THE SPIDER MONKEY. 



147 



First in my heart was the spider monkey, one 

 of the most loving of her emotional race, yet so 

 prone to mischief that five minutes of freedom 

 was as disastrous in the court as a cyclone. To 

 find herself at liberty, was to fling herself with 

 fatal instinct upon the choicest tree or plant. 

 She wasted no precious seconds in deciding what 

 to do, she simply did it, and two minutes was 

 amply sufficient to strip a small tree of flowers 

 or fruit and leaves, and turn to the next. Her 

 ingenuity in planning, and her promptness in 

 carrying out her plans, were truly marvelous. 

 Yet how could I blame her ? In sight of the 

 tempting tropical growth, the restless creature 

 spent long and tiresome days. With longing 

 soul and itching fingers she gazed upon tree and 

 shrub, plant and flower, doubtless planning a 

 programme of operations should she ever achieve 

 freedom. Success to the monkey was, however, 

 embarrassment to the mistress ; the principal 

 looked annoyed, the gardener raged, and the 

 cook openly scolded. 



Quarters were arranged for her in the corri- 

 dor, as they had been for her predecessor, and 

 she was as quickly as possible placed in them. 



After carefully studying out all the possibili- 

 ties, she appeared perfectly contented with the 

 plan, the familiar association with people mak- 

 ing up to her for the restriction of her range. 



