FINGERS AND TOES. 
IOI 
between his special endowment of nails and that skill 
in climbing which enabled him to get at my hat hanging 
upon a peg in the bare wall. On trees he is more nimble 
than a squirrel, and puts his powers to villainous uses. I 
have convicted him of spending his nights running up 
and down every trellis in the garden, seeking for the 
growing points of our choicest creepers. Having found 
them, he eats them, and our choicest creepers do not 
grow. I have also got circumstantial evidence connecting 
him with the disappearance of every flower-bud on the 
largest and handsomest orchid I ever had. A palate 
educated on such delicacies is of course not to be tempted 
with bread or cheese, so your traps are set in vain. Each 
morning reveals some fresh outrage, but the culprit is not 
found. He is never abroad till darkness sets in, and he 
rarely enters the house. I doubt if he ever descends to the 
ground unless compelled. His home is among trees. In 
the jungles I have often found his nest, a ball of soft grass, 
in which he feels so comfortable that you may carry away 
the whole nest in your pocket and he will not leave it. 
I have known these his ways for many years, but I 
was not prepared to find him hollowing out my so!a topee 
and shredding the pith into stuffing for his sybarite couch. 
