The monkey iz a human being, a little undersised, kivvered with hair, hitched to a tail, and filled with the devil.
Naturalists will tell you, if you ask them, that i am mistaken, that i mean well enuff, and don’t mean tew deceive ennybody, but the monkey iz not a human being, he iz simply a 101 pun on humanity, a kind of malishus joke ov Jupiter’s, a libel, with a long tail tew it, a misterious mixtur ov ludikrous mischief, and stale humor, a kind of pacing hobbyhoss, or connekting gang-plank, between man in his dignity and the beast in his darkness.
I hav a hi opinyun ov the naturalist, and all kinds ov the dictionary fraternity, and touch mi hat tew them, when we meet, and i respect them for what they know, but don’t worship them for what they don’t know, as the heathens do, their wodden gods.
I don’t kare what the philosophers say they kan prove in this matter, i tell you confidenshally, mi christian friend, that you and the monkey, are relashuns.
I don’t pretend tew say that you are brothers and sisters, but i do pretend tew state, that monkeys, or enny other kind ov critters, who exercise reason, even if the light ov it, is dim az a number six dip candle, in the rays ov the noon day sun, are our relashuns, for a certain amount.
The only fence between the animal and brute folks, iz instinkt and reason, and if the natralist kant prove that the monkey don’t show a single glimmering ov reason, i say he must step oph from the monkey’s tail, and let him eat at the fust table.
The monkey iz imitative tew the highest degree, and imitashun iz a direkt transgreshun ov the law ov instinkt, and iz fallow ground within the domain of reazon.
Instinkt don’t step one single step aside, tew smell ov a flower or pull a cat’s tail.
But argument ain’t mi fighting weight, i git along the best by asserting things az they strike me, and i say upwards ov four thousand things every year, that i kant prove, enny more than i kan prove what melody iz.
The naturalist may hav their own way, but they kant hav mine, what little i know about things haz bin whispered tew me by the spirits, or some other romping critters, and is az distinkt and butiful, sumtimes to me, as a dream on an empty stummuk; it may be all wrong but it never iz viscious, and thus i konklude it iz edukashun.