Red Angel had now been with them more than six months, and he was probably a year old. When first captured he was a scrawny infant, dull and stupid, like all of his class. He had wonderful powers in the way of imitating habits and customs. The boys were very good vocalists, and while at work Harry would sing, but George whistled. It was an amusing sight to watch Red Angel when the boys engaged in the frequent concerts at night.
But of all the screamingly funny exhibitions, the attempt of Angel to imitate whistling was the most ludicrous. The orang's lips project too much to a point, and the jaws are so narrowed that the lips will not pucker. Whenever the boys commenced their concert Angel would be on hand, and enjoyed every moment of the time, and the boys had many a concert purely for his benefit.
At the end of each concert the whistling would begin. This invariably brought Angel to the front, and his exhibitions would be given with the utmost gravity and earnestness. The invariable result would be such uproarious fits of laughter on the part of all that he would take part in the jollification, little suspecting that the laughter was at his expense.
The only sound which he could emit during these performances sounded like a high-pitched stick rattling along a pale fence; but he was inordinately proud of it. It had always been on one key, heretofore, and without variation; but this evening Angel startled himself, as he did the others, by actually sounding two additional notes. He repeated this over and over.
"I wonder if we could make him talk?" asked George, after the laughter had subsided.
"There is no reason why some tones cannot be imitated. As the orang possesses wonderful powers of imitation and has, in captivity, developed many traits, I see no reason why simple words, or sounds, cannot be taught."
"I know there are words which he does understand. Time and again I have told him things, which he seems to understand. Now see if he understands this: 'Angel, do you want some honey?'"
His attempts at whistling ceased, and in a moment more was in the kitchen. Harry, who by this time had recovered from his mirth, thought it would be a good idea to attempt to teach him.
"If canary birds and dogs can understand language, I do not see why Angel shouldn't."