The writer, in the course of his many rat-hunting expeditions, has had occasion to observe the rats in the lower cellars of many large New York breweries, where beer was about all they could get to live on. The sage old rodents, I observed, that had become accustomed to this diet--and had noted scientifically its queer effects in large doses on the rat system--indulged in a moderate way, and became aged, good-natured, and fat, like some jovial, bald-headed old merchant of the human type. The young rats, however, that had been recruited from the neighboring houses, would proceed immediately to paint a limited part of the town quite crimson with much hilariousness and quantities of beer, after which they could be killed or caught without much bother, lying around through the passage-ways in a beastly intoxicated state. Here they lay, squealing faintly, and without concern, on their backs. We may find in this, if we care to look for it, a really valuable temperance lesson; for, when the rodents imbibed with moderation, they were of a strong and healthy race, and greatly looked up to in the gnawing community; but, when they quaffed too heavily, they became poets, and cared not for the affairs of this small earth, whereupon they were ignobly killed with a club by some base son of man. In slaughter-houses, they become so unconscious after having gorged themselves with a hearty dinner of hot blood and other warm offal, that hundreds of them could be picked up and massacred with but very faint resistance on the otherwise cautious rat's part. In old markets, rats yet do valuable service as sanitary inspectors, by demolishing the amount of refuse and garbage; but in other channels they are the very demons of destruction. They are especially fond of cheese; and in the cheese-dealers' stalls they go at their work of procuring this in a highly artistic way. They drill holes through the flooring beneath the largest cheeses, and then work their way up and eat into them, consuming pounds upon pounds in a single night. The men sometimes find a large cheese with the interior scooped entirely out, leaving the rind, in hollow mockery, simply an empty, worthless shell. In the butchers' shops, the rats are connoisseurs in the quality of meat, always seeking out the primest portions of the beef in preference to any others. Around barn-yards they destroy the grain, oats, and every species of fowl, from the smallest to the largest specimen. In going at their work of destruction, they spring upon the neck of the victims, and pierce and bite it through with their teeth. They then suck the blood first, or else eat into the flesh as they would into a cheese, often contenting themselves with the blood and leaving the carcass. In stables the harness and the axle grease, even, suffice to make a square meal for them in default of better fodder; they also make the horses frantic by fiendishly gnawing at their hoofs. IX.--RATS AS WINE DRINKERS.