'
"But quick as thought the caps were thrown
From every monkey's crown,
For, like himself, each little elf
Threw his directly down.
"He then with ease did gather these,
And in his pack did bind;
Then through the woods conveyed his goods,
And sold them to his mind."
I daresay you could tell me the story of the monkeys who washed their hands
and faces in pitch, and so were caught. But from all the stories which are
told about monkeys, I fancy that we think of them too much as clever, and
noisy, and mischievous, and sometimes very ill-tempered and revengeful; so
I want to tell you something of their good and gentle ways, and especially
of their love for their little ones.
I used to watch a mother, in the monkey-house at the Gardens, nursing
her baby--a tiny grey thing, with its hair parted down the middle, and
the funniest, most knowing little face of its own. She nursed it in the
tenderest way, with such a loving expression on her face the while.
Then I have read of an American monkey driving away the flies which teased
her little one; and of another good mother who was seen washing the faces
of her family in a stream. And they are kind not only to their own; for if
a poor little monkey is left an orphan, it is sure to be taken care of by
some other monkey's father or mother.
A gentleman who was coming home from India tells this story: There were on
board two monkeys, one older than the other, but not its mother.
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