e us, and crowded round us as
the teacher led the way to his dwelling, where we were entertained, in
the most sumptuous manner, on baked pig and all the varieties of fruits
and vegetables that the island produced. We were much annoyed, however,
by the rats: they seemed to run about the house like domestic animals.
As we sat at table, one of them peeped up at us over the edge of the
cloth, close to Peterkin's elbow, who floored it with a blow on the
snout from his knife, exclaiming as he did so:

"I say, Mister Teacher, why don't you set traps for these brutes?
Surely you are not fond of them!"

"No," replied the teacher with a smile. "We would be glad to get rid of
them if we could; but if we were to trap all the rats on the island, it
would occupy our whole time."

"Are they, then, so numerous?" inquired Jack.

"They swarm everywhere. The poor heathens on the north side eat them,
and think them very sweet. So did my people formerly; but they do not
eat so many now, because the missionary who was last here expressed
disgust at it. The poor people asked if it was wrong to eat rats; and
he told them that it was certainly not wrong, but that the people of
England would be much disgusted were they asked to eat rats."

We had not been an hour in the house of this kind-hearted man when we
were convinced of the truth of his statement as to their numbers; for
the rats ran about the floors in dozens, and during our meal two men
were stationed at the table to keep them off!

"What a pity you have no cats!" said Peterkin; and he aimed a blow at
another reckless intruder, and missed it.

"We would indeed be glad to have a few," rejoined the teacher, "but they
are difficult to be got. The hogs, we find, are very good rat-killers;
but they do not seem to be able to keep the numbers down. I have heard
that they are better than cats."

As the teacher said this, his good-natured black face was wrinkled with
a smile of merriment. Observing that I had noticed it, he said:

"I smiled just now when I remembered the fate of the first cat that was
taken to Rarotonga. This is one of the stations of the London
Missionary Society. It, like our own, is infested with rats, and a cat
was brought at last to the island. It was a large black one. On being
turned loose, instead of being content to stay among men, the cat took
to the mountains and lived in a wild state, sometimes paying visits
during the night to the houses of the