisher, and then, in a flash, Mustard was among the rats. lam bound to say that, apart from what they may have endured through fright, their' sufferings were but brief. Mustard was fairly up to his work. Had he been a young and giddy ratter, his savage joy would have been such that he would probably have gone fumbling the furry heap in the, corner all over the place, and much time would have been lost in the scrimmage of catching them again. Mustard drew on the rat bank with the. caution of one who has doubts of the stability of his account there. He didn't disturb the base of the heap. He plucked down the topmost ones, made one snap at their unlucky loins, set his fore feet down hard, gave them a vigorous shake, and dropped them without further concern. The Pipemaker was in ecstacies, as was the Gent well known in sporting circles, who rattled his stick inside his hat, and yelled for Mustard's encouragement. But matters could not go on like this.. The rats seemed all at once to discover that their tactics were bad, and with loud squeals dispersed all over the pit. Mustard seemed for a moment to clap a paw reflectingly t© his whisker, and instantly to make up his mind that a good move would be to drive them up in a corner again; but the Pipemaker—who I certainly think was in error—and Mustard were at issue as regards this stroke of strategy. " Yah, hi! yah ! collar 'em, lad; collar 'em ? " yelled the Pipemaker, and Mustard promptly gave way, and made a running fight of it, dashing here and there with amazing swiftness, his every frest dart costing a rat his life-"-Daily Telegraph.