One of the most intelligent of my brown Capuchin friends was little Nellie. When she arrived in Washington, I was invited to visit her. I introduced myself by speaking to her the sound of food. To that she promptly replied. She was rather informal, and we were soon engaged in a chat on that subject—the one that above all others interests a monkey. On my second visit she acted like an old acquaintance, and we had a fine time. On a later visit she allowed me to put my hands into her cage to handle and caress her. On another visit I took her out of the cage and we had a real jolly romp. This continued for some days, during which time she answered me when I gave the word for food or drink. She had grown quite fond of me, and always recognized me when I entered the door.
About this time there came to Washington a little girl who was deaf, dumb, and blind. It was little Helen Keller. She was accompanied by her teacher, who acted as her interpreter. A great desire of Helen’s life was to see a live monkey—that is, to see one with her fingers. The owner sent for me to come and show one to her. When any one except myself had put hands upon Nellie, she had growled and scolded and showed temper. I took her from the cage. When the little blind girl first put her hands on Nellie, the shy little monkey did not like it. I stroked the child’s hair and cheeks with my own hand and then with Nellie’s. She looked up at me and uttered one of those soft, flute-like sounds. Then she began to pull at the cheeks and ears of the child. Within a few minutes they were like old friends and playmates, and for nearly an hour they afforded each other great pleasure. At the end of that time they separated with reluctance. The little simian acted as if conscious of the sad affliction of the child, but seemed at perfect ease with her. She would decline the tenderest approach of others. She looked at the child’s eyes, and then at me, as if to indicate that she was aware that the child was blind. The little girl appeared not to be aware that monkeys could bite. It was a beautiful and touching scene, and one in which the lamp of instinct shed its feeble light on all around. Helen has now grown into womanhood. I recently paid her a visit, and she assured me that she still pleasantly remembered this dear little monkey friend.
One day Nellie escaped from her cage and climbed upon a shelf occupied by some bird cages. As she climbed over the light wicker cages, some of them, with their little yellow occupants, fell to the floor. I tried to induce Nellie to return to me; but the falling cages, the cry of the birds, the screeching of the parrots, and the vociferous chatter of other monkeys frightened poor Nellie almost out of her wits. She, thinking I was the cause of all this trouble, because I was present, screamed with fright at my approach. Such is the rule that governs monkeydom. Monkeys suspect every one of doing wrong except themselves. I had her removed to my apartments. She was supplied with bells and toys, and was fed on the fat of the land. By this means we finally knitted together again the broken bones of our friendship. When once a monkey has grown suspicious of you, it seldom entirely recovers from aversion. In every act thereafter you are suspected of mischief. I made some good records of the speech of this amiable monkey and studied them with special care.
A frequent and welcome visitor to my study was a little boy about six years old. For him Nellie entertained great fondness. At the sight of the boy, Nellie went into perfect raptures, and when leaving him she called him so earnestly and whined so pitifully that one could not refrain from sympathy. On his return she would laugh audibly and give every sign of extreme joy. She never tired of his company, nor gave any attention to others while he was present. Some children next door found great delight in calling to see Nellie, and she always evinced great pleasure at their visits. On these occasions she consciously entertained them and showed herself to the best advantage. In order to make a good record of her sounds, and especially of her laughter, I brought the little boy to my aid. The boy would conceal himself in the room, and after Nellie had called him a few times he would jump out and surprise her. This would cause her to laugh till she could be heard throughout the whole house. In this manner I secured some of the best records I have ever made of the laughter of monkeys. When the boy concealed himself again, I secured the peculiar sound which she used when trying to attract his attention.
Nellie had spent much of her life in captivity, and had been used to the society of children. She rarely ever betrayed any aversion to them. She delighted to pat their cheeks, pull their ears, and tangle their hair. She took great pleasure in cleaning one’s finger-nails. She did this with the skill of a manicure. She found pleasure in picking the shreds, ravelings, or specks from one’s clothing. She was not selfish in selecting her friends. She was influenced neither by age nor by beauty.
To be out of her cage and supplied with toys was all she demanded to make her happy. I have sometimes thought she preferred such a life to the freedom of her Amazon forests. It is to be regretted that monkeys are so destructive that one dare not turn them loose in a room where there is anything that can be torn or broken. They enjoy such mischief. Nellie often begged me so piteously to be taken from her little iron prison that I could not refuse her request, even at the cost of much trouble in preparing the room for her.
As we retain these little captives against their will and treat them worse than slaves by keeping them in close confinement, we should at least try to amuse them. It is true that they do not have to toil; but it would be more humane to make them work in the open air than to confine them so closely and deprive them of every means of pleasure. As an act of humanity and simple justice, I would impress upon those who have the charge of these little pets the importance of keeping them supplied with toys. In this respect they are just like children. For a trifle one can furnish them with such toys as they need. It is absolutely cruel to keep these little creatures confined in solitude and deny them the simple pleasure they find in playing with a bell, a ball, or a few marbles. A trifling outlay in this way will very much prolong their lives. Monkeys are always happy if they have plenty to eat and something to play with. I recall no investment of mine which ever yielded a greater return in pleasure than one little pocket match-safe, costing twenty-five cents, which one evening I gave to Nellie to play with. I had put into it a small key to make it rattle, and also some bits of candy. She rattled the box and found much pleasure in the noise it made. I showed her how to press the spring in order to open the box; but her little black fingers were not strong enough to release the spring and make the lid fly open. However, she caught the idea and knew that the spring was the secret which held the box closed. When she found that she could not open it with her fingers, she tried it with her teeth. Failing in this, she turned to the wall, and standing upright on the top of her cage, she took the box in both hands and struck the spring against the wall until the lid flew open. She was perfectly delighted at the result, and for the hundredth time, at least, I closed the box for her to open it again. On the following day some friends came in to visit her. I gave her the match-safe to open. On this occasion she was in her cage, and through its meshes she could not reach the wall. She had nothing against which to strike the spring to force it open. After looking around her and striking the box a few times against the wires of her cage, she discovered a block of wood about six inches square. She took this and mounted her perch. Balancing the block on the perch, she held it with the left foot, while with the right foot she held to the perch. With her tail wound around the meshes of the cage to steady herself, she carefully adjusted the match-box in such a manner as to protect her fingers from the blow. Then she struck the spring against the block of wood and the lid flew open. She fairly screamed with delight and held up the box with pride. The lid was again closed in order that she might open it.
The late hours which I kept were beginning to tell on Nellie, and from time to time during the day I caught her taking a nap. I determined to use some curtains to avoid disturbing her rest. Drawing them around the cage, I lapped them over and pinned them down in front. Then I turned down the light and kept quiet for a little while to allow her to go to sleep. After the lapse of a few minutes I quietly turned up the light and resumed writing. In an instant the curtains rustled. Looking around, I saw her little brown eyes peeping through the folds of the curtains, which she gracefully held apart with her little black hands. When she saw what had caused the disturbance she chattered in her soft, rich tones, and tried to pull the curtains farther apart. I arranged them so she could not look around the room. To see her holding the curtains apart in that coquettish manner, turning her head from side to side, peeping and smiling at me and talking in such low sweet tones, was like a real flirtation. One who has not witnessed such a scene cannot fully appreciate it. Only those who have experienced the warm and unselfish friendship of these little creatures can realize how strong the attachment becomes. The love of these little creatures is proof against gossip, and their tongues are free from it.
Among the many captives of the simian race who spend their lives in iron prisons, adding to the wealth and gratifying the cruelty of man,—not to expiate any crime,—I have many little friends. I am attached to them. So far as I can see, their devotion to me is as warm and sincere as that of any human being. I must confess that I am too obtuse to discern in what way the love they have for me differs from my own for them. I cannot see in what respect their love is less sublime than human love. I cannot discern in what respect the affection of a dog for a kind master differs from that of a child for a kind parent. I fail to see in what respect the sense of fear of a cruel master differs from that of the child toward a cruel parent. It is mere sentiment that ascribes to the passion of a child a higher source than the same passion in the dog or the monkey. The dog could have loved or feared another master just as well. Filial love or fear reaches out its tendrils just as far when all the ties of kindred blood are removed. It has been said that for one we are able to assign a reason why, while the other feeling is a mere impulse. I am too dull to understand how reason actuates to love, and instinct to mere attachment. I do not believe that in the intrinsic nature of these passions there is any essential difference. Whether it be reason or instinct in man, the affections of the lower animals are actuated by the same motives, governed by the same conditions, and guided by the same reasons as those of man. I shall long remember some of my monkey friends, and I feel sure that, far away in the silent niches of their memory, some of them have my image enshrined. Sometimes after long months of absence I see them again. They always recognize me at sight and often scream with pleasure at my return.