MONKEY BABIES. 



177 



He has his notions, too, about his food ; some 

 things he likes and others he does not. He will 

 quickly push from his mouth the morsel not to 

 his taste, and, if another is given, scream and 

 kick like any two-handed infant. 



Like all little people he is fond of toys, and, 

 in fact, he must have something to amuse him, 

 or he will roll on the floor, with all four hands 

 grasping at the air till he catches something — 

 no matter what, — when he holds on for dear 

 life. The thing he likes best to seize is hair, 

 and unfortunate is the man who lets him get 

 his fingers into his beard. Every finger is bent 

 over at the last joint so that it makes a perfect 

 hook, and, once clutched into a thick beard, it is 

 almost impossible to get them out ; especially 

 as he is very strong, being able to break nearly 

 any cage or undo almost any chain. 



In one thing, however, he is not in the least 

 like our dear little human babies ; he does n't 

 look like them. His face is wrinkled like a very 

 old man's, and his eyes look wistful and care- 

 worn. When sick he weeps, actually sheds 

 tears, and moans ; and when angry he pouts — 

 a pout that no girl or boy, however cross, can 

 equal. He makes his mouth almost into a 

 trumpet. 



Though solemn, this baby is not stupid ; he 

 readily learns to live on our food, and to eat 



