TWO LUNG-TESTS. 347 



disadvantages, and the two Africans in their lattice prison are to- 

 day probably the stoutest fourhanders with an equal record of 

 long captivity in any country of the temperate zone. 



The calorific ingredients of their diet may help them to sur- 

 vive the long winter nights, but a female baboon which escaped 

 from a private menagerie in the neighborhood of Tallulah Falls, 

 Georgia, in the fall of 1886, accomplished the same feat on a menu 

 of grass seeds and persimmons, and during a heavy snowfall in 

 December starved like a Mexican school teacher rather than run 

 the risk of forfeiting the luxury of freedom by approaching a 

 farmstead. She was recaptured by a hunter, or rather by his 

 hounds, the next month, but fought like a catamount, and her 

 second escape in March caused an excitement as if the chained 

 beast of the Apocalypse had broken loose. Her peculiar tracks 

 in the snow and in the sand of the river shore (where she used to 

 turn over flat stones in quest of crawfish) often put hounds on her 

 trail, but she always contrived to reach " tall timber " ahead of 

 her pursuers, till she met her Waterloo during a sleet- storm in 

 April, when the combined effects of cold and hunger had modi- 

 fied the prehensile vigor of her four hands. The hounds killed 

 her and ripped her shaggy coat into shreds, but dissection revealed 

 the fact that her lungs were almost as sound as those of a moun- 

 tain buck, the only mementos of her confinement being three 

 small cysts of atrophied tubercles. 



In his native haunts the chimpanzee rivals the vigor of any 

 fourhanded or fourfooted creature of his size, and there can be no 

 doubt that the secret of his failure to survive removal to the 

 higher latitudes is not his sensitiveness to cold air currents, nor 

 his impatience of confinement, but his expensiveness, and the con- 

 sequent reluctance of his jailers to expose him to atmospheric in- 

 fluences which would save his life, but which a deep-rooted delu- 

 sion still dreads as the harbinger of death. 



More than fifty years ago Dr. Friedberger, of Vienna, appears 

 to have suspected that relation of cause and effect in the case of 

 the Duke of Reichstadt, the son of the first Napoleon. 



" You have saved so many consumptives," said one of the doc- 

 tor's colleagues, " don't you see any chance to help poor R. ? " 



" It's a sadly peculiar case," said the specialist ; " as an ordi- 

 nary mortal he might pull through, but as the son of a demigod 

 I fear he is doomed." 



" What ! do you think the Government would " 



" Oh, hush ! No such idea. But, you see, his life is extra valu- 

 able, and for that very reason his ill-advised friends are extra 

 strict in the enforcement of the precautions that will stifle his vital 

 vigor." 



