eads, and afterward tear it to pieces with his teeth. His nuts he
broke with a hammer precisely as a man would have done and without being
shown its use. Ridicule was not pleasant to him; he strongly resented
being laughed at, and would throw anything within reach at his tormentor
and with a skill and force not usual with monkeys. Taking the missile in
both hands and standing erect, he would extend his long arms behind his
back and hurl the article by bringing them forcibly forward.

If any object he wanted was too far away to reach, he would draw it
toward him with a stick. Failing in this, he was observed to throw a
shawl back over his head, and then fling it forward with all his
strength, holding it by two corners. When it fell over the object, he
brought this within reach by drawing in the shawl. In his gyrations,
the chain by which he was fastened often became twisted around some
object. He would now examine it intently, pulling it in opposite ways
with his fingers until he had discovered how the turns ran. This done,
he would carefully reverse his motions until the chain was quite
disentangled.

The most striking act of intelligence told of this creature was his
dealings with a hearth-brush which fell into his hands, and of which the
handle screwed into the brush. It took him no long time to find out how
to unscrew the handle. When this was achieved, he at once began to try
and screw it in again. In doing so he showed great ingenuity. At first
he put the wrong end of the handle into the hole, and turned it round
and round in the right direction for screwing. Finding this would not
work, he took it out and tried the other end, always turning in the
right direction. It was a difficult feat to perform, as he had to turn
the screw with both hands, while the flexible bristles of the brush
prevented it from remaining steady. To aid his operations he now held
the brush with one foot, while turning with both hands. It was still
difficult to make the first turn of the screw, but he worked on with
untiring perseverance until he got the thread to catch, and then screwed
it in to the end. The remarkable thing was that he never tried to turn
the handle in the wrong direction, but always screwed it from left to
right, as if he knew that he must reverse the original motion. The feat
accomplished, he repeated it, and continued to do so until he could
perform it easily. Then he threw the brush aside, apparently taking no
more int