The late Dr. John Torrey, of Columbia College, was extremely fond of
pets, and expressed admiration for the pretty little Brazilian monkeys
with gentle, human faces and velvety, mouse-colored coats. A gentleman
who heard it went shortly afterward to Brazil. Upon his return, he
presented the doctor with a choice pair. A cage was provided for them,
and they soon became members of the family, petted by all, and tenderly
loved by the doctor, in whose study they lived.
One Sunday, the entire family went to church and the monkeys were left
at home in their cage. When the churchgoers returned they found the
stay-at-homes on the top of the folding doors of the parlors, trembling
and crying piteously—and for reasons, as they soon discovered. The
little mischief-makers had forced open the door of their cage, and,
finding themselves free, had proceeded to enjoy themselves in a manner
that was scandalous.
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In the cellar a bag of hops and ten baskets of strawberries were dumped
together and hopelessly mixed; the pans of milk were without cream, and
there was unmistakable evidence that the monkeys had skimmed them with
their tails! A cistern in the yard offered a fine opening, and the
little mischiefs gathered some clothes from the line, the cook’s aprons
from the kitchen, and plumped them all in.
An open watch belonging to a daughter of the house attracted one of the
monkeys. He removed the hands, took it down stairs and carefully covered
the face with mud, and then brought it back and placed it on her bed.
Not so carefully did they pull the cover from her writing table,
bringing ink and papers with it, and spilling the ink; and when it came
to the pulling down of muslin curtains and bed hangings, and tearing
them into strips, the fun must have risen to frenzy, for they proceeded
to do up the parlor window draperies in the same style. The dining room
table next engaged their attention, and the fact that they made a salad
of the flowers in the center with the pepper, salt, and mustard may have
accounted for their tearful state when they were found perched above the
door.
The little penitents were forgiven, for they seemed really sorry. But
soon afterward one of the midgets carefully removed the glasses from the
doctor’s spectacles, twisted the bows and put them in the stove, from
which they both took ashes and sprinkled round the room. Fortunately
there was no fire in the stove, for the next thing in order was the
discovery of a gross of matches, which they scattered over the floor.
This began to look like danger, so the doctor was obliged to sell them
to Mr. Barnum. But, whenever he went to visit them, as he often did,
they greeted him with unmistakable signs of delight and affection.