Though graced with polished manners and fine sense,
Yet wanting sensibility--the man
Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.
An inadvertent step may crush the snail,
That crawls at eve along the public path;
But he who has humanity, forewarned,
Will step aside, and let the reptile live."

[Illustration: THE POET COWPER.]

He was right--the kind-hearted poet was right. Well, as I said before,
he was not only careful about giving pain to animals, but he was very
fond of pets. First and last, he had a good many of these pets. But
there were none of them that he took so great delight in as his hares.
He had two of these pretty little creatures, and they seemed to be as
fond of him as he was of them. Cowper was subject to fits of great
despondency, or depression of spirits. With him hypochondria was a sort
of chronic disease. He would try to be cheerful. He knew the nature of
his melancholy, and often tried to remedy indirectly what could not be
reached directly. He resorted to innocent amusements in order to lead
the mind away from the contemplation of its own ills, real or imaginary.
This was well--it was philosophical--but it did not always succeed. The
disease was too deeply seated in his system. The care which he took of
his pets was no doubt one of his favorite amusements. These hares--there
were three of them at first, though one of them did not live long--had
each very different characters. The poet described them in detail in one
of his letters. Puss was the greatest favorite. He was more tractable,
tame and affectionate than the rest. Once the fellow was very sick, and
his master treated him with a great deal of kindness, gave him medicine,
and nursed him so well that he recovered. Cowper says that Puss showed
his gratitude by licking his hand for a long time, a ceremony he never
went through with but once in his life, before or afterward. Bess, who
died young, was the funny one. He had a great fund of humor and
drollery. Tiney, though very entertaining in his way, seems to have been
rather a grave and surly fellow. When he died--and he lived to a good
old age, some nine years, I think--Cowper buried him with honor, and
wrote an epitaph for him. I will copy two or three stanzas from this
epitaph, to show that Tiney got quite as good a character as he
deserved.

EPITAPH ON A HARE.

Here lies, whom hound did ne'er pursue,
Nor swifter greyhound follow,
Whose feet ne'er tainted morning dew,