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Volume 1903a3
Georges Dodds'
The Ape-Man: his Kith and Kin
A collection of texts which prepared the advent of Tarzan of the Apes by Edgar Rice Burroughs
Selected 19thCentury Simian Fiction (1830-1914)
Shelf A3

19. Anonymous: Darwin Vindicated
20. Anonymous: Death from the Bite of a Monkey
21. Anonymous: Monkeys Go Hopping
22. Anonymous: untitled
23. Anonymous: Rector and His monkey
24. Anonymous: Italian's Frightful Fall
25. Anonymous: Baboon Hunt in a Ship's Rigging
26. Anonymous: The Balloon Nuisance
27. Anonymous: Comic Zoology. The Monkey Tribe
28. Anonymous: This "Monk" is a Scrapper
29. Anonymous: A Bad Monkey
30. Anonymous: Poor Jocko
31. Anonymous: An Episode in Monkey Life
32. Anonymous: Donetti's Monkey Troupe
33. Anonymous: The Early Train to Versailles. A Baboon Passenger
34. Anonymous: A Monkey Trick
35. Anonymous: The Monkey and the Looking Glass
36. Anonymous: The Orang Outang
37. Anonymous: The Adventurous Boy
38. Anonymous: Monkeys Go Crabbing
39. Anonymous: Extracts from the Life and Death of My Monkey Jacko
40. Anonymous: The Vindictive Monkey
41. Anonymous: An Art Loving Monkey
42. Anonymous [A.B.C.]: Jocko
43. Anonymous: A Monkey Murderer
44. Anonymous: Monkey Stories
45. Anonymous: A Monkey Fireman
46. Anonymous: Gentleman Jocko
47. Anonymous: The Dishonest Milkwoman
48. Anonymous: While Jocko Dreamed of Cocoanuts
.49. Anonymous: A Monkey's Memory
50. Anonymous: Anecdotes of a Monkey
51. Anonymous: Good Jocko
52. Anonymous: Jocko in the Prize Ring
53. Anonymous: Jocko's Morning Call
54. Anonymous: Mary Musgrave


Darwin Vindicated. Establishing a Close Relation Between the Human and the Monkey

The National Police Gazette
36(147): 7
Mimicry leads to monkey's untimely demise

Darwin Vindicated
Establishing a Close Relation Between the Human and the Monkey

Anonymous. 1880. Darwin Vindicated. Establishing a Close Relation Between the Human and the Monkey. The National Police Gazette 36(147): 7. [Mimicry leads to monkey's untimely demise]

Goldsboro, N.C., July 2. -- One of the most novel executions that ever occurred in this section took place here to-day, the victim of which was a monkey owned by Mr. Rockwell Syrock. The animal was quite a favorite with all the children for miles around and knew most of them. For several years past Jocko's owner has been in the habit of visiting all of the hangings in this portion of the State, taking the mischievous animal with him, who always seemed to take an especial interest in the horrible details of such proceedings.

On the 25th of June Alex. Howard, a negro, was to have been executed here for the murder of an old man, but the Governor respited him. The gibbet was erected, and all the preliminary arrangements made for carrying out the negro's sentence, when the Executive interfered and postponed it. Syrock visited the jail with the monkey and examined these preparations. The animal seemed to be unusually cautious, and watched the scaffold and traps with wistful eyes. Since that time he has been playing hanging in his master's barn. This morning he was found dead, suspended by a clothes line to one of the rafters of the building.

Death from the Bite of a Monkey

News of the World
March 23 1851. p. 2
Infanticidal monkey in Lancashire

Death from the Bite of a Monkey

Anonymous. 1851. Death from the Bite of a Monkey. News of the World, March 23 1851. p. 2
[Infanticidal monkey in Lancashire]


An inquest has been held at the Grey Mare Inn, Rochdale, on the body of a child, the son of Mr. Gaskell, the landlord of the above house. It appeared that Mr. Gaskell had purchased a monkey for 18s, and not anticipating any danger from permitting the animal to remain in the house, sufficient caution was not exercised, until a serious disaster happened. The monkey, quite unexpectedly, made a sudden spring, and alighting on the head of the child, bit it so severely, that, notwithstanding the utmost attention of the medical man, the child died from the wound. A verdict of "Accidental death" was returned. The monkey has since been destroyed.

Monkeys Go Hopping

News of the World
August 26, 1900, p.4
Escaped monkeys hide out in hop fields

Monkeys Go Hopping

Anonymous. 1900. Monkeys Go Hopping. News of the World, August 26, 1900, p.4
[Escaped monkeys hide out in hop fields]

An amusing hunt took place in some hop fields, near Tunbridge Wells. As a circus was proceeding along the Hastings-road, several full-sized monkeys escaped from the carriage, and disappeared in the hop fields on either side of the highway. the attendants, a number of cyclists, and some farm hands with dogs pursued the animals for several hours, and the chase proved as diverting as it was novel. The monkeys appeared to be thoroughly at home among the hops, and they were not captured until quite exhausted by the long run they had given their pursuers.


News of the World
Nov. 11, 1900, p. 6
Should a professor pay the cab fare for his stuffed apes


Anonymous. 1900. -- untitled -- News of the World, Nov. 11, 1900, p. 6
[Should a professor pay the cab fare for his stuffed apes?]

Among the many stories told at the New College Jubilee, which has been celebrated by old students from among the Congregational ministry, one of the best was that told by the Rev. Alfred Rowland. It appears that Dr. Lankester had undertaken to explode the hideous suggestion that the origin of man was the monkey, and, with a view to a lecture on the gorilla, brought to the college three stuffed specimens. At the gate a quarrel ensued between the Doctor and the cabman, who demanded four fares! In explaining afterwards Dr. Lankester said: -- "It was not that I objected to pay; but it was the impudence of the fellow in insisting that these gorillas, brought for the purpose of showing they were not our relatives, were yet to be treated as paying guests."

Rector and His monkey

Weekly Dispatch
Feb 11, 1900, p.8
A priest's monkey bites child

Rector and His Monkey

Anonymous. 1900. Rector and His monkey. Weekly Dispatch, Feb 11, 1900, p.8
[A priest's monkey bites child]

Is a monkey domesticated or a wild animal? This was made a test point in a case before Judge Emden in the Lambeth County court on Thursday.

The Rev. J.W. Horsley, rector of St. Peter's, Walworth, has established in his churchyard a menagerie for the amusement and instruction of his parishioners. A monkey in the collection slipped his collar the other day and bit a child named Kates, whose father sued for damages. Mr. Horsley paid medical expenses, and said he was prevented from giving compensation by the bullying of the father.

It was stated that the monkey was tame when first taken to the menagerie, and would "shake hands and even kiss a person." Of course, explained Mr. Horsley, he might have altered his ways since.

The judge said he must hold that a monkey was a wild animal. Mr. Horsley was let off with 6s damages.

Italian's Frightful Fall

News of the World
April 22 1900, p. 2
An Italian falls to his death try to catch his monkey

Italian's Frightful Fall

[6] Anonymous. 1900. Italian's Frightful Fall News of the World, April 22 1900, p. 2
[An Italian falls to his death try to catch his monkey]

An itinerant Italian met with a terrible death at Hastings. A monkey which he had in his possession escaped and took refuge on the side of the cliff at East-hill. The owner endeavoured to recover the animal, but in doing so lost his balance and fell headlong on the rocks several hundred feet below. When his remains were recovered they were mutilated beyond all recognition.

Baboon Hunt in a Ship's Rigging

News of the World
July 20 1856, p.7
A baboon leads sailor on a multi-ship chase.

Baboon Hunt in a Ship's Rigging

Anonymous. 1856. Baboon Hunt in a Ship's Rigging News of the World, July 20 1856, p.7
[A baboon leads sailor on a multi-ship chase.]

On Wednesday an exciting chase took place among the shipping in the Wapping-dock, Liverpool, after a long-tailed baboon, which had escaped from the brig Shark, arrived there a few days since from South Africa. It appears the animal had been bought by a naturalist, who went on board the vessel in the morning for the purpose of taking possession of his slippery purchase; but the baboon seemed to have taken a sudden dread to terra firma, for in trying to lead it on shore it managed to escape, and at once darted up the brig's rigging. The hue-and-cry was immediately raised, and an exciting chase commenced, to the great amusement of the lookers-on. The men employed in the different vessels in the dock at once ascended in hot pursuit, but the cunning animal managed to elude its pursuers for several hours, for no sooner was it too hotly pressed on one vessel that it took refuge in the rigging of another. One man who had ascended the mainyard, and who had made sure of securing the runaway, was doomed to disappointment, for the baboon, after allowing him to approach to within a few feet, made a sudden spring on to the stays of an adjoining ship, where it hung for some time in mid-air, suspended by its tail; but at last, after going through a number of antics, and finding that its pursuers had wearied of the chase, Jocko descended, and took refuge in the cabin of another ship. As he entered quite unannouced, he so stratled the poor steward that he rushed on deck, exclaiming that the devil had got on board! The animal was at last secured by a sack being thrown over it, and was carried off in triumph by its owner, who had given up all hopes of ever coming into possession of his property. This curious specimen of the monkey tribe stands about 8.5 feet in height, in its natural state, walks upright, has long straight black hair, with a white face, is of a rare species, and seldom brouhgt to this country.

The Balloon Nuisance

News of the World
August 17, 1851, p. 6
A monkey balloonist and parachutist

The Balloon Nuisance

Anonymous. The Balloon Nuisance. News of the World, August 17, 1851, p. 6
[A monkey balloonist and parachutist]


On Tuesday Dr. Gill and Mr. Lovelock, of St. George's Villa, Canonbury-square, and Mr. Gardner and other inhabitants of Northhampton-terrace, Islington, attended at this court, for the purpose of soliciting the advice and assistance of Mr. Tyrwhitt under the following circumstances: -- It appeared from their statement, that on Monday evening last a balloon ascended from some gardens in the neighbourhood of Islington, and on its arrival at a certain altitude, a parachute, which contained a monkey, was separated, when it descended at a rapid rate and alighted in the garden of Mr. Lovelock. Immense crowds of ruffians assembled, and the houses of applicants were besieged and entered which caused great alarm to the ladies and other inmates. Mr. Lovegrove, jun., proceeded to the garden to take possession of the monkey, which was concealed in a wire cage. He was immediately attacked in a violent manner and was severely injured by the parties who claimed the monkey, and were anxious to obtain possession of it. Although this disgraceful outrage continued for three quarters of an hour, there was not a single policeman to be seen on the spot nor to be found in the neighbourhood. Mr. Gardner, feeling that not only the lives, but the property of himself and neighbours was at stake, he rode off in a cabriolet to the station-house to request assistance; but on his return he waited in vain for the arrival of the police, and when the riot was over only two constables made their appearance. Applicants complained generally of the absence of the police in the above neighbourhood, and of monkeys being let down in parachutes, to the damage and injury of their property. Several robberies had been committed in Canonbury-square, and very recently one lady had her gold spectacles taken from her nose, and another lady was robbed of her gold watch, and not a single policeman could be found on or near the spot. -- In answer to a question, applicant said the monkey was not attached to Mr. Hampton's balloon, which ascended on Monday evening, but to a fire balloon. Such balloons were frequently sent up, to the danger of the neighbourhood -- Mr. Tyrwhitt could not see how he could assist them. If their property was injured by monkeys being let down in parachutes, the owners of the balloons, who profited by such expeditions, were the parties to proceed against. It was cruel in the extreme to take up poor creatures, and send them down as described. With reference to any neglect on the part of the police, they ought to apply to the Commissioners of Police in Scotland-yard. -- Mr. Lovegrove said the unfortunate monkey was swollen and affrighted. The real owners offered a reward of 5s, to take the monkey back to them; and they (applicants) were continually annoyed in this way. They thanked the worthy magistrate and left the court, expressing their determination to apply to the Commissioners of Police.

Comic Zoology. The Monkey Tribe

June 4, 1870, p. 150
A comic survey of the monkey tribe

Comic Zoology. The Monkey Tribe

Anonymous. 1870. Comic Zoology. The Monkey Tribe. Punchinello, June 4, 1870, p. 150 [A comic survey of the monkey tribe.]

Of this genus there are countless varieties, differing widely in the cut of their monkey jackets, as the untravelled American naturalist will doubtless have observed on traversing his native sidewalk. The educated specimens met with in our cities are upon the whole well Organized, and appear to have music in their soles. For its feats à pied, the tame monkey is indebted to a Piedmontese who accompanies him.

To behold the monkey race in their glory, however, they must be seen in their native woods, where they dwell in genteel independence, enjoying their entailed estates and living on their own cocoa nuts. There will be found the Gibbon, whose Decline and Fall when yielding the Palm to some aspiring rival is swifter than that of the Roman Empire; the Barberry Ape, so called from feeding exclusively on Barberries; the Chimpanzee -- an African corruption of Jump-and-see, the name given to the animal by his first European discoverers in compliment to his alertness; the Baboon, a melancholy brute that, as you may observe from his visage, always has the blues; to say nothing of a legion of Red Monkeys, which are particularly Rum Customers.

Some men of science have advanced the theory that man is the climactic consequence of innumerable improvements of the monkey; the negro as he now exists being the result of the Fifteenth Amendment. These philosophers erect a sort of pyramid of progress, placing an Ape at the base and a Caucasian at the Apex. This wild hypothesis of a monkey apotheosis can of course only be regarded Jockolarly, in other words with a grin. Nevertheless the Marmoset is sufficiently like a little Frenchwoman to be called a Ma'amoiselle, and there are (in New-Zealand for instance) human heathen with a craving for the Divine, to whom the Gorilla, though not a man, is certainly a brother. Possibly the Orang Outang, if able to express his thoughts in an harangue, might say with Mr. DICKENS, "I am very human." He certainly looks it.

There is a strong facial resemblance among the simious races -- Simia Similibus. This likeness does not, however, extend in all cases to the opposite extremity. Some monkeys have no tails. Of the tailless Apes it is said that they originally erased their rear appendages by too much sitting -- perhaps as members of the "Rump" in some Anthropoid Congress. Be that as it may, the varieties that have retained their tails seem disposed to hang on them, and will doubtless continue to do so by hook or by crook.

The natives of Africa believe that the monkeys would converse with them if they were not afraid of being set to work; but it is quite apparent that they are not averse wither of labor or conversation, inasmuch as among themselves they frequently Mow and Chatter.

This "Monk" is a Scrapper

The National Police Gazette
77(1206): 14
A baboon assaults a police officer

This "Monk" is a Scrapper

Anonymous. 1900. This "Monk" is a Scrapper. The National Police Gazette, 77(1206): 14 [A baboon assaults a police officer]

"Come with me to the station house. I arrest you as a disorderly character," said a Chicago policeman the other day to a "gypsy queen," who was encamped on Cottage Grove avenue. The officer grabbed his prisoner by the arm and then there was a strange sound. Screeches, growls and other noises sometimes heard in the Jungle followed. The air about the policeman's head was as agitated as the business end of a funnel shaped cloud. Fur, hands, feet, a policeman's club, a helmet and various and sundry articles flew through the air. Jocko, a baboon who fills the office of the gypsy queen's cup bearer, was busier than he had been since he came from Rangoon. He had been concealed behind her majesty when the officer tried to arrest the woman, and undertook to take her part.

The baboon, the policeman, the queen and a little two-year-old princess had the atreet to themselves. Somebody telephoned to the Hyde Park station that the wild man of Borneo had just come to town, and a wagon load or officers was sent at once.

When the officers arrived they found the policeman on his back in the gutter kicking and shouting "Fire!" His uniform was scattered about the corners and brass buttons glistened in the sunlight. Jocko was trying vainly to pluck a handful of locks from the policeman's head.

When the officers captured Jocko and bundled him into the patrol wagon with his mistress and daughter, the baboon's fighting spirit again asserted itself. He managed to free his hands and attacked the driver with a vicious impetuosity which caused the startled driver to drop the reins. A runaway was in prospect when two strong men fell upon the baboon and again succeeded in tying his hands.

All the way to the station the struggle was continuous, with few intermissions for breath. Some of the police preferred to walk, and the driver all but gave up his job.

The gypsy, her child and baboon were all locked in one cell at the police station. An attempt was made to place the fierce huboon in another cell, but the animal commenced to make hostile demonstrations, aand for the peace of the station it was decided to lock the trio up together. Once in the cell with his mistress, the baboon was docile enough.

A Bad Monkey

The National Police Gazette
46(397): 14
Organ grinder's monkey taken to court for a dime and a scratch

A Bad Monkey

Anonymous. 1900. A Bad Monkey. The National Police Gazette, 46(397): 14 [Organ grinder's monkey taken to court for a dime and a scratch]

Thomas Barco, au Italian organ-grinder of 85 Mulberry street, and his fantastically-dressed monkey. Jocko, were taken to the Tombs Court the other morning. Half an hour earlier Barco was playing his organ in Mott street, when little Jenny McCabe leaned out of a window with a dime in her band. Jocko saw the dime, and, thinking it was for him, snatched it away, and put it in the pocket of his jacket. Jenny began to cry, and made a clutch for Jocko's pocket, but she didn't get the dime. Her hand was scratched, and a policeman took Jocko and his master to the Tombs Court.

Jocko was very humble, indeed, upon being taken before Justice Patterson. He put his paw upon his chest, and with downcast eyes, sat upon the Justice's big desk. Mrs. McCabe said she wanted the monkey killed. She was afraid her girl would die of hydrophobia. The organ-grinder and the monkey both protested excitedly.

"Take the monkey off, Eye-talian," said the Court, giving the dime back to Jenny. "Mrs. McCabe, your girl won't suffer from hydrophobia."\

Poor Jocko

Hours at Home. A Popular Monthly of Instruction and Recreation
4(3): 272-279
Incidents from the life of a rather stubborn monkey

Poor Jocko

[15] Anonymous. 1867. Poor Jocko. Hours at Home. A Popular Monthly of Instruction and Recreation, 4(3): 272-279. [Incidents from the life of a rather stubborn monkey]

In the last number of this magazine mention was made of a monkey which accompanied me from Panama. Jocko in that instance was held up before the public in rather an unenviable and unpleasant light, as a ravisher of nests, as a disturber of domestic peace; a wretch, in short, whom it were base flattery to call a coward. Little did I then think that he was so near to that undiscovered country referred to in a quotation with which the reader is perhaps familiar. Had a suspicion of the sad truth dawned upon me, had a shadow of the coming event so much as cast its pale penumbra upon the disk of the future, I should have tempered justice with mercy, and while chronicling his failings have confessed the sweet and saving amenities of his nature, setting forth his graces and virtues with a tenderness which should have redeemed him from utter reprobation in the eyes of a critical community.

But as with men, so with monkeys; justice is often denied them until they have passed away from the immediate sphere of action and their ear-drums are numb and dumb to the tap of honest praise. Let me pay to Jocko dead that desert which was denied him living. A brief record of his life and services, public and private, should not prove uninteresting even to the reader who vociferously disclaims a common humanity. And, though it serve no other end, it will surely comfort and interest the survivors of the family, contributing a sort of beacon-light for other monkeys to steer by, reminding them that they too, departing, may leave behind them tracks upon the sands of time for the encouragement of men and brothers. Very many biographies are written with no better motive, I fancy.

I first met Jocko de Panama on the Isthmus. The cars which were to whirl us across that narrow neck of land which partitions the two oceans were about starting, and I was looking through them to find a seat. The passengers as usual on railway trains looked wearisomely alike, dusty, dirty, and disagreeable. But one face and form broke the monotony. After this prelude it is needless to say that the face and form were those of Jocko. He sat as any other traveler might and probably would, occupying one seat with his body and another with his tail -- he had no carpet-sack, nor shawl, nor Saratoga trunk to file a preemption claim with -- and altogether evincing as little regard for the rights and convenience of others as he could had he been human. Notwithstanding that the seat on which he was sprawled was plainly enough meant for two, he could not have shown less intention of making room for me had he been a city merchant riding out to his suburban villa at Yonkers, or a lady with a plenitude of skirts and flounces. By way of hinting to him that I desired a seat, I planted the box I carried upon his tail, whereupon he drew it into him with a growl, while I took immediate possession of the recovered territory.

His face was intelligent and decidedly prepossessing, though not such a one, perhaps, as a sentimental girl would fall in love with at first sight. The brow was neither very lofty nor expansive, but the nose, besides being excessively characteristic, was quite delicately chiseled. His eyes were quick and piercing, but so red and restless withal that no novelist, probably, would ever feel justified in treating of them as "grand and beautiful orbs."" His mouth, though it might not have been considered good for a man, was excellent for a monkey. It was not "a rosebud mouth," perhaps, but I make bold to aver that it was a very good fruit and sugar mouth, as was amply demonstrated on our voyage. So much by way of personal description.

Deeming it one's bounden duty to make some attempt at sociability and agreeability even in a railway car, I at once made overtures to my neighbor. But a moment before I had succeeded in carrying on quite a pleasant flirtation with a most unpromising-looking parrot by scratching her head. So, reasoning by analogy that what pleased Poll must needs please Jocko, I put out my hand. His head disappeared from view as completely as though he had swallowed it, and nothing was to be seen but mouth -- mouth -- mouth -- open, defiant, and expectant. Declining to gratify his whim by putting a finger or even my foot in, I drew back, and after musing a moment on the ingratitude and inconsistency of men and monkeys, turned my attention to the scenery without. Palms, palms, palms -- nothing but palms so far as eye could reach; thick, impenetrable palms, of every variety and size, their trunks wound and bound together by an undergrowth through which a weasel could scarcely make way without the constant and most wearing use of teeth and claws. It seemed strange to be whirling through such a savage solitude in a regular passenger train, quite as close and uncomfortable as those with which we are familiar in the highest civilization. There was a strange blending of tame and wild in the scene and surroundings. Palm-trees brushed the top of the smoke-stack with their leaves, and parrots from the branches peered down the fuliginous funnel, clattering away on noisy wings with shrill shrieks when the shriller whistle was released to notify tigers and terrapins along the route that the engine was coming and the track must be cleared at the risk of their lives. On one side of me sat a monkey; on the other, a little dandy, wearing patent-leather boots, and his hair parted in the middle. In front of me sat a New-England girl eating bananas and remarking upon the long apples of the country, while behind me lolled a returning Californian, who evidently held to the orthodox belief that a successful miner should neither shear nor shave, but always wear a slouched hat and his boots outside his trowsers. An old gentleman a seat or two distant was cracking fresh Brazil-nuts with false teet! Every thing, in fact, was anomalous, and not the least of tho anomalies was the composure with which I turned from a contemplation of the wild and beautiful, the strange and unaccustomed, betaking myself to sleep, as though the train was only whirling us past farm-yards where pullets cackled and cows lowed about red barndoors.

Murder! what was that? And I sprang from my seat with a yell which rose clear and shrill above the rattle and thump of the train. A sensation as though a pair of red-hot nippers had taken hold of my solid flesh, and never intended to let go. By accident I had trod on Jocko's tail, which hung pendent to the floor, and snap, through some of the best and thickest cloth which ever loom wrought or tailor cut, went his white and glittering teeth. Never did Durham cow closer cling to her calf than clung that monkey to mine. His owner came to the rescue, and, vicious and snarling, he let go his hold. Punishment, prompt and weighty, followed. So terrible, however, were his shrieks, and so pleading his supplications, that I begged for his pardon and procured it. I do not know that I deserve any special credit for magnanimity on the occasion, since, after having been bitten and stung by the jiggers, mosquitoes, and gallinippers of those latitudes, the bite of a monkey is rather a pleasant relief. Jocko seemed to appreciate my interference in his behalf; at least he curled himself up in my lap, and sobbed himself to sleep like a repentant child.

On the passage up from Aspinwall I saw him frequently. He was a study to me. In some things he was very human indeed. All memory of subsequent kindness seemed to have passed away, and he only remembered that once I trod on his tail. I tried to revive some recollection of my generous interference in his behalf, but this could only be accomplished by "tipping" him a lump of sugar. Another monkey was on board, and a greater contrast than existed between these two can not well be imagined. The one was lively and jolly as a fire-cracker on the Fourth of July, jumping about and swinging his tail, for want of a hat, in one perpetual jollification. But tho other -- my Jocko that became -- was sullen and morose. He seemed to look upon every one who approached him as his natural enemy, and to view the world at large as a great ball of dirt, against which he entertained a grudge of long standing. If one attempted to do him a kindness, he suspected that some sinister motive lay beneath. He must have been betrayed, I think, in early life. The object of his young affections, perhaps, took up with some other monkey that had a higher roost, and knew where there were more bananas and cocoa-nuts, or perhaps he was an aspirant for political preferment which was denied him. The theory that it was grief at leaving his native woods which jangled the sweet bells of his temper so sadly out of tune I discredit and deny. But whatever may have been the cause the effect was indisputable. Like Byron, he did not love the world, nor the world him. The treatment he received from the sailors, perhaps, had something to do with confirming him in his morose views of life and the eternal unfitness of things; for it certainly could not conduce much to amiability of temperament to have tobacco-juice squirted into his eyes, while his neighbor was fed and fêted with gingerbread from the cabin. In some cases discipline hardens rather than softens. Poor Jocko! I think of his trip from Aspinwall hither with sorrow and regret, for emphatically his hand was against every man, and all hands were against him. For the time he was the Ishmael of the seas, and received in deed what is proverbially said to be "monkey's allowance" -- more kicks than halfpence. He could not have been worse treated had he been a cabin-boy.

Judge of my surprise when on reaching New-York his owner came up, and, putting the raw-hide thong which bound him into my hand, said, "Me presentez you." What moved my Spanish friend to the generosity? Had he noticed that someway there was a sympathetic feeling between us? That I, too, was naturally of a rather unhappy turn of mind, viewing the world through dyspeptic and bilious glasses, shrinking from specie and my species, and preferring solitude to the busy hum of the masses, folding sorrow to my breast and brooding over a secret grief? Verily, I know not; but whatever were the motives which inspired the don the thing was done, and a tableau in which I stood as the central figure was the result.

In my astonishment I fear that I forgot to return thanks, or even signify a gracious acceptance of the gift. And the man was gone and the monkey mine. There was a position for a stranger to occupy, landing after an absence of years in the metropolis of America. I thought of the man who drew the elephant in the lottery; of Bulwer's What will He do with It? and contemplated a small work myself, to be entitled Too Much by Half. But there was no help for it; and with a resignation worthy of the politest Parisian I prepared to "accept the situation." To a certain extent Jocko was a foundling thrust upon my hands, and I could not conscientiously abandon him to the cold charities of the world.

There was some slight trouble at landing. The reader, perhaps, knows that a custom-house officer is stationed at the gangway of all vessels arriving under suspicion of having touched at foreign ports in their wanderings, whose business it is to overhaul baggage and ask passengers troublesome conundrums before permitting them to go ashore. To satisfy him that I had nothing contraband about me, and, at the same time, keep the frightened Jocko quiet, was more than one man could do. It was the monkey's first introduction to hack-drivers, and he was endeavoring to outchatter them. Some sympathizer approached him to offer an apple, but he, mistaking the overture for one of a threatening character, sprang from my arms, and seized the unprepared officer by the hair, at the same time that his tail wound round that astonished individual's neck like the folds of a small boa-constrictor. The startled man gave a nervous spring, which would have landed him over the rail and in the bay had not the monkey's tail held him in check as firmly and securely as a tugboat snubbed by a hawser. A wonderful prehensile force lurked in that tail of Jocko, let me here explain, and his first movement on effecting a change of base was to lasso the most convenient thing that offered. Lead him through a room and he would switch chairs along with him and overturn tables like a medium of forty Fox-girl power. The only time that I remember to have seen him fairly baffled in an attempt to garrote any thing animate or inanimate was when he curled his narrative round a red-hot stove, and attempted to drag that from its firm-set foundations. It was too heavy, and he let go in despair. But to return to my narrative.

We finally got ashore, Jocko clinging to me more closely than a brother; a carriage was chartered, and in a few minutes we were safely housed within the hospitable doors of the Metropolitan Hotel. "Entertainment for man and beast " does not appear upon the sign of that great caravansary, but in this case it was forthcoming. Jocko was turned over to the tender mercies of the freedmen connected with that bureau, and among them he seemed to feel perfectly at home. Indeed, he made himself so much at home that he hesitated not at all in inserting his teeth into a convenient leg or arm, and numerous complaints came to me of his conduct. I always made answer that they must not tease him; for it is a pleasant fiction to suppose that no animal will bite or scratch unless provoked to such unbecoming violence by unkind treatment. For all that, however, I don't know that I should like to caress one of those huge turtles which are found in the vicinity of the Galapagos Islands, or have the care of a wild-cat. On one occasion Jocko tore up an overcoat belonging to one of the porters. I have no doubt but that the man had poked sticks at the monkey a day or two before, and that this was merely one of those astonishing cases of instinct and revenge which are occasionally to be met with in natural histories; but for all that, I had to pay for the coat. I regret to record the fact, but there seemed to be quite a feeling of relief among the freedmen and our fellow-boarders when myself and the monkey took our departure.

The journey to the country-home which was to be the future scene of Jocko's life and usefulness was not performed without many trials on my part. He persisted in viewing every one who approached as an enemy, and scolded at the audiences which congregated round us in a way that was perfectly deafening. And his disregard for the rights of property was perfectly startling in its proportions. A clergyman, I remember, who sat in front of us, had opened a nice lunch-basket, and was regaling himself and [a] little boy with the cakes, provided probably by a careful wife and mother. Jocko, without tho least warning of his intention, reached over and snatched the whole affair from the old gentleman's lap, instantly and almost simultaneously swinging himself to the rack intended for the reception of bats and umbrellas. In that stronghold he intrenched himself, by the aid of that wonderful tendril of a tail, refusing to be dragged forth, and scolding and chattering like one possessed when a restitution of the plunder was peremptorily demanded.

It was at one of the stations where we changed cars that he made his first acquaintance with the great principle of caloric, as practically illustrated and set forth in a hot stove. Down on the Isthmus stoves are not in very general use, especially in the summer season, and at the hotel, owing to that unfortunate prejudice against color which some landlords entertain, he was put into a room without a fire. This morning it was biting cold, and there was a glowing fire in the station stove. The warmth was grateful to Jocko, and he cuddled up within its radiations. Being of an essentially investigating turn of mind, he was not willing to accept a good without understanding it; and so put forth his hand to feel the stove. He gave a short, sharp cry of pain and astonishment, looking first at his hand, then at me, and then at the stove for an explanation of the phenomenon. Neither myself nor the stove responded. Being but a child of the forest, the saying about a burnt child and the fire originally failed of exemplification in his case. He put out his hand again and patted the stove, as though he would disarm it of will to hurt by a caress. One howl and there was an end of all experiments; Jocko was satisfied. And I thought to myself how much better it would have been for him had he been satisfied before. Are there not as sweet influences in life which it is better to accept and be thankful for than attempt to grasp and analyze? On leaving, however, Jocko was reluctant to come with me, and on my attempting to drag him he as usual lashed out with his tail, and the stove being handy, selected that as his piece de resistance. You may be sure that he did not hold to it long, and this, as I have already remarked, furnishes the only instance in which I ever knew him to be thoroughly beaten and baffled in his great caudal trick.

Finally our destination was reached. The family rushed to the door to embrace the returned one. But Jocko was before them. Alarmed at the sudden demonstration and the shouts of welcome, he sprang upon my shoulder, curled his tail round my neck, and set up a series of the most discordant screams. It was impossible to dislodge him. Very few embraces fell to my lot, with Jocko thus claiming his full share of the endearments.

The paroquets which I brought home going to Fanny, the monkey, as a matter of course, fell to Willie. Frankly let me confess that Jocko's début in Little Pedlington created decidedly more sensation than did mine. Numerous calls came from both old and young, professedly upon me, but such speedy inquiries were made for the monkey that I very soon regretted having brought such a rival in popularity to thw village. I "had him" (the phrase is almost a classic one) on wealth, good clothes, and slightly on good looks, I flatter myself, but he had the great advantage, of novelty. One young lady kissed him and called him a "sweet creature." No such pleasant experience, I regret to say, fell to my lot. Some ragged shreds of his halo, however, fell upon me, for was I not his showman? The great exhibition was to show him eating an egg. This he took in his hand, biting off one end in his mouth and smoothing the edges till he had a perfect cup. He would then put it to his mouth and drink off the yellow lees as though it were the wine of life, and he privileged by letters patent to quaff the draught. Disturb him as you would, chase him even to the eaves of the barn, and still he carried that royal cup in his hand, never spilling nor wasting a drop. There was a great demand for this exhibition, but eggs being scarce and high, the head of the family put in a mild inhibition, and it was not often given, being reserved for special and great occasions. With the manner in which Jocko got up a show-piece with birds' eggs the reader has been made familiar in a previous number. His fondness for eggs gave Agnes, confessedly "the wit of tho village, " opportunity to make a bon-mot which has become traditional throughout all that northern country.

The question was asked, "What is his diet!"

"Oh! various," she replied with perfect composure.

A pole some twenty feet high was finally stuck in the ground, with a sliding ring on it, to which Jocko was secured by a chain. A rope or a leather string proved useless to confine him, as he would eat through either with almost a single snip of his teeth. At the base of the pole was a neat little cottage, comfortably bedded down with straw, and at the top was a sizable truck, made from the head of an oyster keg. Jocko had a choice of amusements. He could either sit in his house and indulge in reminiscences of the past, or he could climb to the top of the pole and busy himself with the present. It was indeed a sight to see him seated on that royal truck, contemplating the surrounding scenery and smoothing the kinks out of his tail. He looked like an astronomer looking out for a meteoric shower, or endeavoring to discover some planet which Herschel had overlooked. Down below, seated in the door of his house, so cynical was his whole air, that I was strongly reminded of Diogenes in his tub. Like Diogenes, too, Jocko fairly refused to believe in honest men. He was suspicious of all about the premises, and never tasted food without smelling to see if it were poisoned. It was strange to me that with all his sagacity he did not press the cat into his service as cup-bearer or king's taster. His keen, quick eye was never still, and his wrinkled face might be seen popping out of doors if a step was heard advancing toward his dormitory. Of the horse, "Old Mike," he entertained a comical horror, and if at any time he refused to climb for the benefit of guests, it was only necessary to open the stable door and let Mike put out his head, to send him hand over hand up the pole, like a sailor mounting the main-top gallant mast of a man-of-war.

The Canucks of the village took a special interest in him; and one day Willie received a note making some inquiries about the singe. He knew by internal evidence it referred to the monkey; but his lessons in French had been but few, and the singe troubled and puzzled him. On finding out that it meant monkey, he traced the derivation of the word to something connected with a singed cat, and I am not sure but that the boy was correct in his theory, since in many respects Jocko resembled that representative or rather comparative creature.

Fannie refused to join the train of Jocko's admirers. Besides destroying her birds' nests and eating the eggs, he pulled out what little tails her rabbits had, and this she did not like at all. One day, too, he made a rush at her kitten, and nearly tore the little thing's scalp off in an attempt to solve the mystery of its ears. The idea of husking a kitten's ears, as one might ears of corn, did not strike Fannie so comically as it did me, and her complaints were loud and many. She liked the bird I brought her better; but still her sympathy did not much incline to foreign pets, and to have heard that the monkey had calmly and peacefully died of a fit of indigestion, consequent from having eaten the parrot, would have filled her cup of happiness to overflowing, I think.

I rejoice to say, however, that Jocko improved in temper and habits, and promised at some day to become quite an ornament to society. He developed a degree of intelligence which was really surprising. One day, after I had whipped him for some outrageous misdemeanor, and was leading him to serve out a sentence of solitary confinement in the barn, he climbed to my hand by his chain, seized the switch which I was carrying, and threw it far away. At times so human was the expression of his face that I could scarcely believe but that it was a little wrinkled old man. If a switch was raised to punish him, down he would lie; and, raising his hands in the most supplicating way, beg for mercy as intelligibly as any human being could have done. Very often I am inclined to think that the Africans who claim that the monkey only refrains from speech through fear that he would be set to work if he betrayed his possession of the gift, are not so far out in their theory after all.

But cold weather came on apace, and then what to do with Jocko became a serious question. The barn was not warm enough for him, and he would scarcely be "a good thing to have in the house." After much cogitation I at length determined to ship him down to Barnum. In the great Museum, with all its wonders of vegetable and animal life, he might fancy himself in his own isthmus forests. There were the Giant and the Dwarf, types respectively of a higher and a lower life; the Albino woman, looking not unlike a female Chimpanzee; the Fat Boy, puffing and blowing like a river hippopotamus; and the Lightning Calculator, who would answer admirably for any kind of a bore -- constrictive or otherwise. Was there not, too, the Happy Family, and why should not Jocko join it? True, he was by no means of a happy disposition naturally, but so much the more reason for giving him cheerful domestic surroundings. I bethought me of the "pleasant family" that every now and then advertises to board one or two young gentlemen, giving them "the comforts of a home;" and though I have never availed myself of any of these opportunities, there was no reason why Jocko should not. So to Barnum I wrote. He curtly replied, "Send him to Greenwood." Surely there is some mistake, said I; he thinks I come to bury Jocko, not to praise him; and I wrote again. Answer came that Greenwood was the managing man of the Museum, and that the cemetery was not meant. Very soon, thereafter, a box was made, and in it Jocko was shipped, by express, duly provisioned for the voyage, and legibly labeled, "This side up with care."

"Send him to Greenwood!" Strange that my foreboding soul had not recognized the omen.

On coming down to the city a few weeks since, my first visit was to the Museum. I expected to hear that the last addition had strangled the happy cat, bitten the happy little dog's nose off, and devoured two or three of the happy hens. But no; no such report met me. His behavior had been good in the main, though the keeper did not think he was quite as fond of gayety and gymnastics as some monkeys he had seen. I visited that third floor -- easily traceable by its smells -- where the Happy Family has its abiding-place. Sure enough there sat Jocko, but a more unhappy-looking fellow never saw I. He was perched up most unsociably by himself, holding no communion with his kind, and in no way manifesting any interest in the abounding happiness which surrounded him. The beatific monkeys swung themselves by their beatific tails, and rolled themselves and their echoes from polo to pole of the cage; the beatific cock crowed, and the beatific owl winked its wise eyes, but no attention to any of them paid Jocko de Panama. In memory I still see that grim Saul sitting among the prophets, silent and solitary as Tara's harp, within those happy walls. I spoke to him, but -- strange commentary on the affection of animals -- he evidently knew me not. His eye did not brighten at sound of either my step or my voice. In my most winning way spoke I to him again, but again there was no sign of recognition. He scratched himself, but made no sign. The keeper said he was sick, but would be well in a day or two. I asked what ailed him, and the reply was, "A little cough." Little cough indeed! it is so that all anxious friends of a patient are cheated. Once or twice Jocko coughed, and I noticed that the sound was hollow as though it came from a sepulchre. There was a narrowness about his shoulders too, and he sat in a stooping attitude, looking more like a wrinkled little old man than ever. But there was no hectic flush upon his cheek to speak of consumption, nor did I then know that the disease is one to which his transplanted race is subject, though I have since been told that it works fearful ravages among monkeys in this northern climate. With an adjuration to the keeper to be kind to my old pet, and a small gratuity to insure such a result, I took my leave, promising to look in again in a few days.

Alas! when I again looked in, Jocko had stepped out; the Happy Family was destitute of its unhappy member. On inquiring for him I was answered only by the monosyllable, "Dead." The particulars of his death which I was enabled to ascertain were very vague and meagre indeed. Cod-liver oil was given him, but I've an idea that he did not take kindly to it. Had eggs been good for the consumption, there would have been no difficulty in persuading him to take medicine, but oil was another thing. "His decline was very rapid indeed," so said the keeper. And I do not doubt that he spoke the words of truth; for it has been whispered to me by an attaché of the establishment that when a bird or beast is pronounced incurable, whether the complaint be consumption, dropsy, trichina, or what not, it is forthwith taken out from its cage and knocked on the head.

I do not know that I am so sorry for Jocko's fate as I should have been had he enjoyed life more. But, like King Felix, I fear he was only destined to ring the "happy bell" in death; and I have sometimes thought that the happiness around him had quite as much to do with driving him to death as any pulmonary complaint. For Mr, Barnum, who scarcely had time to get his money back, I have some sympathy; but, after all, I do not really think he will suffer from this death what might well be called a dead loss. I expect to see that monkey stuffed and doing duty as a merman at no very distant day. Knowing that some use would be made of his skin, I made no application for the body. But depend upon it that on the green banks of Lake Champlain a cenotaph shall be erected. And on a palm-leaf, sculptured above the monumental mound, shall be written:

whose premature decease was occasioned by
the rigors of a northern climate,
and too much
Happiness in one Family.

"After life's fitful fever he sleeps well."

An Episode in Monkey Life

The Albion, A Journal of News, Politics and Literature
13(51): 603
Indian monkeys take revenge on the boa which killed and ate one of their own

An Episode in Monkey Life

Anonymous. 1854. An Episode in Monkey Life. The Albion, A Journal of News, Politics and Literature 13(51): 603.
[Indian monkeys take revenge on the boa which killed and ate one of their own]

I have had some experience of what a jungle-life in India is, and cannot therefore ignore a certain amount of familiarity with a class of animals which, from the days of Eve's temptation, has acquired a character for cunning, malignity, and spite, from which its aspect -- at times, indeed, the very beauty of ugliness -- by no means exonerates it. Emblems of the revolting and the terrible have serpents always been, and yet who can deny that a certain singular fascination belongs to them, which renders the slenderest details about them strangely interesting, even to those who regard them with utter abhorrence? Not only in the kingdom of Snakedom have I freely wandered, without, alas! having acquired that magical masterdom over the reptile race of which George Borrow naturally boasts, but I have also had some ongoings with the monkey-tribe; and the other day, as I was hunting up a parcel of old manuscript journals for some records of my ancient soldiership, I came upon a page or two that contained anecdotal reminiscences of facts which I had myself witnessed in reference to both snake and monkey, of sufficient singularity to warrant publication. Let it not be supposed that I am a naturalist, a scientific judge of the creatures of the woods, be they crawlers or catamounts, mice or monkeys. I intend simply to relate what fell under my own observation, without pretending to describe classically, or even to classify methodically, the peculiar races to which the individuals of my text belonged. A soldier from early youth, rudely trained in camp and cantonment, I was far more eager to study the gazels and rekhtas of the love-sick Hindoo poets, as chanted by the sweet-voiced dancing-girls of the Deccan, than to acquire even a superficial knowledge of that useful branch of natural history which would have taught me to distinguish at sight a poisonous from a harmless reptile, a useful and edible from an unwholesome or deleterious vegetable.

Many years ago, in the year 1823, I happened to be with my regiment -- a battalion of Madras native infantry -- on the march from Bangalore, in Mysore, to Kulladghee, in the Doab. We had reached the hill-forts of Badaumy, in the province of Bejapoor, where we halted for a day; and at any place more strikingly picturesque we had not stopped during the three hundred and odd miles we had traversed. Yet it has curiously escaped the observation and description of which it is worthy: as far as I know, the only mention of Badaumy on record are the few lines in Hamilton's Gazetteer, that give it a lat. 16° 6' N., a long. 75° 46' E., and term it a place of some strength, which can be taken only by a regular siege, which would require a heavy equipment. To this scanty and vague account I will only add, that not only from its position, on and among strangely shaped mountains, and the capabilities it possesses, and which have been taken advantage of by the Mahrattas, as a fortified station; but likewise from its being a noted stronghold of Hindoo idols, in caves and temples, and mysterious crypts, reached only by winding subterranean stairs and passages cut through the cliffs, it deserves a close survey and scrutiny from some individual willing and able to describe, fully and truthfully, the place and the marvels it contains.

I have never witnessed the wonders of Elora or Elephanta, but though on a diminished scale, the lions of Badaumy are of the same nature, and compel admiration from the least enthusiastic observer. The hill-forts themselves, comprising two different sides or peaks of the same mountain-ridge in whose recesses the small town is built, are specimens of what art can do when nature has prepared the foundation for its labours. At the very top of the steepest precipice, a pool of excellent water supplies that element from sources which no amount of heat has ever exhausted; and down in the narrow valley, amongst the houses of the village, a large and well-built talab, or tank, of delicious water -- cool and wholesome, though of a bright smaragdus green -- affords unfailing refreshment. On each side of this pond are houses or gardens, and over two ends of this mountain-gap lower the twin-fortalices, opposite each other -- the highest precipice, called Kunmundle, being grotesque in shape, and terrific in gloomy grandeur. Encamped outside the town, no sooner had night descended upon us, ere the reports we had heard of the number of sacred monkeys that abounded in the neighbourhood were confirmed. Had we reached the place at night, ignorant of this fact, we might have concluded that we had fallen upon some terrible Armageddon, haunted by rebellions ghouls and afrits in venomous conflict; for from every peak and jutting promontory arose such a discord of monkey-voices, as, in other circumstances, one would have been only too ready to ascribe to diabolic agencies. Yells, shrieks, hootings, indescribably wild, detained us as if by a spell for more than an hour; and presently when the moon rose, we could distinguish the imp-like creatures springing from tree to rock, and from stone to stone, up among the cliffs, and, as we supposed, exercising some warlike evolutions, or engaged in some fierce gala of animal life, until by dint of observation we really came to think they had got up a dramatic representation for our peculiar amusement. We were afterwards informed, that the opposite ridges of the mountains were severally occupied by two distinct families or clans of monkeys -- the very Montagues and Capulets of the order Simia -- between whom regned a perpetual feud, which often terminated in blood and death.

Some months after our arrival at Kulladghee, I applied for a few weeks' leave; which being granted, I resolved to revisit Badaumy. I reached it at a season when the surrounding country was arrayed in the brightest livery of summer; and in addition to the attractions supplied by the wild windings and subterranean passages to the hill-forts, with the cavernous temples in the rocks, containing the whole Hindoo Pantheon in beautifully carved images of an amazing size, I found great pleasure in traversing the jungles around, climbing the rocks, and penetrating into the ravines, in search of plants and wild-berries, whose nature aud native names were revealed to me by my faithful Mussulman moonshee, or teacher, who had consented to accompany me. To this truly-excellent man, Noor-ood-Deen, I owe my first introduction to the art of simple-gathering; and in after-days, during a campaign, when the Addition of a single wholesome vegetable to our wretched meals became av rare luxury, I bad reason to remember with gratitude that his advice and teachings had suggested the utility as well as loveableness of the study of botany.

He taught me likewise to observe the habits of those very monkeys, whose nocturnal orgies had startled us on our first arrival at Badaumy, as well as to distinguish the speckled gray and white tree-snake, which is so fatal, from the spotted brown and green one, which haunts the same bowery recesses, yet is harmless. He told me that venomous serpents are generally marked by a greater width of cerebral formation behind, which gives to the neck the appearance of being smaller than it really is; and he warned me to beware of dark and briery paths, where the track of snails was discernible -- such being a sure indication of the vicinity of snakes. From him I learned, that some of the deadliest, when taken unawares, roll themselves up spirally, the head elevated, when suddenly uncoiling, they spring forward on their disturber, man or beast, with surprising velocity. Strange things he related of the dawa, or revengeful feeling, retained by the cobra da capello against any individual who has pursued, or tried to kill it; and of the odd antagonistic feeling of the ape against the cock, the serpent, and the apparently harmless tortoise. A monkey has, indeed, a ridiculous horror of the latter; and I have often tested its more legitimate terror of the viper, by enclosing one in a chatty, or earthen-pot, with a covered lid, placed near poor Jacko. Ever inquisitive, he instantly flies to scrutinise the contents of the vessel: but the moment he slowly and cautiously raises the lid, and the serpent's head becomes visible, it is ludicrous to watch the mixture of dread and prudence which agitates him. With a quick motion, he shuts down the lid, screams, and makes the most hideous grimaces, dances round the pot, and presently returns to it, touches the lid, but too wise to lift it, makes a sudden exit from the scene.

But now I come upon that point in my sketch which bears upon my promised anecdote. The moonshee did not accompany me, as I set out one bright morning to ramble about my favourite rocks, where I found ample store of wild plants and flowers, whose names and qualities I better know now than I did then. Amongst the most striking of these may be mentioned the beautiful bael-tree (Aegle marmelos), which bears a hard, rinded, apple-shaped fruit, of aromatic smell, and covered with a slimy exudation. It has recently been introduced into medical practice in England, as an astringent of efficacy in diarrhoea. Up and around this fine tree clambered a magnificent parasite, the Casalpinia paniculata, festooning the glittering leaves of its supporter with a dark glossy foliage and gorgeous racemes of orange blossoms. A shrub, which seemed to be a favourite food of the monkey, yet which belongs to the deleterious oleander tribe, had a peculiarly striking appearance, from bearing at the same time a profusion of snowy blossoms and a grotesque fruit, not unlike twin-pods of a bean, their narrow extremities united together. The whole plant is full of a slimy milk; and if, as I conclude, it be the Nerium tinctorum of Roxburgh, and of the order Apocyneae, it possesses very powerful qualities as a medicine and as a dye. The Datura, too, abounded, scenting the air with an oppressive odour, too luscious for enjoyment. The seeds are frequently conveyed into the potions prepared by the Thug and the Dacoit to stupify their intended victim. But a long article might be made about these Oriental plants, whilst I must proceed with my story.

I was climbing one of the slanting ascents of the Bunmundle cliff, when I became aware that an unusual commotion reigned amongst my friends the monkeys, which had by this time got so familiarised with my appearance, that they seldom condescended to honour me with a snarl, or a bough flung towards me in sport. I was conscious that something went wrong with them; and as I knew that sentiments of superstition, if not of humanity, preserved them from the persecutions of the natives, I became curious as to the cause of the prevalent excitement. Creeping round a rock, behind which they appeared to congregate, and on which grew a large gum-arabic tree, completely golden with the abundance of yellow blossoms which covered it, and which, like Tennyson's lime-tree, was in sooth

A summer-home of murmurous wings--
I at once found myself on the stage of a strange tragedy in simian life. In the voluminous folds of an enormous boa constrictor was being slowly inwrapped a beautiful brown monkey, whose last cries and struggles denoted that I came too late, even had I been prepared to do battle with the reptile in the cause of oppressed innocence. The monkeys, in evident alarm, ran hither and thither, moping and mowing, and chattering; but not one advanced near the spot, where presently their poor companion became almost quite hidden from view in the embraces of its destroyer. Determined to watch the process of the affair, I quietly sat down, until gradually the monkey had been moulded, as it were, into a proper condition for deglutition, for I could hear the bones crack as they broke beneath the pressure to which they were subjected; and erelong [sic], as the serpent began to untwist its folds, I could admire at leisure the magnificence of its glittering scales, that shone like some richly variegated metallic substance. I shuddered as I beheld its grand and awful head -- the prominent orbits of the eyes -- and the eyes themselves large, and luminous with a fiery light. The creature was at least twenty feet in length, and was apparently famished by a long fast. Perfectly heedless of the noise made by the monkeys, it unwound its coils till the victim, now an unrecognisable mass, lay before it lubricated and fit to be received into the destroyer's stomach.

When the reptile had fairly commenced its repast, and the before flaccid body began to fill and swell, I retired from the arena of conflict and hall of banquet, desirous of summoning my friend Noor-ood-Deen to assist me in capturing the sated giant. I knew that when gorged to repletion, there would be no difficulty in making a prize of tbe serpent; and the moonshee entered into my plans right willingly. Accompanied by a stout lascar, bearing a strong cudgel and a sharp knife, for slaughter and skinning, we lost little time in reaching tbe scene, where, however, fresh marvels were being enacted, proving that the passion of revenge is not confined to the human breast. Keeping aloof, we resolve not to mar by any interference the by no means mystifying operations in which the monkeys were engaged.

The boa constrictor lay, thoroughly gorged and like a log of wood, beneath the same projecting mass of cliff where I had left it. On the summit of this rock a troop of monkeys had assembled, and three or four of the largest and strongest were occupied in displacing an immense fragment of the massive stone already loosened by time and the elements, from the rest of the ledge. This mass almost overshadowed tbe reptile. By enormous exertions, made in a silence that was rare with them, they at last succeeded in pushing it onwards until it hung over the boa's head when uttering a fierce yell, in which every separate voice mingled until it took a diapason of undescribable discord, by a vigorous movement they shoved it sheer down. The heavy mass fell right on the serpent's head, crashing it as if it were a cocoa-nut; and as the reptile lashed its fearful tail about in the final struggles of life, we could not refrain from joining in the singular chorus of rejoicing with which the monkeys now celebrated their accomplished vengeance. Truly, from the feats of the malicious baboon that gloried in the name of Major Weir, to the amiable creature of which Philip Quarles tells, I can remember of no recorded facts that surpass this evidence in favour of monkey-memmory and monkey-wisdom, and I vouch for its truth as far as it goes knowing well that my friend Noor-ood-Deen, still flourishing in the Black Town of Madras, will add his testimony to any applicant for confirmation of the anecdote.

Donetti's Monkey Troupe

Gleason's Pictorial Drawing-Room Companion
3(3): 33
Description of a trained monkey act

Donetti's Monkey Troupe

Anonymous. 1852. Donetti's Monkey Troupe. Gleason's Pictorial Drawing-Room Companion 3(3): 33. [Description of a trained monkey act]

We present below an engraving illustrating a scene from the famous and most remarkable performance of Donetti's trained animals, as they lately appeared at the Astor Place Opera House. Our descriptive sketch is taken from the programme of performance. M. Donetti, an Italian by birth, after a hard study of thirty years, has succeeded in training a number of animals, so as to make them do his bidding. But if they lose sight of him only for a moment, their savage instinct instantly returns to them. M. Donetti has triumphed over them only by the power of his eyes, and he seldom or never punishes them. It is by kindness alone he has obtained the wonderful results of which we give a description. In scene 1st, the curtain rises slowly and discloses a table, around which six well dressed monkeys of different species are sitting down, waiting for their supper. They sit with demure faces, excepting now and then a chattering which they hold together, resembling the chattering of men in a hurry to get their food. Mme. Kattafia, another monkey, dressed in a blue skirt and short gown, with cap on head, comes in with a pair of candles, which she places on the table, and retires to bring in the edibles, and with a quickness of motion and propriety of conduct, which ought to be copied by a number of our servants. Mme. Rattafia's son, a little tiny monkey, dressed as a cook, with white frock and white night cap, brings in a plate of salad, which is placed before the convivial party, which is soon devoured with gusto by the hungry crew; cakes, nuts, and other dainties are brought in, which follows the salad. Mme. Rattafia and her son bring in a basket of wine, each monkey receives his bottle, which he seems to enjoy. The whole scene is one which creates shouts of laughter. M. Donetti next introduces to the audience Le Magot d'Afrique, a handsomely-dressed monkey, who jumps on a slack rope, and performs evolutions on it which put to shame many a slack-rope- dancer, which we see in our circuses. The next slack-rope evolutionist introduced is La Superbe Madrille, who goes through the most surprising feats of tumbling and whirling on the rope, to the great enjoyment of the audience; such a happy set of faces as were present at the representation, are seldom met on any other occasion. General Jocko, with sabre in hand, riding on a beautiful dog, now comes in, followed by his army of monkeys on foot, the first of whom, as he follows on his hind legs, leans his head on the dog's tail, while the other three, also bending their backs, repose in like manner upon him and each other, performing several military evolutions. In another scene, Mlle. Minie, the great equestrienne, comes in, riding on a magnificent dog, and goes through her exercises in a creditable manner, jumping on and off her courier with the greatest agility, and performing in imitation of the circus riders, going through all her feats with a serious face, and with the greatest apparent satisfaction. M. Donetti next introduces the light-rope dancer, a mandrille of the largest size, who, in imitation of the rope dancer, has his feet chalked, and then commences his dancing and jumping on the rope with a balance pole in his hand. At the rise of the curtain, and at the sound of martial music, the Marchioness of Batavia enters, riding in her barouche, drawn by two beautiful white poodles. On the box, a monkey coachman sits with the reins in his hand, and cracking his wlnp. Behind the carriage, a monkey footman, in rich livery, rides. The noble monkey lady has occasion to descend from her carriage, and displays her rich costume. She remounts, and the carriage starts at a rapid rate, one of the linch pins gives way, the barouche is upset, the monkey lady falls out, but fortunately without sustaining any fracture, a chair is brought, on which she sits steadying her nerves until the footman, who has run about to repair the accident, has succeeded in recovering the wheel, and replacing it; all the time during the accident the coachman has been holding his dog coursers by the bridle, for fear of their running away. The carriage is repaired, and the monkey marchioness re-enters her carriage, when the whole equipage drives off. In the scene of "The Deserter," as represented below, a dog, dressed as a soldier, is seen walking on his hind legs, and carrying a musket on his shoulder, leading in a monkey, also dressed in uniform, with two large red epaulets. A monkey, dressed as a clergyman, with white bands projecting from his throat, brings in a placarded sentence of condemnation to death, to be shot by his comrades. While a bell is slowly tolling, the master ties a white handkerchief around the head of the culprit, who, as one of the dogs levels a gun at him and then fires it off, drops motionless. A mournful tune is heard, and a monkey, dressed as a grave-digger, in rusty black clothes, wheeling in a black cart, puts the dead monkey into it, and takes him off to perform the burial. The scene is altogether very unique.

Donetti's comic troupe of trained animals

The Early Train to Versailles. A Baboon Passenger

The Anglo American, a Journal of Literature
5(1): 3-5
An older lady tells the improbable story of a baboon taking the morning train to Versailles

The Early Train to Versailles. A Baboon Passenger

Anonymous. 1845. The Early Train to Versailles. A Baboon Passenger. The Anglo American, a Journal of Literature 5(1): 3-5. [An older lady tells the improbable story of a baboon taking the morning train to Versailles]

"Droll people one meets travelling -- strange characters!" was the exclamation of my next neighbour in the Versailles train, as an oddly attired figure, with an enormous beard, and a tall Polish cap, got out at Sevres; and this, of all the rail-roads in Europe, perhaps, presents the most motley array of travellers. The "militaire," the shopkeeper, the actor of a minor theatre, the economist Englishman, residing at Versailles for cheapness, the "modeste," the newspaper writer, are all to be met with, hastening to and from this favourite resort of tho Parisians; and among a people so communicative, and so well disposed to social intercourse, it is rare that even in this short journey the conversation does not take a character of amusement, if not actual interest

"The last time I went down in this train it was in company with M. Thiers; and, I assure you, no one could be more agreeable and affable," said one.

"Horace Vernet was my companion last week," remarked another; "indeed I never guessed who it was, until a chance observation of mine about one of his own pictures, when he avowed his name."

"I had a more singular travelling companion still," exclaimed a third; "no less a personage than Aboul Djerick, the Arab chief, whom the Marshal Bugeaud took prisoner."

"Ma foi! gentlemen," said a dry old lady from the corner of the carriage, "these were not very remarkable characters after all. I remember coming down here with -- what do you think -- for my fellow traveller? Only guess. But it is no use; you would never hit upon it -- he was a baboon!"

"A baboon!" exclaimed all the party, in a breath.

"Sacre bleu! madame, you must be jesting."

"No, gentlemen, nothing of the kind. He was a tall fellow, as big as M. le Capitaine yonder; and he had a tail -- mon Dieu! what a tail. When the conductor showed him into the carriage, it took nearly a minute to adjust that enormous tail"

A very general roar of laughter met this speech, excited probably, more by the serious manner of the old lady as she mentioned this occurrence, than by any thing even in the event itself, though all were unquestionably astonished to account for the incident.

"Was he quiet, Madame?" said one of the passengers.

"Perfectly so," replied she -- "bien poli."

Another little outbreak of laughter at so singular a phrase, with reference to the manners of an ape, disturbed the party.

"He had probably made his escape from the Jardin des Plantes," cried a thin old gentleman opposite.

"No, monsieur; he lived in the Rue St. Denis."

"Diable!" exclaimed a lieutenant; "he was a good citizen of Paris. Was he in the Garde Nationale, madame?"

"I am not sure," said the old lady, with a most provoking coolness.

"And where was he going, may I ask?" cried another.

"To Versailles, monsieur -- poor fellow, he wept very bitterly."

"Detestable beast!" exclaimed the old gentleman, " they make a horrid mockery of humanity."

"Ah! very true, monsieur; there is a strong resemblance between the two species." There was an unlucky applicability in this speech to the hooked nose, yellow-skinned, wrinkled little fellow it was addressed to, that once more brought a smile upon the party.

"Was there no one with him, then? Who took care of him, madame?"

"He was alone, monsieur. The poor fellow was a 'garçon;' he told me so himself."

"Told you so -- the ape told you! -- the baboon said that!" -- exclaimed each in turn of the party, while an outburst of laughter filled the carriage.

"'Tis quite true -- just as I have the honour to tell you," said the old lady, with the utmost gravity; "and although I was as much surprised as you now are, when he first addressed me, he was so well-mannered, spoke such good French, and had so much agreeability, that I forgot my fears, and enjoyed his society very much."

It was not without a great effort that the party controlled themselves sufficiently to hear the old lady's explanation. The very truthfulness of her voice and accent added indescribably to the absurdity; for while she designated her singular companion always as M. le Singe, she spoke of him as if he had been a naturalized Frenchman, born to enjoy all the inestimable privileges of "La Belle France." Her story was this -- but it is better, as far as may be, to give it in her own words: --

"My husband, gentleman, is greffier of the Correctional Court of Paris; and although obliged, during the session, to be every day at the Tribunal, we reside at Versailles for cheapness, using the railroad to bring us to and from Paris. Now, it chanced that I set out from Paris, where I had spent the night at a friend's house, by the early train, which, you know, is at five o'clock. Very few people travelled by that train; indeed, I believe the only use of it is, to go down to Versailles to bring up people from thence. It was a fine cheery morning-cold, but bright -- in the month of March, as I took my place alone in one of the carriages of the train. After the usual delay, (they are never prompt with this train), the word 'en route' was given, and we started; but before the pace was accelerated to a rapid rate, the door was wrenched open by the 'conducteur'-- a large full-grown baboon, with his tail over his arm, stepped in -- the door closed, and away we went. Ah! gentlemen, I never shall forget that moment. The beast sat opposite me, just like monsieur there, with his old parchment face, his round brown eyes, and his long-clawed paws, which he clasped exactly like a human being. Mon Dieu! what agony was mine! I had seen these creatures in the Jardin des Plantes, and know them to be so vicious; but I thought the best thing to do was to cultivate the monster's good graces, and so I put my hand in my reticule and drew forth a morsel of cake, which I presented to him.

"'Merci, madame,' said he, with a polite bow, 'I am not hungry.'

"Ah! when I heard him say this, I thought I should have died. The beast spoke it as plain as I am speaking to you; and he bowed his yellow face, and made a gesture of his hand, if I may call it a hand, just this way. Whether he remarked my astonishment, or perceived that I looked ill, I can't say; but he observed, in a very gentle tone --

"'Madame is fatigued.'

"'Ah! monsieur,' said I, 'I never knew that you spoke French.'

"'Oui parbleu!' said he, 'I was born in the Pyrenees, and am only half a Spaniard.'

"'Monsieur's father, then,' said I -- 'was he a Frenchman?

"'Pauvre bete,' said he; 'he was from the Basque Provinces. He was a wild fellow.'

"'I have no doubt of it,' said I; 'but it seems they caught him at last.'

"'You are right, madame. Strange enough you should have guessed it. He was taken in Estremadura, where he joined a party of brigands. They knew my father by his queue; for, amid all his difficulties, nothing could induce him to cut it off.'

"'I don't wonder,' said I; 'it would have been very painful.'

"'It would have made his heart bleed, madame, to touch a hair of it. He was proud of that old queue; and he might well be -- it was the best-looking tail in the north of Spain.'

"'Bless my heart,' thought I, 'these creatures have their vanities too.'

"'Ah! madame, we had more freedom in those days. My father used to tell me of the nights he has passed on the mountains, under the shade, or some times in the branches of the cork trees, with pleasant companions, fellows of his own stamp, We were not hunted down then, as we are now; there was liberty then.'

"'Well, for my part,' said I, 'I should not dislike the Jardin des Plantes, if I was like one of you. It aint so bad to have one's meals at regular limes, and a comfortable bed, and a good dry house.'

"'I don't know what you mean by the Jardin des Plantes. I live in the Rue St. Denis, and I for one feel the chain about my ankles, under this vile "regime" we live in at present.'

"He had managed to slip it off this time, anyhow; for I saw the creature's legs were free.

"'Ah! madame,' exclaimed Le Singe, slapping his forehead with his paw, men are but rogues, cheats, and swindlers.'

"'Are apes better?' said I, modestly.

"'I protest I think they are,' said he. 'Except a propensity to petty pilfering, they are honest beasts.'

"'They are most affectionate,' said I, wishing to flatter him; but he took no notice of the observation.

"'Madame,' exclaimed he, after a pause and with a voice of unusual energy, 'I was so near being caught in a trap this very morning.'

"'Dear me,' said I; 'and they laid, a trap for you.'

"'An infernal trap,' said he. 'A mistake might have cost me my liberty or life. Do you know M. Laborde, the director of the Gymnase?

"'I have heard of him, but no more.'

"'What a "fripon" he is! There in not such a scoundrel living; but I'll have him yet, let him not think to escape me! Pardon, madame -- does my tail inconvenience you?

"'Not at all, sir. Pray, don't stir.'

"I must say that, in his excitement, the beast whisked the appendage to-and-fro with his paw, in a very furious manner.

"'Only conceive, madame, I have passed the night in the open air; hunted, chased, pursued -- all on account of the accursed M. Laborde. I that was reared in a warm climate -- brought up in every comfort -- and habituated to the most tender care -- exposed, during six hours, to the damp dews of a night in the Bois de Boulogne. I know it will fall on my chest, or I shall have an attack of rheumatism. Ah, mon Dieu! if I shouldn't be able to climb and jump, it would be better for me to be dead.'

"'No, no,' said I, trying to soothe him, 'don't say that. Here am I, very happy and contented, and couldn't spring over a street gutter if you gave me the Tuileries for doing it.'

"'What has that to say to it?' cried he, fiercely. 'Our instincts and pursuits are very different."

"'Yes, thank God,' muttered I below my breath, 'I trust they are.'

"'You live at Versailles," said he, suddenly. 'Do you happen to know Antoine Geoffroy, greffier of the Tribunal?'

"'Yes, parbleu!' said I,'he is my husband'

"'Oh, madame! what good fortune! He is the only man in France can assist me. I want him to catch M. Laborde. When can I see him?

"'He will be down in the ten o'clock train,' said I. 'You can see him then, Rue du Petit Lait.'

"'Ah, but where shall I lie concealed till then? If they should overtake me -- if they found me out, I should be ruined.'

"'Come with me, then. I'll hide you safe enough.'

"The beast fell on its knees, and kissed my hand like a Christian, and muttered his gratitude till we reached the station.

"Early as it was -- only 6 o'clock -- I confess I did not half like the notion of taking the creature's arm, which he offered me, as we got out: but I was so fearful of provoking him, knowing their vindictive nature, that I assented with as good a grace as I was able, and away we went, he holding his tail festooned over his wrist, and carrying my carpet-bag in the other hand. So full was he of his anger against M. Laborde, and his gratitude to me, that he could talk of nothing else as we wont along, nor did he pay the slightest attention to the laughter and jesting our appearance excited from the workmen who passed by.

"'Madame has good taste in a cavalier,' cried one.

"'There'll be a reward for that fellow to-morrow or next day,' cried another.

"'Yes, yes -- he is the biggest in the whole Jardin des Plantes,' said a third.

" Such were the pleasant commentaries that met my ears, even at that quiet hour.

"When we reached the Rue de Petit Lait, however, a very considerable crowd followed us, consisting of labourers and people on their way to work; and I assure you I repented me sorely of the good nature that had exposed me to such consequences; for the mob pressed us closely, many being curious to examine the creature near, and some even going so far as to pat him with their hands, and take up the tip of his tail in their fingers. The beast, however, with admirable tact, never spoke a word, but endured the annoyance without any signs of impatience -- hoping, of course, that the house would soon screen him from their view; but only think of the bad luck. When we arrived at the door, we rung, and rung, again and again, but no one came. In fact, the servant not expecting me home before noon, had spent the night at a friend's house; and there we were, in the open street, with a crowd increasing every moment around us.

"'What is to be done?' said I, in utter despair; but before I had even uttered the words, the beast disengaged himself from me, and, springing to the "jalousies," scrambled his way up to the top of them. In a moment more he was in the window of the second story, and then, again ascending in the same way, reached the third, the mob hailing him with cries of' Bravo Singe! -- well done apo! -- mind your tail, old fellow! -- that's it, monkey!' -- and so on, until with a bound he sprung in through an open window, and then, popping out his head, and with a gesture of little politeness, made by his outstretched fingers on his nose, he cried out -- 'Messieurs j'ai l'honneur de vous saluer.'

"If every beast in the Jardin dea Plantes, from the giraffe down to the chimpanzee, had spoken, the astonishment could not have been more general; at first the mob were struck mute with amazement, but, after a moment, burst forth into a roar of laughter.

"'Ah! I know that fellow -- I have paid twenty sous to see him before now.' --

"'So have I,' said another, 'and it's rare fun to look at him cracking nuts, and swinging himself on the branch of a tree by his tail.'

"At this moment the door opened, and I slipped in without hearing further of the commentaries of the crowd. In a little time the servant returned, and prepared the breakfast; and although, as you may suppose, I was very ignorant what was exactly the kind or entertainment to set before my guest, I got a great dish of apples, and a plate of chesnuts, and down we sat to our meal.

"'That was a ring at the door, I think,' said he, and as he spoke, my husband entered the room.

"'Ah! you here' cried he, addressing M. le Singe, 'Parbleu, there's a pretty work in Paris about you -- it is all over the city this morning that you are off.'

"'And the Director?' said the ape.

"'The old bear, he is off too.'

"'So thought I to myself -- it would appear the other beasts have made their escape too.'

"'Then, I suppose,' said the ape,'there will be no catching him.'

"'I fear not,' said my husband, 'but if they do succeed in overtaking the old fox, they'll have the skin off him.'

"Cruel enough, thought I to myself, considering it was the creature's instinct

"'These, however, are the orders of the Court, and when you have signed this one, I shall set off in pursuit of him at once.' So said my husband, as he produced a roll of papers from his pocket, which the ape perused with the greatest avidity.

"'He'll be for crossing the water, I warrant.'

"'No doubt of it,' said my husband. 'France will be too hot for him for a while.

"'Poor beast,' aaid I, 'he'll be happier in his native snows.'

"At this they both laughed heartily, and the ape signed his name to the papers, and brushed the sand over them with the tip of his tail.

"'We must get back to Paris at once,' said he, 'and in a coach too, for I cannot have a mob after me again.'

"'Leave that to me,' said my husband, 'I'll see you safely home -- meanwhile, let me lend you a cloak and a hat,' and, with these words, he dressed up the creature, so that when the collar was raised you would not have known him from that gentleman opposite.

"'Adieu,' said he, 'madame,' with a wave of his hand, 'au revoir, I hope, if it would give you any pleasure to witness our little performances.'

"'No, no,' said I, 'there's a small creature goes about here, on an organ in a three-cornered cock-hat, and a red coat, and I can have him for half an hour for two sous.'

"'Votre serviteur, madame,' said he, with an angry whisk of his tail; for, although I did not intend it, the beast was annoyed at my remark.

"Away they went, messieurs, and from that hour to this, I never heard more of the creature, nor of his companions, for my husband makes it a rule never to converse on topics relating to his business -- and it seems he was, somehow or other, mixed up in the transaction."

"But, madame," cried one of the passengers, you don't mean to palm this fable on us for reality, and make us believe something more absurd than Aesop himself ever invented!"

"If it be only an impertinent allegory," said the old gentleman opposite. "I must say, it is in the worst possible taste."

"Or if," said a little white-faced fat man, with spectacles, "or if it be a covert attack upon the National Garde of Paris, as the corporal of the 95th legion of the 37th arrondissement, I repel the insinuation with contempt."

"Heaven forbid, gentlemen; the facts I have narrated are strictly true: my husband can confirm them in every particular, and I have only to regret that any trait in the ape's character should suggest uncomfortable recollections to yourselves."

The train had now reached its destination, and the old lady got out, amid the maledictions of some, and the stilled laughter of others of the passengers -- for, only one or two had shrewdness enough to perceive that she was one of those good credulous souls, who implicitly believed all she had narrated, and whose judgment having been shaken by the miraculous power of a railroad, which converted the journey of a day into the trip of an hour, could really have swallowed any other amount of the apparently impossible, it might be her fortune to meet with.

For the benefit of those who may not be as easy of belief as the good Madame Geoffroy, let me add one word as the solution of this mystery. The ape was no other than M. Gouffe, who, being engaged to perform as a monkey, in the afterpiece of "La Perouse" was actually cracking nuts in a tree, when he learned from a conversation in "the flats," that the director, M. Laborde, had just made his escape, with all the funds of the theatre, and six months of M. Gouffe's own salary. Several police officers had already gained access to the back of the stage, and were arresting the actors as they retired. Poor Jocko had nothing for it, then, but to put his agility to the test, and having climbed to the top of the tree, he scrambled in succession over the heads of several scenes, till he reached the back of the stage, where watching his opportunity, he descended in safety, rushed down the stairs, and gained the street. By immense exertions he arrived at the Bois-de Boulogne, where he lay concealed until the starting of the early train for Versailles. The remainder of his adventure the reader already knows

Satisfactory as this explanation may be to some, I confess I should be sorry to make it, if I thought it would reach the eyes or ears of poor Madame Geoffroy, and thus disabuse her of a pleasant illusion, and the harmless gratification of recounting her story to others as unsuspecting as herself.

A Monkey Trick

Spirit of the Times. A Chronicle of Turf, Agriculture, Field Sports, Literature...
19(27): 317
A monkey pulls a prank during a stagecoach trip

A Monkey Trick

Anonymous. 1849. A Monkey Trick. Spirit of the Times. A Chronicle of Turf, Agriculture, Field Sports, Literature... 19(27): 317. [A monkey pulls a prank during a stagecoach trip]

Mr. EDITOR -- I send you the following adventure, which took place during a journey I made between Southampton and London, on my return from the Cape of Good Hope in 1838; and if you deem it worthy of insertion in the "Spirit of the Times," it is at your service.

On my arrival from the "East"on leave of absence, I was landed at Cowes Isle of Wight, and after seeing my baggage passed through the custom house, I took the steamer to Southampton, where I arrived just in time to secure a place by that night's mail to London. I was delighted to find myself the only inside passenger, and having a travelling companion with me, in the shape of a tame monkey, (that I had purchased on my outward bound passage at one of the Cape de Verde Islands, where we anchored to take in a supply of fresh water,) fearful of any objections being made, I smuggled him into the coach by wrapping my cloak about him, and placed it on the seat beside me.

When I first got Jacko, as he was called, he was not much larger than a full grown rat, but he and I by this time had been together for many years, and he was now about the size of a dog. He had become so fond of me that he always fretted,and was unhappy in my absence, and on my return, he would put his paws, or hands, round my neck and embrace me like a human being. To strangers, however, Jacko showed a great dislike, and many is the scrape I have been near getting into from his attacking and biting them severely; after which he would retreat to my arms, and put his foes to defiance by grinning and chattering, and showing fight. Abroad, when I went out shooting, he always accompanied me, and followed me like a dog. It is, therefore, not surprising that I should be so careful of poor Jacko.

I had been busy the previous night, getting my "traps" in readiness to disembark at daylight, and being anxious once more to see the white cliffs of old England after so many years of absence, I never thought of retiring to bed. I was therefore no sooner seated in the coach than I was in the arms of Morpheus -- Jacko, still covered with my cloak, asleep along side of me.

I know not how far we had travelled, when I was roused up by a large, unwieldy old gentleman getting into the coach at one of the places where we changed horses. After he had hung his hat upon the straps at the top of the coach, he wrapped himself up in his great coat, pulled the collar well up, round which he tied a warm comforter, and then drawing his wig down over his ears, leaving only a part of his fat, red face, and small eyes visible, he threw himself back into the opposite corner to me, and soon, by his loud breathing and snoring, gave convincing proof of his having fallen asleep. I quickly followed the good example, and was dreaming of sieges, assaults, and repulses, when I was disturbed, and for a minute or two actually forgot where I was. At length I became conscious of a terrible outcry my fat neighbor was making, and the first words I could make out distinctly were -- "Murder! murder! The devil must be here! Guard! Coachman! coachman! stop the coach and let me out! For God's sake, some one come to my assistance! I am murdered! Stop! stop the mail! Holloa! Guard! Coachman! oh! oh! oh!"

By this time I was wide awake, and supposing he, like myself, was dreaming, I took hold of him by the shoulder, and giving him a hearty shake, demanded, "If he had been attacked by the 'night mare,' he was making such a confounded noise?' He paid no attention to me, but kicking out his feet and knocking away my hand, kept bawling out, "Murder, murder!"

I had now become much annoyed, not knowing what to think. I therefore again caught hold of him, exclaiming--"For God's sake, sir, tell me what has occurred to you? Are you awake or are you mad? I assure you there is no one here in the coach but you and I. Who could, therefore, have touched you? Surely, during my sleep, (for I acknowledge I have been dreaming of assaults,) I have not assaulted you, so as to make you suppose I intended committing murder." But I might as well have held my tongue, for devil a word would he answer or listen to, for he still continued crying out, "Murder! Stop,stop! Guard! Coachman!"

During all this time we had been rattling over a hard, rough, newly macadamized road, which made it difficult for the "stout gentleman's cries" to be heard outside. Now, however, we came to a smoother part, and, amidst much confusion outside, the coach came to a sudden halt. The guard and coachman dismounted, and each seizing hold of one of the lighted lamps, rushed to the coach doors, the former exclaiming--"For shame, gentlemen. There are only two of you, why do you quarrel?" and wrenched open the coach doors.

Having been aroused in such an extraordinary manner from my sleep, and afterwards kept in a continual state of alarm and agitation by the incessant uproar my fat friend was making, I had altogether forgot Jacko; but the instant the lights made "darkness visible," I had no difficulty in comprehending how matters stood; for such a sight met the anxious and frightened gaze of the guard, coachman, and myself, as dispelled all dread of the gentleman's safety, and caused us simultaneously to break forth into a roar of laughter. There the man was sitting, or rather lying, gasping for breath. His once florid, fat face, now pale with horror and apprehension, his eye distended to double their former size, and appearing as if about to start from their sockets, whilst streams of cold perspiration were rolling down the sides of his smooth and glossy head. Head, I say, for his wig had disappeared, and he was as bald as the palm of my hand. -- Just opposite to him sat Jacko with his wig in his clutches, which, in the gravest manner possible, he was trying to set upon his own head, ever and anon grinning and chattering, and apparently anxious to recommence hostilities upon the funny object before him. It was too rich a scene. I laughed until my sides ached, which annoyed the fat passenger more than ever;--for spattering and spitting, he sat bolt upright, bellowing out --

"I'll tell you what it is, sir, don't think to play your practical jokes upon me with impunity. I won't stand it, sir--for if law is to be had in England, sir, for money, I'll have you severely punished, sir, for bringing wild beasts inside one of Her Majesty's mails--that, you may depend upon, sir. As for you two grinning scoundrels," turning to the guard and coachman, who were yet laughing, (he appearing still more ridiculous in a rage without his wig,) the monkey imitating every gesture he made, and ready to fly at him, had I not held it back - "As for you two grinning scoundrels, I'll inform your employers and have you turned away for this shameful and disrespectful conduct towards a passenger, -- that I will! Mind what I say. Depend upon it, I will report you!"

Here, with tears streaming down my cheeks, I attempted to apologize for Jacko's mischievous tricks, but, interrupting me, he cried --

"Tricks! -- mischievous tricks. Sir! Do you call it tricks to pull my wig off my head? bite a piece nearly out of my hand, and then throw my wig in my face? Tricks, indeed! Very pretty tricks! Amusing to you perhaps, but not to ME. If you are as sorry as you say, why do you laugh? Tell me that Sir?

I saw this was not the time to argue with, or explain to, an angry man the few weak points in my monkey's character, therefore remained silent; -- and as he insisted Jacko should ride the remainder of the journey out-side, I was compelled most unwillingly to comply.

Before we came to London, I am happy to say, my fat companion and I became good friends;--and, as sleep was banished from us both, I amused him with many anecdotes of Jacko's pranks on board ship, which made him laugh nearly as heartily as I had done at him a short time before. As he became more communicative, I inquired what the monkey had done to cause him to roar out so lustily. He said:

"Before I fell asleep, it was in the full belief there was no other living creature in the mail but you and I, as I did not perceive your monkey, which lay wrapped in your cloak. I need not tell you, Sir, I am a very loud snorer, and it is more than probable that I may have disturbed Jacko, as you call him, who, perhaps, being anxious to find from whence those unnatural sounds came, crept from under his cover. The first thing I am conscious of, was something alighting with a thumb upon the top of my head, which suddenly awoke me, and, naturally enough, I put my hand up in order to feel what was there, when, to my horror, I came in contact with a hairy monster, which I seized. It set up a fearful scream, and immediately sent its teeth nearly through my hand. The agony I suffered from the pain of the bite was nothing to what I felt in trying to think what it could be that had thus so unceremoniously taken possession ot my hand and head. I pulled my hand down, but the devil, as I now took it to be, by its hind feet, held fast by my wig, and both at length came down together. I was nearly fainting before this from fright, but now a yell got up, and my wig was dashed with force into my face. The monster jumped on my knee, and again bore it away. I became quite frantic with terror, and roared out for the coach to stop, I believe -- but ---- in fact, I cannot remember anything I either said or did during this trying period."

I am, Mr. Editor, your obedient servant,         ALABAMA.

August 4th, 1849.

The Monkey and the Looking Glass

St. Nicholas; an Illustrated Magazine for Young Folks
2(8): 515
A monkey reacts poorly to a mirror

The Monkey and the Looking Glass

Anonymous. 1875. The Monkey and the Looking Glass. St. Nicholas; an Illustrated Magazine for Young Folks 2(8): 515. [A monkey reacts poorly to a mirror]

A lady who knows that Jack likes to tell you true stories about animals, has sent me a letter with permission to show it to all my boys and girls. Here it is:

DEAR JACK: I want to tell you about Jocko, a bright, mischievous little monkey, which my friend, Mrs. G., brought from India. She says: "He liked going to sea, and was a great favorite with the sailors. He would run up the mast and look down with an air of triumph, as much as to say, 'See how much better I can do it than you!' I made him a suit of clothes, little blue trousers, red jacket and a sailor cap. He was delighted with it, and when I went on deck always came to meet me, ready for a frolic. He often played tricks upon the sailors, but never took any libertîes with me. One day, I carried a looking-glass on deck, and called Jocko to come and look in. He was wonderfully pleased to see what he supposed was another monkey. He jabbered at it, and expressed his delight in sundry contortions of his queer little face. Almost all animals are social in their nature, and suffer from loneliness when separated from their kind. At last he stopped his antics, and stretched his arm around the mirror to feel the back of it. The instant he discovered the deception he flew into a terrible passion. He seemed to understand at once that it was no living monkey, and he thought I meant to cheat him. I had to run to save myself from a terrible scratching. He never forgot it, and from that time we ceased to be friends, for monkeys are slow to forgive what they think an insult. Whenever I walked on deck the sailors had to keep him out of sight. I was sewing in my room one day, when he found his way there, and flew at me so furiously that, if my screams had not brought help, I think he would have killed me. Nevertheless, I mourned for Jocko when he died, for I never ceased to hope that we should be friends again in time."          A.E.P.

Newburyport, Mass.

The Orang Outang

New-England Magazine
Dec. 1831, p. 497
An orang outang in Boston, MA writes home to Java

The Orang Outang

Anonymous. 1831. The Orang Outang. New-England Magazine Dec. 1831, p. 497. [An orang outang in Boston, MA writes home to Java]


I TAKE the liberty of sending you a letter written by the celebrated Orang Outang to one of her friends in Java, which may be interesting to your readers, as it contains the result of the inquiries of a vigilant and disinterested observer. You will, I trust, entertain no scruples in regard to the publication of private correspondence, when you remember how common the practice has become, and how much it tends to enlighten the public on subjects which they are naturally curious to know. Should any one be disposed to question the genuineness of the letter, the original shall be deposited with you for the public benefit; and the first inspection of the chirography will convince the most sceptical, that it is really and truly the production of an Orang Outang.

Your obedient servant,

Boston, November 10th, 1831.

I know not, my dear Jocko, that I should have been tempted to break the silence, which wonder and sorrow impose upon me in this strange land, were it not for the foul slanders which are daily heaped upon me by those, who regard themselves as paragons of all that is polite and hospitable. It is but a few days since I read in the New-England Magazine, a publication, which, however attractive it may be in the eyes of men, has little in it that can gratify the taste of an Orang Outang, the pitiful speculations of some ignorant New-York Doctor upon my conformation and personal habits; but I know not whether any thing better was to have been expected from a member of a profession, of the state of which, in this country, a single anecdote will convince you. On my voyage hither, feeling slightly indisposed, I had recourse to what was universally called the chest of medicine; and what was my astonishment on learning, by melancholy experience, as I did within an hour afterwards, that I had taken poison, and that my life was in imminent danger! You will readily judge of the state of intelligence among a race, where poisons are used as panaceas, and where the same prescriptions are employed to preserve and to extinguish life. Protect me from such nurses! Better, far better, to fall headlong from the top-most branches of the teak-tree, better to be shot by the poisoned arrows of Macassar, than to place life and limb at the mercy of these infatuated pretenders!

Indeed, my friend, whatever difference there may be between the Simian and Caucasian races, it is decidedly in favor of the former; and nothing, I am convinced, but the habitual arrogance of man, prevents him from acquiescing in the same conclusion; it is, in fact, impossible, on the principles of his own philosophy, to adopt any other. The moralist, the punicious doctor, and the philosopher, are perpetually calling upon men to follow nature; while their whole lives are spent in a continual effort to counteract and defy her. They regard themselves as compounded of body and soul, and are always talking of the latter, as by far their noblest part; but this I consider as a vain pretension; for it is wholly inconceivable, supposing this to be the fact, that every thought and effort should be engrossed by the care of the body, while the soul is treated with so little ceremony, that they have nothing, but what they call their own inward consciousness, to vouch for its existence; a sort of testimony, which, however satisfactory it may be to them, is not particularly convincing to a by-stander. We are told alike by reason and philosophy, that our wants should be few; but this strangely consistent people have discovered, that the true secret of happiness consists in multiplying them; and this they do, regularly and systematically, as if it were the chief end of their being. On this principle, you will perceive, that nothing is easier than to be happy; a famine would place them on the very pinnacle of felicity. But I ask you, my friend, whether a doctrine like this would not, at once, be rejected by the Orang Outang, who might chance to be philosophizing upon a nut a day? They pretend, however, to reconcile it with common sense, by insisting, that the more our wants increase, the more rapidly will the means of gratifying them increase also; but here is another inconsistency; for there are no greater foes to luxury, than these very moralists and philosophers, of whom I have just told you. Now take a single specimen of the two races, and see which bears himself with the most philosophical dignity. The Orang Outang partakes sparingly of the fruits most liberally dispensed to him by the influences of a delightful climate, and the perpetual vegetation of the tropics, without so much as thinking of a bird's nest; while the more ambitious biped cannot make a single meal without some exhibition of his cannibal propensities, or quench his thirst by any liquid which is not debased by some intoxicating element. In the morning, he collects around him the luxuries, as he calls them, of the Indies, both East and West; and, at noon, he demolishes some other animal as good as he, to satiate his raging appetite, and washes it down with the liquors of every foreign country.

There is another point, on which these people are very apt to pique themselves. They call it the gift of speech; forgetting, in their vainglory, that the same gift is enjoyed in high perfection by the parrot, and the cockatoo. Nay, I am credibly informed, that one of their own carpenters has actually made a creature, which plays chess, and converses with all the freedom which that game requires, as well as any human being of them all. What sort of a gift is that, which they can manufacture for themselves? Yet even in talking of the gift of talking, they are forever contradicting the maxims of their own philosophy. This blessing, if it be indeed a blessing, would seem to be held in very light esteem, by the manner in which they abuse it. When two men fall to quarreling, they forthwith begin to swear, and utter volleys of abuse, which it is very painful to an Orang Outang to hear; and it is only after their breath is fairly gone, that they proceed to fight in the common and only rational way. It is, however, in vilifying their friends and neighbors, that this same blessing becomes an instrument of the most potent efficacy. Now, in the name of all the nuts of Borneo, why are not the grimaces and the chatter of a monkey quite as useful for all these purposes, as the boasted faculty of speech? Silence, say their philosophers, is a virtue; then how superior in moral dignity is the Orang Outang, who practises this virtue on principle, and on all occasions, to the man or woman who would rather die out-right than hold his or her tongue for half an hour! I have recently heard of a woman, who cut off her tongue with a razor, by way of punishing it for its manifold sins, as well as to prevent, in the most summary way, any obliquities of the kind for the future; but, in my judgement, it is far more eligible, to be formed originally without any implement of the sort, than to be compelled to extract it, in order to conduct one's self with tolerable propriety.

I will not, however, pursue this topic farther; as I am sensible that the results of my observation here must be more interesting to you, than any general speculations, however important they may be. Suffer me simply to add, if any thing be wanting to convince you of the comparative superiority of our race, that the human intellect has so little expansion, as to estimate every thing, by comparing it with its own standard. I tremble with indignation while I write it -- these soul-and-body, want-multiplying, eternally talking people, have the impudence to call me ugly! Me -- the acknowledged beauty of the forests of Java -- in pursuit of whom hundreds were once ready to fly from tree to tree, and to whom the earliest fruit of the season was but a poor and unregarded homage! To you, who know what eyes of love and admiration were once cast upon me, how many double rows of teeth were formerly expanded with delight at my approach, I can expose the secret sorrows of my too sensitive heart. When I remember what beauty is, and compare it with what these people call beauty, I ought perhaps to disregard these suggestions of arrogance and folly; but to be despised as a miracle of deformity by those whose lives are spent in earnest but by no means unsuccessful efforts to deform themselves, is almost too much for an Orang Outang to bear.

If you could walk with me into Washington-street, a narrow passage through the chaos of brick and stone, which these people call a city, on a Sunday morning, you would soon ascertain what their notions of beauty are. Hundreds of women, some with huge piles of straw, others with vast erections of silk and flowers on their heads, are moving by you with the rapidity of lightning. Their robes, or gowns -- how can I describe them, but by telling you that their owners resemble the Bird of Paradise? On their arms, they wear what they call sleeves, articles of which your fancy would be inadequate to form the least conception. Their feet are covered with a box, which they call a shoe. Add to these, rows of white teeth, cheeks of clear red and white, and eyes which seem to pierce you through and through, and you have some idea of what the human race call beauty. "Out upon the barbarians"! -- I think I hear you exclaim -- "can creatures tricked out in this way pretend to climb a tree?" In the first place, my dear, there are very few trees here to climb; and the names of romp and hoyden would be the mildest terms of reproach applied to one, who should attempt such an exhibition, or whose habits should bear in any respect the least affinity to ours. When you think of the unadorned beauty of our own race, of their small but alluring eyes, their complexion like the mild obscurity of some overhanging cloud, their graceful movements, and light and agile limb, you laugh at their strange transformations; but you will learn to regard them rather with pity, when I tell you, that they are to be attributed solely to the influence of an invisible, but all-controling power, whom they call Fashion, and worship with the most sincere and persevering devotion. Wonders have been related to me of the influence of this extraordinary deity. It is, in fact, wholly in compliance with her injunctions, that the dazzling array of partycolored garments, you every where witness, is exhibited in the streets; but let her once read the charm backwards, and these bonnets and robes contract in an instant, like what the sailors of our vessel called a double-reefed topsail, while the sleeves collapse, at once, like a rent balloon. Happy Orang Outangs, who are misled by no such strange and fatal theism! Happy, that they can survey the grand and beautiful in nature without a bonnet or a veil, penetrate the wildest thicket without perdition to shawls and pelisses, and ascend the tree without the ridiculous claw-hiding incumbrances of stockings and shoes! And yet, I know not how it is, notwithstanding the many absurdities of my human female friends, one does in time get somewhat reconciled to their appearance. One of their bishops, I am told, who visited countries near to ours, pronounced the olive-colored race, the most agreeable of all to the eye; but I cannot help thinking, if he had extended his observation farther, he would have come to the conclusion, that a deep brown, combined with a proper infusion of slate color, was the beau ideal of feminine complexion.

Adieu. The fatigue of writing is too great, to allow me to tell you more of this strange race at present. Remember me, my friend, as truly and affectionately, yours.

The Adventurous Boy

Atkinson's Casket
April 1834, No. 4, p. 184-185
A monkey leads a boy to climb a ship's rigging

The Adventurous Boy

Anonymous. 1834. The Adventurous Boy. Atkinson's Casket April 1834, No. 4, p. 184-185. [A monkey leads a boy to climb a ship's rigging]

While the fleet lay at anchor, one of the most heart-thrilling scenes occurred on board the Commodore's vessel, that my eyes ever witnessed. In addition to the usual appendages of a ship of war, there was a large and mischievous monkey on board, named Jocko, retained for the amusement and diversion of the ship's company. It was my watch on deck; and having retired to the side of the vessel, I was musing on the beautiful appearance of the fleet, when a loud and merry laugh burst upon my ear.

On turning to ascertain the cause of such an unusual sound on the frigate's deck, I perceived the Commodore's little son, whom the crew nicknamed "little Bob Stay," standing half way up the main hatch-ladder, clapping his hands, and looking aloft upon some object that inspired him with a deal of glee. A single glance explained the occasion of the merriment. As Bob was coming up from the gun deck. Jocko, the monkey, perceiving him on the ladder, and dropping suddenly from the rigging, leaped upon his shoulder, seized his cap, and running up the main-top-sail-sheet, seated himself on the main-yard.

Here he sat picking the tassel of his prize to pieces, occasionally scratching his sides, and chattering as if in exultation for the success of his mischief. Bob being a sprightly, active fellow, did not like to lose his cap without an effort to regain it. Perhaps he was the more strongly incited to make the chase after Jocko, from observing me smile at his plight, and hearing the loud laugh of Cato, a black man, who seemed inexpressibly delighted at the occurrence.

"Ha, you rascal, Jocko," said the black man, "hab you no respec for de young officer, den to steal his cap? We bring you to de gang-way, you black nigger, and gib you a dozen on de bare back, for a tief." The monkey looked down from his perch, as if he understood the threat of the negro, and chattered a sort of defiance in answer. "Ha, ha, Massa Bob, he say you mus' ketch him, 'fore you flog him; and 'tis no easy matter for midshipman in boots to ketch a monkey barefoot."

The cheeks of little Bob looked red, as he cast a glance of offended pride at Cato; and, springing across the deck, in a moment he was half way up the rigging. The monkey quietly watched his motions, and, when nearly up, suddenly put the cap on his own head, and ascended to the top cross-trees, and quietly seating himself, resumed his work of picking the tassel.

In this manner, the mischievous animal succeeded in enticing Bob as high as the royal-masthead, when suddenly springing on the rigging, he again descended to the fore-top, and running out on the fore-yard, hung the cap on the end of the studding-sail-boom, where, taking his seat, he raised a loud and exulting chattering. By this time Bob was completely exhausted; and not liking to return to the deck to be laughed at, he sat down on the cross-trees.

The spectators, presuming that the boy would not follow the monkey, but descend to the deck, paid no further attention to them. I also had turned away, and had been engaged some minutes, when I was suddenly started by a cry from Cato, exclaiming that "Massa Bob was on the main-truck!" A cold shudder ran through my veins, as the word reached my ears; I cast my eyes up -- it was too true.

The adventurous boy, after having rested a little, had climbed the sky-sail pole, and the moment of my looking up, was actually standing on that circular piece of wood, on the very summit of the loftiest mast, at a height so great that my brain turned dizzv as I looked up at him. There was nothing above him, or around him, but empty space; and beneath him nothing but a small unstable wheel.

Dreadful temerity! If he had attempted to stoop, what could he take hold of to steady his motion! His feet covered up the small and fearful platform on which he stood; and beneath that, a long smooth pole that seemed to bend beneath his weight, was all that upheld him from destruction. In endeavouring to get down, he would enevitably lose his balance, and be precipitated to the deck, a crushed and shapeless mass.

In this terrible exigency, what was to be done? To hail him, and inform him of his danger, it was thought, would ensure his ruin. Every moment I expected to see the dreadful catastrophe. I could not bear to look at him; and yet could not withdraw my gaze. A film came over my eyes, and a faintness over my heart. By this time the deck was covered with officers and crew, to witness this appalling, this heart-rending spectacle. All seemed mute. Every feeling, every faculty, seemed absorbed in one deep, intense emotion of agony.

At this moment, a stir was made among the crew about the gangway, when the Commodore, the boy's father, made his appearance. He had come on board without being noticed by a single eye. The Commodore asked not a question, uttered not a syllable. He was an austere man; and it was thought by some that he had not a very strong affection for his son. All eyes were now fixed on him, endeavoring to read his emotion in his countenance.

The scrutiny, however, was vain -- his eyes retained its severe expression; his brow the slight frown it usually wore; and his lip its haughty curl. In short, no outward sign indicated what was passing within. Immediately on reaching the deck, he ordered a marine to hand a musket; when, stepping aft, and leaping upon the look out block, he raised it to his shoulder, and took a deliberate aim at his son, at the same time hailing him with his trumpet, in a voice of thunder.

"Robert," cried he "jump! jump overboard -- or I'll fire at you!" The boy seemed to hesitate, and it was plain that he was tottering; for his arms were thrown about like one endeavoring to balance himself. The Commodore raised his voice again, and in a quicker and more energetic tone, cried -- "Jump! 'tis your only chance for life!" The words were scarcely out of his mouth, before he left the truck, and sprung out into the air. A sound between a shriek and a groan burst from many lips.

The father spoke not - sighed not; indeed, he seemed not to breathe. For a moment of intense agony, a pin might have been heard to have dropped on the deck. With a rush like that of a cannon ball the body descended to the water; and before the waves closed over it twenty stout fellows, among them several officers had dived from the bulwark. Another short period of suspense ensued. The body rose! he was alive! His arm was seen to move -- he struck out towards the ship.

In spite of the discipline of a man-of-war, three huzzas, the outburst of unfeigned joy from the hearts of five hundred men, pealed through the air, and made the welkin ring. Till this moment, the old Commodore had stood unmoved. His face was now ashy pale. He attempted to descend from the block, but his knees bent under him; he seemed to gasp for breath, and attempted to tear open his vest; but in the attempt he staggered, and would have fallen, had he not been caught by the bystanders.

He was borne to his cabin, where the surgeon attended him, whose utmost skill was required to restore his mind to its usual equilibrity and self-command, in which he at last happily succeeded. As soon as he recovered from the dreadful shock, he sent for Bob, and had a long confidential conference with him; and it was noticed, when the little fellow left the cabin, he was in tears.

Monkeys Go Crabbing

Christian Advocate
75(24): 968
Monkeys capturing crabs in Singapore

Monkeys Go Crabbing

Anonymous. 1900. Monkeys Go Crabbing. Christian Advocate 75(24): 968. [Monkeys capturing crabs in Singapore]

"Most monkeys have a liking for land crabs, and the beasts, when in their natural element in the jungle will often travel for miles to some marshy region in search of a crustacean meal," said a dealer in all sorts of wild animals to a "Washington Star" writer. "Some years ago, when I was in Singapore trading with the natives for monkeys, I was one day greatly amused to see the artful methods practiced by jocko to trap crabs. The monkey, having located the hereabouts of the crabs, lies flat down on his stomach, feigning death. Presently from the countless passages piercing the mud in every direction thousands of little red and yellow crabs make their appearance, and after suspiciously eyeing for a few minutes the brown fur of the monkey they slowly and cautiously slide up to him, in great glee at the prospect of a big feed off the bones of Master Jocko.

"The latter now peeps through his half-closed eyelids and fixes upon the biggest of the assembled multitude. When the crab comes within reach out dashes the monkey's arm, and off he scampers into the jungle, with a cry of delight, to discuss at leisure his cleverly earned dinner.

Rarely did the monkeys seem to miss their prey. I saw, however, an old fellow do so, and it was ludicrous in the extreme to see the rage it put him in. Jumping for fully a minute up and down on all fours at the mouth of the hole into which the crab had escaped, he positively howled with vexation. Then he set to work poking the mud about with his fingers at the entrance to the passage, fruitlessly trying now and again to peep into it."

Extracts from the Life and Death of My Monkey Jacko

The Albion. A Journal of News, Politics, and Literature
13(10): 4
Train fare for a dog must be paid for a monkey!

Extracts from the Life and Death of My Monkey Jacko

Anonymous. 1854. Extracts from the Life and Death of My Monkey Jacko. The Albion. A Journal of News, Politics, and Literature 13(10): 4. [Train fare for a dog must be paid for a monkey!]

In tne bag aforesaid. he travelled as far as Southampton on his road to town. While taking the ticket at the railway station. Jacko, who must needs see everything that was going on suddenly poked his head out of the bag, and gave a malicious grin at the ticket giver. This much frightened the poor man. but with great presence of mind, quite astonishing under the circumstances, he retaliated the insult. "Sir. that's a dog. You must pay for it accordingly." In vain was the monkey made to come out of the bag. and exhibit his whole person, in vain were arguments in full accordance with the views of Cuvier and Owen urged eagerly, vehemently, and without hesitation (for the tram was on the point of starting), to prove that the animal in question was not a dog, but a monkey. A dog it was in the peculiar views of the official, and the three-and-sixpence was paid. Thinking to carry the joke further (there were just a few minutes to spare), I took out from my pockets a live tortoise I happened to have with me. and showing it. said. "What must I pay for this, as you charge for all animals?" The employé adjusted his specs, withdrew from the desk to commit with his superior; then returning, gave the verdict, withal grave but determined manner, "No charge for them sir, them be Insects."

When sitting on the rack of the manger he had one peculiar amusement, and that was catching mice. These unsuspecting little animals would come out to pick up the corn left by the horses in the next stall. To get at their feeding ground, they had to run the gaunlet [sic] of Jacko's premises. He was up to this, and would pretend to be asleep, keeping, however, one eye half open. The trick answered, the mouse made a rush -- in vain; Jacko, as quick as lightning, had his paw upon him, and with a tight squeeze crippled the poor little brute; he would then play with him for some minutes, every now and then giving him a pat to make him crawl faster. When the poor victim thought he had got away, Jacko caught him again, made a complete search through his hair for parasites, and then, oh, carnivorous representative of the class Quadrumana, eat him up (as a child described it to me) like a sugar plum. The fun over, he would again assume his manoeuvres and catch another member of the murine family, to be treated in a similar way as the last unfortunate. In this way I have known him catch as many as seven or eight mice in one afternoon.

Some few days after this, Jacko. having been reinstated in favour, was warming himself before the kitchen fire; a cricket that had been singing merrily in the ashes, came a little too far out on the hearthstone; his fate was sealed -- the next jump he made was down the throat of Jacko, who munched him up as an epicure does the leg of a woodcock. The next tit¬bit was a black beetle, who ran out to secure a crumb, spilt from the servants' supper table. He, too, became a victim to his rashness, and not he alone, but many of his black friends and relatives, who incautiously exposed themselves before the candles were put out. Having ascertained that these beetles were nuts to Jacko, I one day gave him a great treat by upsetting the kitchen beetle-trap in his presence -- both paws instantly went to work -- whole bunches of the unfortunate insects he crammed into his pouches, which he, like most other monkeys, had on each side of his mouth, and which serve as pockets, munching away as hard as he could at the same time. His paws could not catch his prey fast enough, so he set his feet to work, and grasped with them as many as he could hold. This was not enough. He swept a lot together with his tail, and coiling it up closely, kept them there close prisoners till his mouth was a little empty, and he had time to catch and devour them. This was really too greedy. I took him away from the feast, still however, munching with all his might, and looking back at the box with wishful eyes. If we wanted at any future period to make him in a good humour, his flagging spirits were instantly roused by the sight of the bettle-trap. [sic]

His insectivorous propensities were not confined to this class alone.

Spiders formed a pleasant variety; not a spider was left alive either in the stable or outside the stable where he was confined, and most enormous stones would he pick out of this wall with his little fingers, in search of a run-away web spinner. He was really of great use in clearing the house of this housemaid's pest. I often used to put a bit of string to the end of his chain, and make him run up the curtains of the rooms of the house. He would then completely rummage out and devour every spider, who having frequently had their webs so frequently knocked down by the relentless broom, had thought to spin them in security on the top of the cornices and among the curtain rods.

The Vindictive Monkey

Parley's Magazine
Jan. 1, 1836, p. 166-167
A monkey obtains revenge on a man painting as ship who put paint in his mouth

The Vindictive Monkey

Anonymous. 1837. The Vindictive Monkey. Parley's Magazine Jan. 1, 1836, p. 166-167 [A monkey obtains revenge on a man painting as ship who put paint in his mouth]

[THOSE who are determined to wreak their revenge on persons who injure or ill treat them, will do well to remember what animal they resemble when they do so! Will rational beings be willing to act like the brute monkey?]

A painter was once busily employed in decorating, with fancy colors, some carved work on the stern of a French brig which lay in the harbor of Marseilles -- and had a stage suspended for that purpose. A monkey which belonged to the captain of an American vessel, moored almost in contact with the stern of the brig, appeared much interested in the progress of the decorations, and watched the artist very closely -- and occasionally as if he wished to criticise or ridicule the performance, he would grin and chatter most furiously.

The painter, although at first amused, soon became indignant at the insolent bearing of the monkey, and while Jacko was in the midst of a critical dissertation, and appeared hugely tickled at being able to discompose the nerves of the artist, the latter thrust his largest brush, well charged with a beautiful verdigris green, full in the mouth of the chattering quadruped.

Jacko retreated to his habitation, exhibiting manifest signs of wrath and indignation. The captain of the vessel, who was well acquainted with the character of the monkey, who would never suffer a trick to be played upon him, without retorting in kind, advised the painter to be particularly cautious, or the monkey would do him some injury.

The painter, however, laughed at the idea -- and soon after left his work, and entered a coffee house on the quay, where in drinking a cup of coffee, and in conversation with some friends, he passed half an hour.

In his absence the monkey left his retreat -- and passed through a port on to the painter's stage, where all his pots, brushes, &c, were deposited. He commenced an attack on the ropes which held the stage -- and employed his time so well that, before the painter appeared, two of them were nearly severed -- and when the unsuspecting artist placed his foot on the stage for the purpose of resuming his work, the ropes broke, and painter, pots, paints, and brushes, were precipitated without ceremony into the dock.

Then commenced the triumph of the monkey, who sprang to the gunwale, and while gazing on his floundering foe, he evinced his delight by his gesticulations and his loud chatterings!

The artist was fished out, but his paints, of course were lost, and his clothes were saturated with the briny fluid. His rage was unbounded. As soon as he was safely landed, he seized a club, and rushed on board the vessel, threatening vengeance on the monkey, which he undoubtedly would have killed on the spot, had not Jacko wisely retreated to the main topmast cross trees, where he sat, looking down triumphantly on his enemy, who was pacing the deck, uttering imprecations innumerable.

The painter then proceeded to his house, and returned with his fowling piece well charged with buck shot, determined to bring Jacko down, by fair means or foul -- but the captain, seeing the danger which was about to befal his mischievous favorite, appeased the anger of the painter by offering to pay him for the loss of his materials, and the damage to his clothes. A treaty was concluded -- but Jacko could not easily be convinced of the sincerity of the opposite party, and fearing some mishap, maintained his position on the cross trees for several days.

An Art Loving Monkey. How Its Passion for the Fine Arts Brought it to Destruction.

The National Police Gazette
33(55): 3
An author's monkey drives his artist neighbour to distraction, leading to violence

An Art Loving Monkey
How Its Passion for the Fine Arts Brought it to Destruction

Anonymous. 1878. An Art Loving Monkey. How Its Passion for the Fine Arts Brought it to Destruction. The National Police Gazette 33(55): 3. [An author's monkey drives his artist neighbour to distraction, leading to violence]

Victor Chifflard is a painter of animals in Paris. Adam Savart is a literary man of the melo-dramatic order. He occupied a room directly above Chifflard in the Rue de la Seine.

Now, M. Chifflard, in the interest of his art, had converted his apartments into a stable, where a pugnacious ram, an odoriferous billy-goat, several piglings, dogs, cats and fowl lived in amity, and were rendered immortal on canvas. The fact that their presenoe did not conduce to the purity of the atmosphere was no concern of the neighbors as long as M. Chifflard was satisfied. They (the neighbors, that is) had, however, a reasonable right to object to being butted down-stairs by the goat and ram, who were constantly escaping into the hall and performing that, to them, natural feat upon the first passer-by.

Among the victims was Adam Savart. In fact, he was a plural sufferer, and at last procured an order from the police to compel M. Chifflard to restrain the ardor of his pets, or at least restrict their field of aggression to his own rooms. Then M, Chifflard grow to hate Savart with a fierce and deadly hatred.

Some time ago a paper which owed M. Savart for a novel foundered. Chief among the few assets left floating after the wreck was an ape that had belonged to the publisher. As nobody else wanted him M. Savart led him home at the end of a chain and fastened him to his window sill, where he could amuse himself by admiring the prospect.

One day Jocko discovered that by swinging at the length of his chain he could look in at M. Chifflard's window. The sight he beheld interested him, and he expressed his approbation by grinning and chattering his teeth as he


There was a Greek painter of the classical era who regarded it as monstrous compliment that birds and beasts came to admire themselves in the reflected glory of his glowing canvas. M. Chifflard was no Apollo, however. Consequently he despised Jocko's outspoken admiration, and drove him away. But he returned. He came day after day, and as the artist labored at his easel the fantastic shadow of his Simian admirer flitted to and fro before him.

The brute became a nightmare to him. He felt that it was coming before it came, and an electric chill froze his blood, Jocko's characteristic expressions of admiration were to him the mopings and mawings of a fiend. As the ape pendulated gracefully before his window, the wretched artist could not help thinking that he had discovered the missing link between himself and hell.

Then it suddenly occurred to him that this demoniac persecution was the work of his neighbor on the floor above. Chifflard detested Savart, who must, therefore detest him. The monkey belonged to Savart. He had trained it to its unhallowed work. Aha! Even so! Then blood, and blood alone, could absolve the crime!

Savart laughed at his challenge, however. He had no idea of his monkey's misdirected love of art, and could not comprehend why he should assassinate or be assassinated by his neighbor. Unable to wreak his vengeance on the master, Chifflard


He cut the monkey's throat with a palette knife, and his master hauled him up to his perch one evening stark and dead.

Then the floodgates of the Bohemian's wrath were opened wide. He was a man of action, like the heroes of his pyrotechnic romances. With the corpse of the murdered Jocko in his arms, he boldly forced an entrance into the tiger's air.

The combat which ensued was a mixed one, participated in by the goat, the ram, the dog and the cats, while the squeaks of the piglings and the clatter of the fowls encouraged the combatants. When peace settled on the scene, and the dun cloud of battle lifted, it revealed a chaos. Chifflard was stretched senseless, beaten black and blue with the body of the ape, which had been reduced by the operation to a mere shapeless bag of skin inclosing an indescribable compound jelly of meat and bone. Savart had lost as much flesh as the dog had gained. In their blind enthusiasm the ram and the goat had battered one another's brains out. The cats had devoured the fowl, and been in turn killed by the dog, who entertained a family dislike for them. All that was left of the menagerie was the half of a pigling which Ponto had not yet tucked away.

Yet the police court was unfeeling enough to laugh at the tragedy, and recommend the two principals to make it all up, and become friends!

Anonymous [A.B.C.]

The Youth's Companion
45(27): 217
Young children meet a poor organ grinder, his daughter and monkey


Anonymous [A.B.C.]. 1872. Jocko. The Youth's Companion 45(27): 217. [Young children meet a poor organ grinder, his daughter and monkey]

One warm spring morning I sat by the bay window. Little Gracie sat in her little rocking-chair singing her dollie to sleep, and Fred was down on the floor getting his locomotive, with a long train of cars behind it, into motion.

Dolls and cars were thrown aside when a hand-organ struck up under the window. A man turned tbe handle of the organ, and a girl jingled a tambourine; and what pleased the children most of all, there was a little monkey dressed like a sailor, that danced and frisked about in the most comical way you can imagine. Gracie was in an ecstasy of delight, and Fred stood by the window and laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks, the monkey's pranks were so fanny.

All at once the monkey pranced into my lap. It frightened Gracie, but when I stroked his head and said, "Poor little fellow! how tired he is!" she ventured to come a little nearer, and then stood on tiptoe to see him better; finally, she put the tip of one finger on his head, and finding he didn't hurt her, she put on two, and at length the whole of her chubby little hand.

Poor Jocko must have been very tired, for he cuddled himself down in my lap and went fast asleep, as if sure he was among friends.

I sent Fred to the kitchen to get some ginger¬bread and a few pennies.

The little girl with the tambourine stood with her eyes down, and a sad, sad look on her face. I wondered if, when she saw how clean little Gracie's white dress was, and what a good home she had, her heart didn't ache because she had no home, and no mother to take nice care of her. When she saw the monkey in my lap she smiled. Her face was very dark, but the smile made her look really pretty, her white teeth glistening and her black eyes sparkling.

I thought she too must be tired, and asked her to sit down in a chair on the piazza; but she shook her head as if she didn't understand. When Fred came with a plate of gingerbread and cookies, her black eyes sparkled again; she knew what that meant.

Fred carried her the plate and she ate as if she were really half starred.

I tried to make Gracie carry the pennies to the man, but she held back and dung to ray dress, because she was afraid. Fred wasn't afraid, and look them to him, and he nodded his head and played more lively tunes than ever; and the girl shook her bells merrily, and looked bright and smiling.

When Jocko woke I gave him some ginger-bread. Gracie saw he liked it, and she fed him too, till between the girl and Jocko there were no more cookies or gingerbread left

But I think Fred and Gracie liked better to see them eat it than to have it themselves -- the poor things were so hungry.

By-and-by the man shut up his organ and covered it with the green cloth, and swung it on his back, and pulled the long string which held the monkey, and the monkey jumped up on his shoulder; the man made a bow and the girl a courtesy [sic], and they all walked down the yard and out of the gate, and we saw them no more.

But Fred and Gracie often talk about them, and I think at least five hundred times Gracie has said, -

"Mamma, where is the monkey dorn?" and five hundred times I have answered, -

"I don't know, my dear."

"Won't he come and seep in oor lap, mamma?"

"I don't think he will, dear."

And then she sings her dollie to sleep by telling her, "Monkey's all dorn, dorn, dorn. He won't tum back, he won't tum back. He's dorn, dorn, dorn."

A Monkey Murderer

The National Police Gazette
41(276): 7
An abusive husband is killed by his pet monkey

A Monkey Murderer

Anonymous. 1883. A Monkey Murderer. The National Police Gazette 41(276): 7. [An abusive husband is killed by his pet monkey]

An organ grinder named Pietri, residing in a wretched garret in Baxter street, New York, was the victim of most remarkable retributive Justice on Dec 20. He was in the habit of brutally abusing his wife when he was in his cups, and during these scenes of violence the favorite monkey used to be an interested spectator of the scene of violence, from a safe corner of observation. On the night of the 20th while Pietri was lying in bed in a drunken slumber, the monkey utilized his observations and after the imitative style of Jocko, undertook to act out on his own account the scene of brutality he had witnessed so often. Arming himself with a bottle, the monkey rushed to the bedside and shivered the weapon on the head of the sleeping man, who was injured so badly that his life is despaired of. Poor Jocko escaped through the window when the other Italian tenants of the house went for him, and has remained for a fortnight an outlaw and a highwayman of the roofs, disputing the sovereignity with vagrant cats.

How a faithful and imitative Jocko avenged his mistress by nearly killing her husband, in New York

Monkey Stories

The Albion. A Journal of News, Politics and Literature
53(42): 7
Monkeys' adventures at sea

Monkey Stories

Anonymous. 1875. Monkey Stories. The Albion. A Journal of News, Politics and Literature 53(42): 7. [Monkeys' adventures at sea]

On board her Majesty's ship Euryalus there was a large black monkey with a long tail for whom the master had a particular aversion; he was convinced that it would some day get at and injure the chronometer of which he was in charge, and he always kept his room fast locked. One day, however, the monkey crept in, carried off the chronometer, and rushed up the rigging with it in his hand, the poor master following with the tears in his eyes, while all the sailors in the ship were set to try and catch the thief. Higher and higher they climbed, but still the monkey kept above them, and when they were within an inch of him he dropped from one part of the rigging to another, with only a glancing hold on the ropes, where nothing but a four-armed beast with a prehensile tail could follow. At last one active fellow climbed closer and closer, there was no outlet right or left, above or below, his hand was almost seizing the creature's leg when suddenly the beast, seeing he was brought to bay, waved the chromemeter viciously over his head, raised his arm as high as possible, and then flung it as far as he could into the sea. A monkey on board another Queen's ship fell overbo[a]rd in very bad weather; the sea was so high that the Captain refused to allow a boat to be lowered; but the feeling of the sailors for their pet was so great that at last he gave way. They rowed round and round in vain, and were returning sadly up the ship's side, when they saw the monkey, who had clim[b]ed up by the chain of the rudder, mocking and grinning at them for their useless pains as he sat on the figure head. Another monkey, one Jocko, on board the ----, much petted by the sailors, was excessively jealous of a white kitten, which divided their affections with himself. One day the man on the bridge saw him creeping very stealthily round to where the kitten lay asleep in the netting; suddenly he stretched out his hand and chucked her overboard before any one could interfere. "Jocko," said the narrator angrily, "was an abominable beast. I could not bear him, he used to get drunk and play underhand tricks; still he was not altogether bad. A spaniel on board had had puppies, with which Jocko was extremely anxious to play; the mother, however, would have nothing to say to him, and would not allow him to enter her den. One day, however, she had left her children alone for a moment, and coming back found Jocko sitting nursing all the puppies together in his arms, great, fat, heavy, lumbering lumps which he could hardly lift." After this proof of good intention, the dog-mother used to take her walk about the ship, contentedly leaving her children in his charge, Jocko seeming to consider himself regularly installed as nurse.

A Monkey Fireman

The Youth's Companion
66(10): iii
A monkey puts out a fire in his cage

A Monkey Fireman

Anonymous. 1856. A Monkey Fireman. The Youth's Companion 66(10): iii. [A monkey puts out a fire in his cage]

The New York Sun says that at Fort Hamilton, near that city, in a cage with a monkey of light complexion and a little skye terrier, a small black monkey resides which has given proof of a high degree of intelligence. Their cage is near the electric railroad station, where many people wait; and as the animals are full of tricks and queer ways, they always have a large audience. The black monkey is the centre of interest as he skips nimbly about or sits down and chatters volubly in the monkey language.

One day recently the black monkey was more than ordinarily mischievous, and the concourse of sightseers was therefore large and attentive, almost surrounding the cage. On the floor of the cage lay a pink programme. Some one threw an unlighted parlor match into the cage, and it fell in the sawdust.

Jocko, as quick as a flash, seized it and instituted an investigation. He sniffed it, took a little bite of it and sputtered, looked steadfastly at it, and then, with unmistakable disgust, threw it down. Its flavor ovidentlv was not to his tnsto.

After blinking at it for a few minutes he made a quick grasp toward the match, and in the movement it was ignited on the floor of tho cage. The monkey was astonished, but he held tho burning match for a second, then flung it down on the pink programing, which immediately caught fire.

Then ensued a scene which impressed a beholder with thr idea that this monkey was worthy of a medal for his bravery and promptitude

The paper flamed up quickly, and the monkey danced about it in excitement. Then, with remarkable rapidity, he ran around to a part of the cage where there was a basin of water in which lay a tin spice-box. The wiry little animal quickly filled the box with water, hurried back to the blazing paper, shook the water out of the box directly on the fire, and it was speedily extinguished.

Then, fearing the fire was not entirely out, he jumped on the partly charred fragments and stamped on them; but he was still unsatisfied, and to make assurance doubly sure picked up what paper remained and tore it into many pieces, making certain that not a spark was left.

His impromptu performance elicited shouts of laughter, and also expressions of wonderment regarding the intelligence and presence of mind displayed. But the little monkey, like all true heroes, bore his honors modestly and with becoming gravity.

Gentleman Jocko

The Youth's Companion
35(46): 180
A well-behaved and a poorly-behaved monkey

Gentleman Jocko

Anonymous. 1861. Gentleman Jocko. The Youth's Companion 35(46): 180. [A well-behaved and a poorly-behaved monkey]

A friend of mine, an elderly gentleman in New York, has two pet monkeys, He keeps them in his study, shut up is a wire cage, like a great bird-cage. The old gentlemen is very kind to the little fellows. Whenever he is tired of studying or writing, he stops for awhile to play with them. He keeps nuts and other good things on his study table on purpose for them.

Whenever he has any nice thing given him, he always remembers to save a little share for his monkeys; and it is in partaking of these nice things that the different dispositions of his pets are shown. I think it is pretty much the same with children, If I saW a number of boys and girls playing together, and wanted to find out something of their different dispositions, I think I could do so by suddenly scattering among them a bag-full of sugar plums. Some would snatch and heap up all they could reach. Others would quickly begin to cram them into their mouths, some would hide all they could in their pockets, so as not to show how many they bad. And may be some, who had picked up only a few, would begin to give them away to those who had none. At any rate, each child would be apt to behave in the way most natural to him or to her; that is, if they did not think any one was watching.

But we began about the two monkeys. I was telling you that when they were eating, they showed the difference in their manners most plainly. Now I suppose that children think monkeys are pretty much all alike -- full of mischief, and not very handsome; but if they could watch my friend's two pets for awhile, they would think otherwise. To be sure, one of them is grey, and the other dark brown; but that is not their greatest difference, (The grey one is Nico, and the brown one Jocko.)

Jocko is a gentleman, but Nico is a very ill-mannered fellow. For example, when pudding is offered to Jocko, he eats it very daintily from the spoon, taking care not to spill any nor soil his bands. When Nico gets a chance at the plate, he plunges both hands at once into it, and finishes by getting the pudding and sauce up to his elbows, and dabbing a good deal of it on his face. In this untidy state he is very apt to snatch at the dress of the one who is feeding him, as if he did not like to see any body neater than himself. Jocko, on the contrary, if he finds his hands soiled, seems quite uneasy till he has licked them clean again, You know neat hands are one mark of a gentleman.

If the little fellows are thirsty and water is brought to them, Nico is sure to push Jocko away and take the first drink, and he almost always drinks so much that he is obliged to go away to coogh and choke. Sometimes Jocko happens to get the first sip, but when Nico comes and pushes him, he quietly gives up and waits for his turn. Indeed he very often gives up, or rather does not fight, when Nico snatches away his nice things, which Nico often does, I am sorry to say.

These monkeys have no tricks, and are not dressed in red coats and cups like their little cousins who go round with the organs; but they are very amusing to watch, just because they have not been taught to do unnatural things, but allowed to follow their own fancies.

Whenever I go to my friend's house and see these pets, they give me a silent lesson on the beauty of good manners and the ugliness of rude behavior. All the family and friends of their owner love Jocko best, and like to play with him, while they have always some word of reproof for Nico.

Little folks, whenever you are tempted to be rude or ill-mannered, remember these monkeys; and remember that nothing will sooner make people tired of you than rude behavior; while polite, gentle manners will make you beloved wherever you may go.

The Dishonest Milkwoman

The Youth's Companion
35(31): 124
A monkey throws a dishonest woman's money into the sea

The Dishonest Milkwoman

Anonymous. 1861. The Dishonest Milkwoman. The Youth's Companion 35(31): 124. [A monkey throws a dishonest woman's money into the sea]

I have been trying to remember how long ago it was that Nannie Rantin, the milk-merchant, flourished in Boston, but I have lost it. Avery street was Hog alley then. Boylston street was Frog lane, a part of Kilby street was Crab alley,and High street, where and whereabouts Nannie kept her cows, was appropriately enough called Cow lane. Extraordinary milkers they were. It is certain that full forty quarts were sold daily, by Nannie Rankin, to the neighbors, in Cow, Green's, Gray's, Gibbs and Belcher's lanes, and that region. The keep cost was little, or nothing; for Nannie's cows were intelligent cattle, and had a knack of lifting a latch with their horns, and found pickings almost everywhere.

He or she who hasteth to be rich shall not always be innocent. Nannie was finally detected in the very act of watering her milk, fell into disgrace, utterly lost her customers, and found her social position so very uncomfortable that she resolved to break up. So Nannie Rankin sold her two cows, and thus converting her property into gold and silver, she put it into a stocking, and placed it in her trunk, and having engaged her passage on board a coaster, she departed for a distant town, in the province of Maine, where she was born, intending to pass the remainder of her days in a private station.

The captain of the craft had on board a monkey of unusual proportions, whose incessant pranks and gambols were infinitely amusing. He was a great favorite with the sailors; though now and then it was absolutely necessary to correct his mischievous propensities by the application of the rope's end

One delightful morning in June, as they were sailing on their way, upon an even keel, with a mackerel breeze, Nannie Rankin was knitting upon deck -- "Holloa!" cried one of the sailors - "what the dogs has Jocko got up aloft there?" All eyes -- Nannie's among the rest -- were turned upward - "Dear me!" cried the poor woman, wringing her hands, "I left my trunk open, and if that wretch has not got my stocking, and all the money I have in the world. What will become of me?"

Tho skipper yelled at the top of his lungs, calling the monkey to come down. to allure him, by holding an apple aloft in his hand. But all to no purpose. There sat Jocko on the cross-trees, winking and trying with his teeth and nails, to untie the string, with which Nannie Rankin had secured the top of the stocking. In this he soon succeeded; and taking out a guinea, after viewing it attentively for an instant, jerked it overboard. Nannie cried bitterly as, one piece after another, the mischievous monkey threw them into the sea. In the meantime, the sailors had commenced running up the shrouds; and at length when Jocko felt that there was no longer any chance of escape on the cross-trees, he cast the stocking and all its contents into the sea, and clambered aloft to the very truck.

Nannie Rankin swooned and was carried below. When she recovered, she clasped her hands, raised her eyes, and said in a faint voice -- "It is the will of God -- WHAT CAME BY WATER, GOES BY THE WATER."

Riches, however honestly acquired, proverbially take to themselves wings and flee away - but if obtained by extortion, by wrong and robbery, it is rare to find them abiding in a family beyond a single generation.

While Jocko Dreamed of Cocoanuts

St. Nicholas; an Illustrated Magazine for Young Folk
27(10): 891
A boy who annoys a monkey has the tables turned

While Jocko Dreamed of Cocoanuts

Anonymous. 1900. While Jocko Dreamed of Cocoanuts. St. Nicholas; an Illustrated Magazine for Young Folk 27(10): 891. [A boy who annoys a monkey has the tables turned]

While Jocko dreamed of cocoanuts
A little turk came near
And meanly tried his blow gun
In stinging Jocko's ear.

Loud laughed the little Turkish imp,
Till tears were in his eyes.
Sly Jocko, swiftly sliding downward,
Seizes on the prize.

The turk is looking for his gun.
'T was in that very spot.
Sly Jocko now takes careful aim
And makes a clever shot.

The little turk is dancing now,
And sings -- though not for joy;
While Jocko, resting at his ease,
Smiles at the active boy.

A Monkey's Memory

The Youth's Companion
83(45): 592
A monkey recognizes his former owners after several years

A Monkey's Memory

Anonymous. 1909. A Monkey's Memory. The Youth's Companion 83(45): 592. [A monkey recognizes his former owners after several years]

Jocko was a little monkey which was sent as a present from Demerara to a gentleman living in a town in eastern Pennsylvania. He found a good home with people who gave him privileges that few of his kind in captivity ever know. The playful antics of the little creature were ever a source of amusement to the family, who placed him in a room at the top of the house, and were very fond of him.

When Jocko had been in the family three years, his owners made arrangements to go abroad. Not knowing what to do with the monkey, they concluded to send him to the zoological garden in Philadelphia, where they knew he would he well cared for. The family felt sorry to part with him, but they knew it was all that could be done.

Seven years rolled round before they saw Jocko again; and then the former owner of Jocko, being in Philadelphia with his wife, went to the zoolog¬ical garden to see him.

When they stood before the cage where the monkey, with a number of others, was confined, they peered in, trying to distinguish their own from among the other little creatures.

One of the monkeys reached his arm between the bars and plucked at the flowers on the woman's hat.

"Jocko!" she called. "Is that you, old fellow? Have you forgotten us?"

The monkey seemed to recognize the voice, and made frantic efforts to reach the woman, while his old master went in search of the keeper, to request him to take Jocko out, that they might see what he would do, and if he really recognized his friends.

The man readily assented, and no sooner had the monkey attained his temporary freedom than he sprang upon his former masters shoulder and chattered away in his native tongue. Great tears welled up into his eyes and rolled down his face, which proved that he had not forgotten his friends, and that gratitude, one of the rarest virtues in the breast of mankind, was not wanting in the child of the forest.

Anecdotes of a Monkey

The Youth's Companion
3(27): 107
Some of Jacko's humorous feats

Anecdotes of a Monkey

Anonymous [C.G.]. 1829. Anecdotes of a Monkey. The Youth's Companion 3(27): 107. [Some of Jacko's humorous feats]

Many pranks have been recorded as being the work of that most inimitable imitator, the Monkey. It has been my desire to add a few anecdotes to those upon record. The following were related to me by a gentleman from St. Domingo, who was the owner of the animal of which I am about to speak.

A few of the feats of Jacko; a favorite Monkey

The cook was one day very busy picking chickens and preparing them for roasting. Jacko, seated on the window of the kitchen, paid particular attention to all these operations. No further notice was taken of him till the next morning, when he was found diligently rolling in the ashes four small ducks, which he had picked and skewered, secundum artem.

His principal amusement was to set dogs to fighting. - Sometimes, whilst walking on the roof of the house, he would perceive a strange dog on the plantation. He would immediately give a shrill cry, with which the dogs of the house, were so well acquainted, as immediately to flock around him. The whole gang, with Jacko at their head, then sallied out to encounter and drive away the intruder. So soon as the combat was engaged, Jacko would run to some small hillock, some fence or some low tree, and there testify his joy by a laughing and chattering, interrupted only from time to time, to hiss the dogs on.

Having once, while accompanying his master on a visit, seen a gentleman's son take his lesson in writing, Jacko the moment he reached his home, flew to the ink pot, daubed his paws well with the liquid it contained, and proceeded to draw his pot hooks and ladles on a white bed quilt, which unfortunately was near him.

He was often seen in the garden, digging up plants, and again burying them root upwards.

Some masons were busy repairing the ceiling of the apartment in which Jacko with his mistress usually passed the night. Jacko eyed their work with signs of great pleasure, and immediately running to the milk house, he paddled up the butter and cream cheese together, and then plastered the wall with this mixture for several feet.

The exploit in which he showed the most instinct was in fishing. He was several times seen occupied in this employment -- his method was this: -- He placed a small basket in the water near the edge of a brook. After making it fast by piling stones behind it, he would go about ten yards above the basket, there getting in the water and agitating it very violently, he would suddenly leave the occupation; then running to the basket would smartly throw it upon the grass to a distance from the water. In this manner he never failed to obtain numbers of the small fry, which were driven into the basket by his agitation of the water.

Good Jocko

New York Evangelist
47(48): 6
Jocko makes friends with a dog and her pups

Good Jocko

Anonymous. 1876. Good Jocko. New York Evangelist 47(48): 6. [Jocko makes friends with a dog and her pups]

Jocko was a monkey on board of a ship on which Lady Verney of England was passenger. He was very much petted by the sailors, and did not seem to have those bad traits which some monkeys have.

The sailors liked him much, they never treated him roughly; and he repaid them with love in return.

On board of the ship was a spaniel with her four young puppies. At first she did not like Jocko at all, and would not let him come near the place where she and her young ones were kept. She would show so much anger, that Jocko would keep away, and go to his friends the sailors.

But Jocko had as much desire to see and pet the pups as some little girls have to play with the babies. So one day, when the mother spaniel was not present, Jocko went down to the place where the pups cuddled together. Then taking them up in his arms, he held them, and petted them, just as if they were his own children.

While he was thus engaged, the spaniel came in, and to her great surprise saw her children in the arms of their nurse. Instead of being angry, she was so much pleased that, from that time forth, she treated Jocko with great fondness. Often she would leave him to take care of her pups while she went off to walk about the ship.

This is a true story; and it shows how, even among the lower animals, love will win love.

Jocko in the Prize Ring

The National Police Gazette
43(327): 7
Monkey pugilists in the Italian Quarter of NYC

Jocko in the Prize Ring

[46] Anonymous. 1883. Jocko in the Prize Ring. The National Police Gazette 43(327): 7. [Monkey pugilists in the Italian Quarter of NYC]

Jocko in the Prize ring

How a couple of Mr. darwin's pets do credit to his estimation of them and furnish the Italian Quarter with a new amusement, New York City.

The pugilistic boom is spreading and has even invaded the Italian quarter. It may have a good eflect and the stiletto be discarded for the bunch of fives in the settlement of disputes among the sons of sunny Italy. The race, however, is a slow-moving one and can only he expected to gain by degrees the high plain of modern civilization, governed by the Marquis of Queensberry [sic] rules. Still they are advancing. They had not as yet had any regular sparring matches in the neighborhood of Crosby and Baxter streets, but the impressarios of the hand-organ operas have trained their monkeys in the rules of the prize ring, and one of the nightly amusements in the saloons in the Italian section is a set-to between rival Jockos, one of which is depicted by our artist.

Jocko's Morning Call

The National Police Gazette
39(218): 7
An organ-grinder's monkey's entrance into a yougn woman's room has dire consequences

Jocko's Morning Call

[46] Anonymous. 1881. Jocko's Morning Call. The National Police Gazette 39(218): 7. [An organ-grinder's monkey's entrance into a yougn woman's room has dire consequences]

The aristocrat of organ-grinders is the one who owns a monkey. The odd ways and curious antics of the tricksome little animal he carries about with him as an adjunct to his melodious mechanism attract attention where nothing else would. People who would hurl curses at an organ-grinder stop to smile at his monkey. Children deprive themselves of lollipops for the pleasure of placing a penny in Jocko's hand and seeing him doff his cap in gratitude. Besides, when an organ-grinder has a monkey he is not alone dependent on the people who gather around and skurry off at the first sign of a collection, but he can send him after the departing ones to gather the contributions in.

The chief usefulness of the organ monkey, however, is in making collections from the houses before which his master plays. Whereever there is an open window Jocko is instructed to make an entrance and appeal for a gratuity. The consequence is he sometimes gets in at queer places and sees strange sights. The poet Fitz James O'Brien once suggested that it would be a good idea for some sensational scribe to write the "Confessions of an Organ-Grinder's Monkey." We are inclined to think that Fitz James was about right.

The monkey who took a trip through West Thirteenth street last wook, for instance, could have told at least one curious incident. What it was our artist has explained as well as we can. We leave the incident for his graphic pencil to tell, instead of trying to do it justice with our tame pen.

We may as well add, however, that that monkey will never intrude where he is not wanted again. A wash pitcher proved a number of degrees harder than his skull. His master contemplated suing the assassin for damages until she threatened to have her big brother prosecute him for being an accessory to a burglarious entry of which his defunct pet was the principal. He is now training a monkey to look before he goes in, and to shun bedrooms in which young ladies are doing something to their hair before a glass.

Mary Musgrave

The Youth's Companion
37(11): 41
A very calm young woman is not surprised by the sudden presence of a monkey

Mary Musgrave

Anonymous. 1863. Mary Musgrave. The Youth's Companion 37(11): 41. [A very calm young woman is not surprised by the sudden presence of a monkey]

It must not be supposed for a moment that Mary Musgrave has made choice of such a chattering and fantastic companion as that which has had the impudence to perch himself on the opposite end of the frame wherein she is ingeniously plying her worsted threads. No, no; his red coat and ridiculous appearance would go but a little way in securing the attentions of one who is always so careful in the selection of her domestic pets as Mary.

How then came Master Jocko, with his grinning face and tawdry regimentals, to get into the exalted position in which we find him in the picture? Not by special invitation, at any rate, for nothing could have been more unexpected than Mr. Monkey's visit, It was simply the result of one of those practical jokes that some folks are fond of playing upon their intimate acquaintances.

Mary had been always noted, from childhood, for great coolness and self-possession. She never seemed flurried by any sudden surprise or accident, like most young people. Once she fell into a well, but managed to get out again of her own accord, without any outcry or assistance. Another time her clothes caught fire, and she quietly extinguished the flames, without alarming the family. This peculiarity in Mary's character increased with her years, and she was often admired, and sometimes envied, by her young friends for so rare a quality. Frequently, indeed, they put her coolness to a severe test, by playing such pranks upon her as would seriously frighten a girl of a more nervous temperament.

In the present instance one of her male acquaint¬ances, who was of a more playful disposition than one would suppose from his manly countenance, was about to make a morning call upon Mary's mother. On approaching the door he found an organ grinder with his monkey, playing "Hail Columbia." The thought at once struck him that he would try the effect of Master Jocko's sudden intrusion, upon Mary's nerves. So paying the grinder a few cents, he detached the monkey from its string, and after a little dexterous manoeuvring, he tossed the creature into Mary's apartment. With one bound the long-tailed visitor planted himself in front of the industrious girl, who, nothing daunted, simply raised her eyes to the unmannerly intruder, and in her own quiet way observed, "Well, Master Monkey, what has brought you here this morning?" On turning round, she caught a glance of Mr. Trainer, and the whole case was explained. The vain attempt to frighten her ended in a shake of the hand and a good, hearty laugh, by both parties.


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