JACKO IN THE PANTRY.
In his frequent visits to the stable, Jacko amused himself by catching
mice that crept out to pick up the corn.
The servants, having noticed his skill, thought they would turn it to
good account, and having been troubled with mice in the pantry,
determined to take advantage of the absence of Mrs. Lee on a journey,
and shut the monkey up in it. So, one evening, they took him out of his
comfortable bed, and chained him up in the larder, having removed every
thing except some jam pots, which they thought out of his reach, and
well secured with bladder stretched over the top.
Poor Jacko was evidently much astonished, and quite indignant, at this
treatment, but presently consoled himself by jumping into a soup
tureen, where he fell sound asleep, while the mice scampered all over
the place.
As soon as it was dawn, the mice retired to their holes. Jacko awoke
shivering with cold, stretched himself, and then, pushing the soup
tureen from the shelf, broke it to pieces. After this achievement, he
began to look about for something to eat, when he spied the jam pots on
the upper shelf.
"There is something good," he thought, smelling them. "I'll see."
His sharp teeth soon worked an entrance, when the treasured jams, plums,
raspberry, strawberry, candied apricots, the pride and care of the cook,
disappeared in an unaccountably short time.
At last, his appetite for sweets was satisfied, and coiling his tail in
a corner, he lay quietly awaiting the servant's coming to take him out.
Presently he heard the door cautiously open, when the chamber girl gave
a scream of horror as she saw the elegant China dish broken into a
thousand bits, and lying scattered on the floor.
She ran in haste to summon Hepsy and the nurse, her heart misgiving her
that this was not the end of the calamity. They easily removed Jacko,
who began already to experience the sad effects of overloading his
stomach, and then found, with alarm and grief, the damage he had done.
For several days the monkey did not recover from the effects of his
excess. He was never shut up again in the pantry.
When Mrs. Lee returned she blamed the servants for trying such an
experiment in her absence. Jacko was now well, and ready for some new
mischief; and Minnie, who heard a ludicrous account of the story,
laughed till she cried.
She repeated it, in great glee, to her father, who looked very grave as
he said, "We think a sea voyage would do the troublesome fellow good;
but you shall have a Canary or a pair of Java sparrows instead."
"Don't you know any stories of good monkeys, father?"
"I don't recollect any at this moment, my dear; but I will see whether I
can find any for you."
He opened the book, and then asked,--
"Did you know, Minnie, that almost all monkeys have bags or pouches in
their cheeks, the skin of which is loose, and when empty makes the
animal look wrinkled?"
"No, sir; I never heard about it."
"Yes, that is the case. He puts his food in them, and keeps it there
till he wishes to devour it.
"There are some kinds, too, that have what is called prehensile tails;
that is, tails by which they can hang themselves to the limb of a tree,
and which they use with nearly as much ease as they can their hands. The
facility which this affords them for moving about quickly among the
branches of trees is astonishing. The firmness of the grasp which it
makes is very surprising; for if it winds a single coil around a branch,
it is quite sufficient, not only to support its weight, but to enable it
to swing in such a manner as to gain a fresh hold with its feet."
"I'm sure, father," eagerly cried Minnie, "that Jacko has a prehensile
tail, for I have often seen him swing from the ladder which goes up the
hay mow."
"I dare say, child. He seems to be up to every thing. But here is an
account of an Indian monkey, of a light grayish yellow color, with black
hands and feet. The face is black, with a violet tinge. This is called
Hoonuman, and is much venerated by the Hindoos. They believe it to be
one of the animals into which the souls of their friends pass at death.
If one of these monkeys is killed, the murderer is instantly put to
death; and, thus protected, they become a great nuisance, and destroy
great quantities of fruit. But in South America, monkeys are killed by
the natives as game, for the sake of the flesh. Absolute necessity alone
would compel us to eat them. A great naturalist named Humboldt tells us
that their manner of cooking them is especially disgusting. They are
raised a foot from the ground, and bent into a sitting position, in
which they greatly resemble a child, and are roasted in that manner. A
hand and arm of a monkey, roasted in this way, are exhibited in a museum
in Paris."
"Monkeys have a curious way of introducing their tails into the fissures
or hollows of trees, for the purpose of hooking out eggs and other
substances. On approaching a spot where there is a supply of food, they
do not alight at once, but take a survey of the neighborhood, a general
cry being kept up by the party."