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anything approaching to fear, I might be expected to be half-dead with
fright.

He drooped his head for a moment, and uttered one word-- "_rat-pies!_"

I started as though I had seen a tabby pounce down from the rigging!

"'Tis impossible!" I faintly exclaimed; "human beings never, never eat
rats!"

"Oh! I beg your pardon!" replied Whiskerandos, regaining his usual brisk
manner; "don't you remember old Furry telling us that his reason for
quitting China was, that he was afraid of being dished up for the
dinner of some mighty mandarin, whose hair hung in a long tail behind
him? Amongst the lowest classes in France, and the gypsies in England,
we poor rats are known as an article of food; and I have heard that in
the islands of the South Seas we were held in so much esteem, that
'sweet as a rat' passed as a proverb."

"I don't like such compliments!" exclaimed I, beginning to tremble all
over.

"Come, Ratto, you must pluck up a little courage, and show yourself
worthy of the race of Mus! There is never any use in meeting misfortune
half way. To be caught, killed, and put into a pie, is, I grant it,
a serious evil; to be always afraid of being so is another. The first we
may or we may not escape; but the second-- which is perhaps the worse of
the two-- lies in some degree within the power of our own will. We need
not make ourselves wretched before the time, about some event which
never may happen."

Good philosophy this, I believe, but not a little difficult to act upon.
When I have seen the younger members of that race which proudly styles
itself "lords of creation," trembling, shrinking, nay-- I shame to say
it-- even _crying_, at fear of some possible evil, a little
disappointment perhaps, or a little pain, I have thought of Whiskerandos
and the pies, and fancied that reasoning mortals might learn something
even from a rat.

I was so terribly afraid of being caught by the sailors, that I confined
myself more than usual to the cabin, keeping close to the hole that I
had made, that I might always be ready for a start should the blue eyes
ever happen to rest upon me; but those books, those famous books,
happily gave them other occupation.

"Papa," said Neddy to his father one day, "I should rather have gone to
some other place than St. Petersburg, I feel such a dislike to the
Russians."

"Why should you dislike them," said the captain.

"Oh! because they were our enemies so long, and killed so many of our