Chapter 2

In one corner of the room where poor _Tony Pig_ was confined, hung a large cage, which was the prison of a pert young magpie. As soon as my son _Jacky_ who was the youngest of the company, and remarkably fond of birds, had saluted her by the well known appellation of _mag, poor mag_; she wagged her tail with surprising agility, and began to chatter in such an elevated tone, and with such a rapid pronunciation, that I was heartily glad when the kind Bramin commanded silence. "The body of this party coloured, loquacious bird, said he, is the involuntary residence of the late Miss Dorothy Chatterfast; who was a most notorious little gossip, and belonged to a family which is as numerous as that of the _Greedyguts_. To do her justice, she was a handsome little girl, and as brisk and notable as any young miss in her neighbourhood. But to her own misfortune, and the unspeakable vexation of most persons who came within the sphere of her observation, her little tongue was as active as her hands. She learned to talk very early, and so speedy was her improvement in the art of prattling, that, before she was three years old, she could lisp out a tale in very intelligible language. Her parents were so unwise as to encourage her in this mischievous kind of ingenuity, not only from the pleasure they took in hearing how fast she learned to speak, but because they considered it as an infallible token that she would, in time, prove an excellent wit and a notable manager. It is not, therefore, to be wondered at, that she took a great deal of notice of every thing which passed in the family, and particularly in the kitchen. If any of the servants accidentally broke a teacup, or saucer, a glass, &c. or received an unexpected visit from some of their acquaintance, or relations, when her parents happened to be absent from home; she never failed to inform them of it, the first opportunity, with many aggravating circumstances of her own invention; for which they generally complimented her, by way of reward, with the flattering titles of _a good child_, _a sweet little dear_, and _a careful little girl_. By this officious impertinence she frequently got the servants reprimanded, and sometimes dismissed; so that by degrees they all began to fear and hate her. She was equally attentive to every trifle which happened at the school, where she was daily sent to learn the art of reading, and the use of her needle; for the moment she came home, and before she had well entered the parlour door, and made her courtesy, her little tongue began to rattle like a mill clack."--"Mamma, said she, Tommy Careless was flogged for tearing his book, Jackey Fidget because he was a naughty boy and would not sit still, Polly Giddybrains, for losing her needle and thread paper, and, Lord bless me! my ma'am was so cross, that she was going to put the nasty fool's cap on _my_ head, only for miscalling the first word in my lesson."--"In short she was such a notorious telltale, that she was soon dignified by her school fellows with the honourable appellation of _Dolly Cagmag_. As she advanced in years, the habit grew upon her; and when she was old enough to be introduced into company, and go a visiting, she carried on the same mischievous and despicable trade abroad, in which she had met with such encouragement at home. Whatever she saw or heard in one place, she would be sure to report it in another; so that all the masters and misses who had the mortification to fall into her company, considered themselves as under the malicious inspection of a meddlesome spy; which they had the more reason to do, because she seldom failed to embellish her informations with the recital of several unfavourable circumstances of her own invention." "Indeed, Mr. Wiseman, said Betsey, my youngest daughter, what you have told us is exactly true; for I have been in company with Miss Chatterfast several times, and I remember once in particular that when Master _Sprightly_, who was a merry young spark, had stolen a kiss from Miss _Patty Sweetlips_, though the poor young lady blushed as red as scarlet, and seemed to be greatly displeased at the freedom which had been taken with her, Miss Chatterfast was so mischievous as to represent her to all her acquaintance as a bold little hussey, who loved to be kissed by the young gentlemen. When poor innocent Patty was informed of the character which had been so unjustly fixed upon her, she was ashamed to stir out of doors, and laid it so much to heart I thought she would have cried her eyes out." "This was very unkind indeed, replied the good Bramin; and yet, I sincerely believe that all the mischief her tongue was guilty of, was more owing to her vanity and that talkative humour in which she had always been encouraged from her infancy, than to any real malice in her heart. She had been long accustomed to speak without thinking, and naturally imagined that her impertinent loquacity would be as much admired and applauded by other people as by her thoughtless parents. I have the satisfaction, however, to observe that you are perfectly sensible of her mistake, though she had not the good fortune to be so herself. If she had lived much longer, it is very probable that the many slights and affronts she must necessarily have met with, would have opened her eyes: For those who by their impertinent censures set the whole world at defiance, may reasonably expect to find an enemy in every house they enter. But her meddlesome, inquisitive disposition proved to be the accidental means of shortening her days, before she had experience enough to correct it: for, one evening, Mr. _Kindly_, a wealthy merchant, indulged all the young masters and misses in the neighbourhood with a splendid ball at his own house: Miss _Chatterfast_, though she had at that time a severe cold upon her, was so desirous of embracing such a favourable opportunity of making her remarks upon the behaviour and different dresses of the company, and thereby furnishing herself with an ample stock for conversation, that she could not be prevailed upon by her too indulgent parents to spend the evening at home. The consequence was such as might naturally have been expected. By first over heating herself at the ball, and afterwards exposing herself to the night air in her return home, her cold, (which was bad enough before) suddenly increased into a violent fever which hurried her to the grave in the short space of five or six days. Though her untimely death excited the transient pity of most of her acquaintance, very few of them, I believe, were really sorry to part with her. But notwithstanding that violent propensity to exercise her tongue, which she too frequently indulged to the vexation of her neighbours, she had a large fund of good nature at the bottom; so that I am in hopes that she will soon be restored to the rank of human beings, and have an opportunity of employing her speaking faculties with greater discretion and in a more agreeable manner than she did before. Her former loquacity (as I have already observed) was almost entirely owing to that vanity and want of thought, in which she had been too much encouraged by the simple fondness of her parents; but the low station in which she now appears, will probably teach her to be more humble and considerate, and of consequence to check that talkative humour which in her past lifetime formed the most remarkable part of her character." Poor mag (who, I suppose, understood every word the Bramin said) wagged her tail a little, as we left the room, but did not think proper to utter a single chatter.

CHAP. IV.

_The Transmigration of Master_ STEPHEN CHURL _into the Body of a little Cur._

In the next apartment we entered, we saw a little snarling cur, who immediately saluted us with a surly grin, and barked and yelped as if he would have torn the house down. He was indeed very securely chained to a small kennel; but my daughter Betsey happening to venture too near him, he snapped at her and tore her apron. "Take care, miss, said Mr. Wiseman, and keep out of his reach; for though he is but a cur, he is very mischievous. His body is the contemptible residence of the soul of the late Master _Churl_. Poor miserable youth! he was a wrangler from his infancy; and his litigious temper gave him as just a title to the name of _Churl_ as his birth. Even when he was a child in arms, he was such a peevish and noisy little brat, that his mamma could not find a woman who would undertake the trouble of nursing him; and as soon as he was able to speak and run alone, he began to wrangle with his brothers and sisters, upon the most trifling occasions, and seldom forgot to support his argument by exerting his little hands and heels with the most malicious activity; so that to mortify his pride, and give a check to his ill nature, they bestowed upon him the disgraceful title of young _Kick and Cuff_. Poor Stephen, however bid defiance to all their ridicule, and was so far from being reclaimed by it, that his turbulence increased in proportion to his strength and stature. He was afterwards as quarrelsome at school as he had been at home; and in every party at taw, or trap ball, or any other innocent diversion in which he happened to be engaged, he was always remarkable for disturbing the game by his frivolous disputes: Nay, when he was only a looker on, he would betray his wrangling impertinent temper, by calling out, such a one does not play fairly; such a one counts too many; and such a one goes in before his turn. The usual reward he received for his trouble was, a handsome drubbing, sometimes from his master, but more frequently from his school fellows. He was equally notorious for his great forwardness to give a challenge, upon the slightest provocation, and very often from mere wantonness; and sometimes he would very unfairly begin an engagement without giving any previous notice, that he might make sure of the first blow. But his strength and skill being unequal to his pretensions, the many mortifying defeats he received, soon taught him the despicable cunning of assaulting none but those, who, he believed, were either too weak to contend with him, or too cowardly to stand in their own defence. The speedy consequence of such a dirty conduct was, that the bigger boys despised and laughed at him, and those who were less than himself, carefully shunned his company; so that at last poor wrangling Stephen, for want of play-fellows, had no other diversion left for him, but to take a solitary ramble through the fields. His parents being informed of the disagreeable situation into which he had brought himself, and what a shy reception he met with from all the boys in the neighbourhood, thought it adviseable, after giving him a strict caution to behave in a more peaceable manner for the future, to remove him to a genteel boarding school, at a distance from home. If he had thought proper to follow their advice, and make a diligent use of the excellent instructions he received from his new teachers, he might afterwards have cut a shining figure in the world; but, as what is bred in the bone, seldom gets out of the flesh, so it fared with _Stephen Churl_. Though he was a little reserved at first, as being entirely among strangers, a short acquaintance with them made him very familiar--the affability and good nature with which they listened to every thing he said, soon encouraged him to be pert; and from pertness he proceeded to open rudeness and ill manners--until at last happening to be very mildly reprimanded by one of the young gentlemen, whose tenderness he misconstrued into cowardice, he commenced hostilities, as usual, by giving him an unexpected blow on the face. But his antagonist being possessed of as much spirit as politeness, returned the compliment in an instant; and conducted the engagement on his side with such vigour and activity, that our hero soon retired from the field of battle heartily drubbed, to make his complaint to the master, who, after a minute inquiry into all the circumstances of the fray, thought proper to reward him for the unnecessary trouble he had given himself, with the severest flogging he had ever received in his life time. Thus mortified and disgraced, the unfortunate _Stephen_ resolved upon an elopement; but, being ashamed to return to his parents, he rambled through the fields and woods, and scrambled over hedges and ditches, until at length having torn his clothes to rags, and being almost ready to perish with hunger, he eagerly listed himself into a gang of gypsies, and supped very heartily upon the remains of a roasted cat. The intolerable hardships he suffered, and the coarse fare he was obliged to put up with in this new situation, together with the frequent bangs and thumps which he received from the younger part of his strolling comrades, who were as quarrelsome and mischievous as himself, but abundantly more robust, soon broke his heart; so that he died in a barn, and was buried, like a beggar, at the expense of a little country parish." While the Bramin was concluding the history of Master _Churl_, my son _Jackey_, whose temper was rather too fiery, looked very sheepish; which his sister _Betsey_ observing, and easily guessing the cause of it, she desired him with a good natured smile, when we were leaving the room, to think on poor _Stephen_, and be sure to take warning.

CHAP. V.

_The comical and mortifying Transmigration of little Monsieur_ FRIBBLE _into the Body of a Monkey._

After we had taken our leave of Master _Churl_, we were conducted into the apartment of Mr. _Pug_, a chattering young monkey, who, as soon as he saw us whipt his little hat under his arm in a crack, and seating himself upon his backside, welcomed each of us into the room by several ceremonious nods, which were intended to supply the place of a bow, and were accompanied by such a noisy affected grin, that it was impossible for us to forbear laughing--"This contemptible animal, said Mr. _Wiseman_, is inhabited by the little soul of the late Master _Billy Fribble_, a young gentleman of French extraction, whose friends came and settled in the country about fifty years ago. His play fellows dignified him with the humorous title of _the little Monsieur_, not so much on account of his diminutive stature, as for that trifling and finical behaviour which distinguishes the least respectable, though, by many thoughtless persons, the most admired part of the French nation. As neither his bodily nor mental faculties were very vigorous, his childhood was remarkable only for a certain effeminate vivacity, which continually displayed itself in such a noisy and insignificant prattling, as was very tiresome and disagreeable to every body in the house. When he grew older, he added to his former loquacity the most passionate fondness for fine clothes; so that in the twelfth year of his age, he became as complete a top as ever eyes beheld. He wore upon his head a macaroni hat about the size of a small tea saucer; his coat, which scarcely had any skirts to it, was of the most glaring colour he could fix upon; and his hair, which was plaistered over with powder and pomatum, was tied behind in a large club, which hung swagging upon his shoulders like a soldier's knapsack. Thus elegantly dressed, he strutted along the streets with a large stick in his hand about a foot taller than himself, and a small cutteau de chasse by his side, which he could handle with as much dexterity as his pen; an instrument in the use of which he had made such a contemptible proficiency, that it required as much acuteness to discover the meaning of his aukward scrawl, as to explain the hieroglyphick characters of the ancient Egyptians. What still increased the obscurity of every thing which Monsieur _Fribble_ undertook the trouble of penning, was that, excepting when he wrote his own name, he had a method of spelling which was peculiar to himself. He was equally famous for his skill in the useful science of numbers; for though, during the space of seven or eight years, he devoted to it a considerable part of that lingering time which he was forced to spare from his private diversions in school hours, the sum total of his improvement was, that he was scarcely capable of casting up the contents of a shoemaker's little bill. His highest ambition was, in the first place, to furnish himself with a large collection of complimentary phrases, which he had seldom discretion enough to apply with any tolerable propriety; and, in the next, to complete himself in the polite art of dancing, in which he so far succeeded as to be able to skip about with the most regular agility, though he never had a sufficient share of good sense to be able to dance with gracefulness. Thus accomplished, he excited the admiration of every silly coquette, and the envy of every fluttering coxcomb; but by all young gentlemen and ladies of understanding he was heartily despised as a mere civilized monkey. He performed every thing by imitation; and he imitated nothing (unless he was forcibly compelled to it) by which a rational being may be distinguished from a brute animal. But the species of imitation in which he most delighted, was that which, in the vulgar style, is called _mocking_; for he was not possessed of a sufficient stock of ingenuity to be (what he very frequently attempted to be) a clever mimick. If any of his schoolmates happened to be afflicted with an impediment in their speech, an accidental lameness, or the like; he had the mean barbarity to endeavour to aggravate the misfortune by a coarse imitation, which generally turned the whole ridicule upon himself. He once had the impudence to practise his mockery upon a worthy gentlemen in the neighbourhood, who was so unfortunate as to be unable to speak without stuttering. The gentleman happening to pass by Mr. _Fribble's_ door, at which our little monsieur was then standing with a magpie in his hand." "_Bi-bi-bill_, said the good man (after inquiring very civilly how he did) has that pretty ma-ma-mag learned to ta-ta-talk?" "Ye-ye-yes, replied the saucy fop, be-be-better than you do, or else I would wring his head off." "This rude and impertinent answer, which at first excited the laughter of some of the by-standers, soon gave them a very mean opinion of him, and he was afterwards despised by every sensible person, as a mischievous, unthinking coxcomb. What aggravated his punishment was, that he had so frequently indulged himself in the ungenerous and silly practice of mocking the imperfect pronunciation of others, that at last he himself contracted such a habit of stuttering as he could never leave off. This gave such a poor recommendation to the nonsensical things he was continually saying, that he became the object of ten times the ridicule which he had endeavoured to inflict upon those who had a _natural_ impediment. What was pitied in them as a misfortune, was despised in him as an ill-acquired and consequently a vicious imperfection; and therefore every one was willing to increase the mortifying smart of it, and keep alive the conscious shame he felt of wearing a fool's cap which was entirely of his own making. This vexatious, and in some degree, vindictive ridicule to which he was daily exposed, and which, in time, he might have softened and disarmed by an humble and penitent deportment, gave such an insupportable wound to his foolish pride, that he soon absconded from company, and died of a broken heart. That his soul might afterwards occupy such a station as would be most suitable to his character, it was sentenced to inhabit the body of that finical, grinning, and mischievous little mimick with four legs, which you now behold before you." As soon as the Bramin had finished his story, poor _pug_ (who seemed to retain all the little pride of Monsieur _Fribble_) grinned, chattered, and skipped about with a ridiculous resentment which was mingled with evident marks of fear; until at last, having agitated himself into a perfect passion, he made a hasty spring at his keeper, which, to his own abashment, and the laughter of my young companions, was as suddenly checked by a small chain that secured him to the floor.

CHAP. VI.

_The dismal Transmigration of Master_ TOMMY FILCH _into the Body of a Wolf._