THE GREAT REBELLION.

"If you please, captain,” said a young sailor, as he stepped on board the merchant-vessel of which he was the secondmate, we have a queer kind of passenger in the boat. How he got there we do not know; but he hid himself between the packages, and we never saw him till we were a good way from the shore. When we were going to heave him overboard, before he was too far to swim back to land, he bent so humbly to us, that we had not the heart to turn him out; so we have brought him to you, sir." "Who is he?" asked the captain. The mate stepped to the side of the vessel and cried, "Haul up!" The captain shouted with laughter when he saw a fox. "Poor beast," he said, "it is very odd he should be in the port of Marseilles; but he looks half-starved, and as if he had been hunted almost to death; give him some food, and tie him up, so that he may not steal any of the fowls; as we sail directly, and yours is the last boat to come on board, there is no time to take him back."

The fox had a cord passed round his neck, a hook was fastened to an empty cask turned on its side and filled with straw, and the cord securely tied to the hook. In two or three days he was very much improved in appearance, and was a beautiful animal: he was thin, but well made; his

fur was long, and his tail thick and handsome; his head was thrown back with rather a proud and fierce, yet noble air; his eyes were extremely bright, and he had a keen, clever look, which was very remarkable. When any one approached, he seemed to bend to them, and his movements were very graceful. His countenance was frequently sad, but at night he walked restlessly up and down to the length of his cord, and gnashed his teeth in the fiercest

manner.

When the captain reached London he took Reynard to his house, a little way out of town, and tied him up in a yard. The next morning his wife asked him what he meant to do with him.

"I do not know," answered the husband.

"He cannot stay here," said the lady; "he will bite the children. Surely you had better send him into the country."

"No," observed the captain; "the poor creature took refuge in my boat, he has behaved very well upon the voyage; if I send him into the country, he will be hunted and killed, and that is not fair."

"Send him to the Zoological Gardens," exclaimed the eldest son, a lad of fourteen; "George and I can take him there this afternoon, if you like, papa."

"A very good plan," said both father and mother. And to the Zoological Gardens went Reynard the same day.

At first the keepers refused to admit the fox; but one remarking that he was very handsome, with a peculiar look about him, said, "There is an empty den close to that of

the badger, and we can put him in there till the gentlemen of the council determine whether he shall or shall not stay with us." The young lads left their charge; and in a few days their papa received the thanks of the Zoological Society for the present of a very handsome fox.

For a week or two Reynard was tolerably quiet in his new abode; but he then became restless, and continually walked up and down his small den, talking to himself.

"Confined to this small space," said he; "no one to speak to, no amusement; thoughts of the past rushing upon me, thoughts of the future, thoughts of what I could do if I were at liberty. What a terrible life, to be thus a prisoner! Why did I trust the English, and suppose, when I reached their country, they would set me at liberty to run over their woods and fields ?"

"You are restless, neighbour," said a voice close to him, which made him start; "can I help you?"

"And who are you that thus notices a poor prisoner, driven from his own country to seek kindness from strangers?" asked Reynard.

"I am the badger who lives in the den next to yours,' was the reply. "I also am shut up by those who pretend to be kind to me; but I take my pleasure, and am free at night. It is so wet just now, that I have chosen to stay at home; and that is why I hear you for the first time."

"How can you get your liberty?" inquired Reynard. "We badgers," answered his neighbour, "can burrow any where underground, and even remove stones which many other animals of our size cannot lift; so that it was very easy for me to get out of this den. I go about the

garden, visit my acquaintances, talk to them, and come back before morning, when I put the stone which I have taken up into its place, and none of the keepers know of my wanderings."

"Would it not be possible for me to have such a happiness?" asked the fox; "I can also burrow."

"Certainly," said the badger," and I will help you; it will be very nice for us to go out together; and I will take you to see my friends. At first I was very much afraid of the dogs, but now I have become so well acquainted with them, that they let me pass without taking any further notice than just to say, 'Good evening to you.' Of course they will let you pass as my companion."

The next night the two friends set to work, made a passage through the fox's den, and both found themselves loose in the garden. Reynard was presented to all Badger's acquaintances, and they passed many a pleasant halfhour, talking first with one and then with another. As Reynard became intimate, however, he began to talk a great deal about himself, and what he thought of a great many things, especially of the other beasts in the garden. He insisted on it that it was a shame for beasts, who were born to be free, to be shut up in cages; that they were clever enough to know what was right, and therefore to be ordered by others was quite against their nature; and to be under the rule of men, who were not as strong or as powerful as they were in many ways, was not to be submitted to. He therefore advised them not to take it as calmly as they did, for they were quite able to judge for themselves. To this some replied, that the men were very

kind to them, that they lived in very good houses, and had plenty to eat; and that was as much as poor beasts like them ought to expect. Reynard looked quite scornfully at them, and muttering "Poor wretches," turned his back upon them. Others felt as if what he said were true, but it was of no use trying to alter things; while a third set were of opinion, that as they had been placed there without any fault of their own, they must submit. These made Reynard still more impatient than all the others, and he called them ignorant creatures, only fit for eating and drinking, who did not deserve any thing better. Before long, however, he made some impression; and his frequent talking caused a feeling of uneasiness, even in those who had been the most quiet. They began to fancy that they really were ill treated; that, as Reynard said, their keepers were tyrants; that there was no reason why some should live in large dens and some in small; that they were all brothers, and ought to be treated alike.

It is of no use repeating all that was said, but only observe, that there was much commotion throughout the garden. The monkeys Reynard never could get at, because they were carefully shut up by night, for fear they should catch cold; and he thought this was of no consequence, as they were so like men they would be sure to side with them. The hedgehogs curled themselves up into a ball, stuck out their spines, and pretended not to mind him, "as long as they had beetles to eat, they did not care." The bears were quite willing to join in any thing, and said, if they could get outside, they should be sure to find plenty of friends and cakes, people were so fond of them. The