But monkey in its live form was not declined, at least in limited quantity. One of the Indians offered a marmoset, a pretty little creature about eight inches long, and with a soft, silky fur covering its skin. It was restless and timid; at first it shrank from the youth, but quickly seemed to understand that it would find him a better master than the Indian. He took it in his hand and gently stroked its back; in a few moments it clung to him, and when the Indian reached for his property the little creature struggled to remain.

Frank's sympathies were awakened by the affection displayed by the marmoset, and a bargain was quickly made. Manuel conducted the negotiation, and the monkey became the property of the youth for an outlay of fifty cents. He paid a high price, as he afterwards ascertained, but at that time he was not familiar with the market quotations for this kind of live-stock.

Marmosets are the smallest members of the monkey family. The name is confined to the American varieties, and is sometimes restricted to the striated monkey of Guiana or Brazil. This last-named monkey has a tail a third longer than the body, the latter rarely exceeding eight or ten inches. Its fur is long and soft, and of a yellowish-gray color; both tail and body are banded with black, and there is a long tuft of white hairs on each side of the head, which is of a deep black or brown.

The new purchase received the name of Gypsy, and soon became a general favorite with the party, though it always recognized Frank as its master. It was a well-behaved pet, and, contrary to Frank's expectation, it never indulged in mischievous tricks. Manuel said the marmosets were rarely destructive, but the same could not be said of the rest of the monkey tribe in South America. The sapajous, he pronounced the worst of the lot; they are distributed through Brazil, and, though affectionate enough as pets, are too mischievous to be kept in a house or camp.

A MONKEY ROBBING BIRDS' NESTS.

"Three or four years ago," said Manuel, "I was on the Mamoré River with an English gentleman who had bought a sapajou while ascending the Amazon. He kept the fellow in a cage for a while, and then allowed him the run of the boat. The first day he was at liberty he threw overboard two of the dinner plates, and was punished by being shut up again.

"When he was free once more, he picked up a book that was lying on the deck, and when discovered he had torn out at least half the leaves, and tossed them into the water. He was again caged, and after a time was let out, but they fastened a chain about him so that he could not run around.

"Under this restraint he behaved very well, and displayed, or pretended to display, a fondness for his owner. The gentleman was one day working at the notes of his journey, and the monkey was chained close to his table, under the awning in the centre of the boat.