responsible for the damage they do. The moment the door of the cage is opened they both rush out like rockets, and "The Hag" goes immediately to the fender and warms. herself, like a good monkey, as she, being older, seems to know that if she misbehaves herself she will have to be put back into her cage. Tiny, on the contrary, rushes round the room with the velocity of a swallow, and takes observations to see what mischief she can do. 5. Tiny steals whatever is on the table, and it is great. fun to see her snatch off the red herring from the plate and run off with it to the top of the book-shelves. While I am getting my herring, Tiny goes to the breakfast-table again, and, if she can, steals the egg; this she tucks under her arm and bolts away, running on her hind legs. This young lady has of late been rather shy of eggs, as she once stole one that was quite hot, and burnt herself. She cried out, and "The Hag" left off eating sardines, shook her tail violently, and opened her mouth at me, as much as to say, "You dare hurt my Tiny!" can. 6. If I keep too sharp a look-out upon Miss Tiny, she will run like a rabbit across the table and upset what she She generally tries the sugar first, as she can then steal a bit; or she will just put her hand on the milk-jug and pull it over. If she cannot get at the sugar-basin or milk-jug, she will kick at them with her hind legs-just like a horse and knock them over as she passes. 7. Having poured out the tea, I open the newspaper quite wide, to take a general survey of its contents. If I do not watch her carefully, Tiny goes behind the chair on to the book-shelf, and comes crash into the middle of the 'Times," like a foxhunter charging at a five-barred gate. Of course, she cannot go through the "Times"; but she takes her chance of a fall somewhere, and her great aim seems, to perform the double feat of knocking the paper out of my hand and upsetting the teacup and its contents, or, better still, the teapot on to the floor. Lately, I am glad to say, she did not calculate her fall quite right; for she put her foot into the hot tea and stung herself smartly, and this seems to have had the effect of making her more careful for the future. All the day of this misfortune she walked upon her heels, and not upon her toes as usual. ner. 8. " The Hag" will also steal, but in a more quiet manShe is especially fond of sardines in oil, and I generally let her steal them, because the oil does her good, though the servants complain of the marks of her oily feet upon the cloth. Sometimes the two make up a "stealing party." One morning I left the breakfast things for a moment, and in an instant Tiny snatched up a broiled leg of pheasant and bolted with it, carried it under her arm round and round the room, after the fashion of the clown in the pantomime. While I was hunting Tiny for my pheasant, "The Hag" bolted with the toast. I could not find time to catch either of the thieves, and so had to go off without any breakfast. 9. Tiny and "The Hag" sometimes go out stealing together. They climb up my coat and search all the pockets. I generally carry a great many cedar pencils; the monkeys take these out and bite off the cut ends. But the great treat is to pick and pick at the door of a glass cupboard till it opens, then to get in and drink the hair-oil which they know is there. Any new thing that comes they must examine; and when a hamper comes I let the monkeys unpack it, especially if I know it contains game. They pull out the straw a bit at a time. 10. The performance generally ends by their upsetting the basket. I once received a snake in a basket, and let the monkeys unpack it. They have a mortal horror of a snake. When they found out the contents of the hamper, they were off in double-quick time, and it was a long time before they would come down from behind the cast of a very large salmon on the top of the book-shelves. 11. The mischief this bright pair do is appalling. One day a scene of havoc was discovered in the bed-room. It was known the culprit was "The Hag," and that she must be in the bedroom. The servants were called up and the room searched thoroughly, sofa and other pieces of furniture moved, and the whole place thoroughly examined; still no "Hag" could be found. The hunt was given up, but a strict watch kept. 12. At last, after she knew the hunt was over, and we were waiting for the old lady to come out from somewhere, just the top of her head and her bright eyes were seen in the looking-glass on the table, the original of the reflection being on the top of the great old-fashioned four-post bedstead, crouched down behind the board, like a rifleman in a pit, "looking to see how we were looking," and as quiet and noiseless as a marble bust. 13. The monkeys' principal companions in the house are a very valuable talking parrot and a handsome French Angora cat. Tiny, when loose, renders the lives of these creatures miserable. The parrot had originally about fourteen handsome red feathers in her tail. Now she can only muster three feathers: Tiny has pulled all the rest out. 14. Tiny runs and jumps round and round the cage, and pretends to steal the Indian-corn. The poor bird turns round and round, with her feathers all the wrong way, and pecks at Tiny, fighting her as an old woman up in a corner defends herself from a lot of mischievous, teasing streetboys. While protecting her corn, Polly forgets her tail; and Tiny watches her opportunity and tears out a handful of feathers at a time, and off she goes like a shooting-star. When the cat is asleep in front of the fire, Tiny's great delight is to creep noiselessly up behind and pull the fur out; and, if that does not wake her, she will get the end of her tail in her mouth and give it a bite, and this operation soon starts the cat. These pockWhen empty 15. The worst of the monkeys is that they have pockets in which to pack away the goods they steal. ets consist of a pouch each side of the face. these pouches are not observable, but yet the owners can stow away an immense amount in them. It is great fun to see how much they will hold; and this is done by giving them an unlimited supply of acid drops. They immediately fill their pouches as full as ever they can cram them, and I find they can pack away about twenty acid drops in each pouch. 16. One day several things were missing. At once I thought of the monkeys. I caught them and searched their pouches, a pretty safe find for stolen goods. In "The Hag's" pouches were a steel thimble, my own gold fingerring, a pair of pearl sleeve-links, a farthing, a button, a shilling, and a bit of sweet-stuff. 17. There is no trouble to catch the monkeys. I have only to open the door of their cage and say, "Cage! cage! go into your cage! Quick march!" and they go in instantly, like the good beasts they are. The parrot has caught up these words, and, when the monkeys are running about, often cries out, "Cage! cage! go into your cage!" 18. I fear that if the poor monkeys could read the characters I have given them, they would not be much pleased with me. I must, therefore, say something of their good qualities. They are both very amiable and affectionate, and there is not the least humbug about them. If they steal, it is only because it is their instinct to do so. and for the pure innate love of mischief; and nobody can blame them. They understand every word I say, but at the same time are occasionally most disobedient. 19. Although my monkeys do considerable mischief, yet I let them do it. I am amply rewarded by their funny and affectionate ways. The reader may wonder that I like to keep my monkeys at all in my house; but I do like to keep them, and nothing whatever would induce me to part with them. My monkeys love me, and I love my monkeys. FRANK BUCKLAND. MONKEY, little merry fellow, Look now at his odd grimaces! Look now at him! gently peep! With his arm beneath his head. 1 Pun-chi-nel'lo, the buffoon in a puppet-show. |