14 
ALMOST HUMAN 
of the “copy.” Indeed, it was only the commencement of the fun for 
the public. It at once called forth a most indignant remonstrance from 
a well-known Irishman, who demanded the reason why a noble family 
should be so shockingly traduced by having its name given to a brace 
of monkeys? He even suggested that if the young Irishmen of the 
city did their duty they would get out their “shooting-irons” and go up 
to the Zoo and kill every animal that had an Irish name attached to 
it, and thus avenge the latest insult to Ireland. Letters for and against 
this use of that name or any human name for such animals appeared 
from day to day until there was a full-grown controversy raging, and 
the most excellent advertisement thus freely given sent crowds of people 
flocking up to the Zoo to see the much-discussed animals. At last the 
bubble was pricked in a most unexpected manner. A very short letter 
was published in which the writer stated that he had been very deeply 
interested in the problem, and as an Irishman he had gone up to inspect 
the offending animals. After watching them carefully for a considerable 
time, he had come to the conclusion that they could not possibly be 
called anything else. 
This ended the business for the public, but not for the monkeys. 
The famous curse pronounced by the Cardinal upon the thief who stole 
his ring did not take effect upon the luckless jackdaw sooner than the 
ill-wishing of the innocent victims of miscalling did upon them. Both 
sickened and died in a very short time. I don’t attempt to explain it: 
I merely state the bald facts of their sad history. 
A HANGING MATTER. 
m 
Years ago there were three fine baboons in the IVfelbourne Zoo. 
They were not kept in cages, but were chained to poles about ten feet 
high. Each of these poles was surmounted by a small platform, perhaps 
eighteen inches in diameter, and all three were fixed in a paved court- 
yard enclosed by a high fence. The chains were attached to broad 
collars around the baboons’ necks, and were long enough to enable them 
to run up and down their poles at ease, and to curl themselves up in their 
kennels behind in whatsoever fashion they pleased. The three poles 
stood in a row. The central and biggest baboon was named Jacko. On 
his right was Jacob, on his left a nonentity whose very name has been 
forgotten. 
Jacob loved to concentrate public attention upon himself, and in 
order to ensure it he learned to turn somersaults. As soon as a crowd 
collected before him, he would run up his pole, stand on his hind legs, 
rattle his chain, and scream, “Ya-hoo!” Then, carefully holding the 
