THE SPIDER MONKEY. 



153 



touch the corner of a table cloth, and instantly 

 there followed a crash of china, and the cover 

 and its contents lay on the floor. Should a 

 bottle fall into her clutches, the cork was drawn 

 with the dexterity of a professional butler, and 

 the contents, cologne or catsup, ink or ammo- 

 nia, scattered abroad over whatever and who- 

 ever it might concern. 



A few catastrophes of this nature usually 

 hardened the most sentimental heart to her 

 coaxings, and after a while the table was estab- 

 lished at a safe distance, books were no more 

 left on the chairs, nor pillows in the hammocks. 

 But one hope w r as left to agitate the captive's 

 heart, and that could not be removed. It was a 

 small window opening upon the corridor from 

 the room of the portress, Donna Louisa. By the 

 utmost stretch, the monkey could just lay hold 

 of the sill with one of her hinder hands and 

 cling, while the crafty long tail made an inde- 

 pendent tour of inspection within. 



The owner of the room had often been 

 warned, and was usually on her guard against 

 the artful enemy, but one day there arose in the 

 court a hue and cry that instantly brought the 

 whole family upon the scene. Here on the floor 

 was the portress, there on the roof the monkey ; 

 on one side raving, shrieking, dancing about, 

 and cries, " O my Sunday gown ! " on the other 



