THE MONKEYFOLK OF SOUTH AFRICA 107 



did, because I think he was secretly glad, for that officer 

 man was what you call a snobbish sort of fellow, who spoke 

 with a sort of lofty lisp and a patronising sort of sound in 

 his voice, which, I am told, is common amongst mentally 

 deficient folk. 



My master used to teach me many things. He taught 

 me how to use a key, and how to drive a nail into wood 

 with a hammer. You see, we are very clever at imitating, 

 and we learn many things quite easily by watching how 

 you folk do them. We can think for ourselves as well. 

 One day my master's son tried to play a joke upon me. 

 He knew I was madly fond of golden syrup, so he put a 

 little in an earthenware jar and handed it to me. There 

 wasn't enough to run out, and the neck of the jar was too 

 small for my hand to be thrust in. I turned the jar over 

 and over and dashed it many times on the ground, but it 

 refused to break. Spying a stone, I raised the jar once 

 more and brought it down with a bang upon the stone. 

 Of course the jar smashed into many bits. I carefully 

 gathered up every scrap. Then, sitting down with my 

 legs in a circle round the fragments, for fear any might be 

 pilfered, I licked every one of them clean. 



Once they played a joke upon me, which upset my 

 nerves for weeks afterwards. People often handed me 

 paper bags of buns or sweets. One day two young fellows 

 came along, and taking some sweets out of a bag handed 

 them to me. Then they puckered up the mouth of the 

 paper bag and gave it to me. It felt heavy, and I was 

 jubilant. In order to enjoy the sweets to the utmost, and 

 at my leisure, I climbed my pole, and sitting on the ledge 

 at the top, I carefully opened the paper bag, fearful lest 

 any of the sweets might drop. 



One glance into the bag was sufficient. With a scream 

 of wildest horror I leapt out into space, only to be jerked 

 down to the ground by my chain with a terrific thud. I 



