Five little Brown Cousins: Mickie, Nemo, Dodo, Nigger, and
McGinty--Nemo apologises to Dodo.
During the past winter there lived in Central Park a bright, fine,
little monkey by the name of Mickie. He did not belong to the Park, but
was merely kept as a guest of the city during the absence of his master
in Europe. Mickie is a well-built, robust, good-natured monkey of the
Capuchin variety. He does not talk much except when he wants food or
drink, but he and I are the best of friends, and I frequently go into
his cage to have a romp with him and his four little cousins.
When I first began to visit the Park in the fall of 1891, Mickie showed
a disposition to cultivate my acquaintance, and as it ripened into a
friendship day by day, we found great pleasure in each other's society.
As the monkey-house was open to the public at nine o'clock in the
morning, I had to make my calls at sunrise or thereabouts, in order to
avoid the visitors who daily throng this building.
[Sidenote: NEMO AND MICKIE]
In this cage was kept another little boarder of the same species, which
belonged to Mr. G. Hilton Scribner, of Yonkers. The keeper did not know
the name or anything of the past history of this little stranger, and
for want of some identity and a name I called him Nemo. He was a timid,
taciturn little fellow, quite intelligent, and possessed of an amount of
diplomacy equal to that of some human beings. He was the smallest monkey
in the cage, on which account he was somewhat shy of the others. He was
thoughtful, peaceable, but full of "guile." He sought on all occasions
to keep on the best terms with Mickie, to whom he would toady like a
sycophant. He would put his little arms about Mickie's neck and hang on
to him in the most affectionate manner. He would follow him like a
shadow, and stay by him like a last hope. If anything ever aroused the
temper of Mickie it was sure to make Nemo mad too; if Mickie was
diverted and would laugh, Nemo would laugh also if he was suffering with
a toothache. He was as completely under the control of Mickie as the
curl in Mickie's tail. When I first began to visit them Nemo would see
Mickie bite my fingers while we were playing, and he supposed it was
done in anger. Nemo never lost a chance to bite my fingers, which he
would always do with all his might, but his little teeth were not strong
enough to hurt me very much. He would only do this after seeing Mickie
bite me, and he did not evince any anger in the act, but appeared to do
so merely as a duty. He would sneak up to my hands and bite me unawares;
then he would run to Mickie and put his arm about his neck just as you
have seen some boys do when trying to curry favour with a larger boy.
On one occasion while in the cage with them he slipped up to me and bit
my finger, for which I kindly boxed his little ears. I would then give
Mickie my finger and allow him to bite it, after doing which I slapped
him gently and then give it to him again. I would then allow Nemo to
bite my finger, and if he bit it too hard I would slap him again, and in
this manner soon taught him to understand that Mickie only bit me in
fun, and he evidently learned that this was a fact. He did not appear,
however, to catch the point clearly or see any reason therefor, but on
all occasions thereafter he would take my finger in his mouth and hold
it in his teeth, which were scarcely closed upon it. This he would do
for a minute at a time without having the least apparent motive except
that he had seen Mickie do so. [Sidenote: MICKIE'S ATTACHMENT] Often
while holding my finger in this manner, with a look of seriousness
worthy of a supreme judge, he would roll his little eyes at me in the
most inquiring manner, as if to say "how is that"? When he once
realised that Mickie was so much attached to me, Nemo always showed a
desire to be on friendly terms with me; and when I would go into the
cage to play with Mickie and McGinty, he always wanted to be counted in
the game. When I had anything for them to eat he always wanted a seat of
honour at the table, and he would at times want to fight for me when the
other monkeys got too friendly. Poor little fellow, he is now dead, but
the image of his cute little face and original character are deeply
imprinted on my mind. I was never able to secure a record of the sounds
of his little voice, though I have often heard him talk. He had a soft
musical voice, and great power of facial expression.
[Sidenote: APOLOGY TO DODO]
One of the most remarkable things I have ever observed among monkeys was
done by this little fellow. On two separate occasions I have seen him
apologise to Dodo in the most humble manner for something he had done,
and I tried very hard to secure a record of this particular speech, in
which I totally failed, as I could not foreknow when such an act would
be done, and therefore could not have my phonograph in place to obtain
such a record. I called the attention of Mr. F. S. Church, the eminent
artist, to this act, with the hope that he might be able to make a
sketch of Nemo while in this attitude. I do not know what the offence
was, but the pose and expression as well as the speech were very
impressive. He sat in a crouching position, with the left hand clasping
the right wrist, and delivered his speech in a most energetic but humble
manner. The expression on his face could not be misunderstood. After a
few moments he paused briefly, and then seemed to repeat the same thing
some two or three times. The manner of his delivery was very suggestive,
and his demeanour was conciliatory. When he had quite finished his
speech, Dodo, to whom the apology was being made, and who had listened
to it in perfect silence, delivered a sound blow with her right hand on
the left side of the face of the little penitent, to which he responded
with a soft cry, while Dodo turned and left him without further debate.
I also called the attention of the keeper to this act, and he assured me
that he had repeatedly witnessed the same. What the subject of his
speech was or the cause which brought it about I am not able to say, nor
can I say with certainty to what extent he explained, but that it was an
apology, or explanation of some kind at least, I have not the slightest
doubt. I do not believe, of course, that his speech contained any
details concerning the offence, but that it expressed regret, penitence,
or submission does not to my mind admit of a doubt. I have seen a few
other cases somewhat similar to this, but none of them comparing in
point of polish and pathos to that of Nemo in his unique little speech.
Nigger was of this same species: he was in poor health most of the
winter, being afflicted with some spinal trouble. But, notwithstanding
his affliction, he was a good talker. His infirmity, however, placed him
at the mercy of the other inmates of the cage, and as monkeys are
naturally cruel and entirely destitute of sympathy, the daily life of
Nigger could not be expected to be a very happy one. From this state of
facts Nigger usually kept to himself, and was not intimate with any
other monkey in the cage. I have frequently given Nigger some choice
bits of food while I was in the cage, and protected him from the other
monkeys while he was eating it. This he seemed to fully appreciate, and
always located himself at a certain point in the cage where his defence
could be effected with the least difficulty. Nigger frequently indulged
in the most pathetic and touching appeals to his keeper, and went
through many of the gestures, sounds, and contortions which will be
described in the next chapter, as a part of the speech and conduct of
Dodo, some of whose remarkable poses and expressions have been
faithfully portrayed by Mr. Church.
[Sidenote: McGINTY AT CENTRAL PARK]
Among my personal friends of the Simian race, there is none more devoted
to me than little McGinty, another winter boarder at Central Park. From
the first of my acquaintance with McGinty we had been staunch friends,
and when I go to visit him he expresses the most unbounded delight. He
will reach his little arms through the bars of the cage, and put his
hands on my cheeks, hold his mouth up to the wires, and talk to me at
great length. When I go into the cage he will place himself on a perch
in the cage, where he will sit with his arms around my neck, lick my
cheeks affectionately, pull my ears, and chatter to me in a sweet but
plaintive tone. When Mickie joins the play, which he invariably does, by
climbing or jumping on to my shoulders, and interrupting the
_tete-a-tete_ between McGinty and myself, poor little McGinty's
jealousy, which is his supreme passion, causes him to retire in
disgust, and he will sometimes pout for several minutes without even
accepting food from me. After he has pouted for a while, however, he
will sometimes make overtures of reconciliation and seek by various
means to divert my attention. One of his favourite means of renewing
favour with me, was to whip poor little Nigger. He would look at me and
laugh, grin and make grimaces, and then dash off at Nigger and want to
eat him up. He did not seem to understand why I objected to this
whipping Nigger. Monkeys do not regard it as a breach of honour to whip
the helpless and feeble members of their tribe. They are not unlike a
large percentage of mankind. They always hunt for easy prey, and want to
fight something that is easily whipped. They are not great cowards, but
when once whipped they rarely attempt the second time to contest matters
with their victors. [Sidenote: CAGE OF CAPUCHIN MONKEYS] In this cage,
containing five brown Capuchin monkeys, it was not difficult to see
that Mickie ran things to suit himself. McGinty was the only one of the
four in the cage with him that ever contested any right with Mickie, and
for a long time it was a question in my mind who was to win in the end.
The next to them in authority was Dodo, who never attempted to control
Mickie or McGinty, but always made Nemo and Nigger stand about. Fourth
in line of authority was Nemo, who always resented any offence from
others by making Nigger take a corner; and the only victims that Nigger
had were the little white-faces, which never fight anything and are
always on the run. When it was finally decided between Mickie and
McGinty that Mickie should be captain, McGinty readily accepted the
place of first lieutenant, which rank he has continued to hold without
challenge. When once the question is settled among the cage of Simians,
the debate does not appear to be renewed at any future time. They never
go to court with their grievances, and rarely appeal a second time to
force when the question has once been decided against them. Some human
beings might profit by studying this trait of monkeys.