led among the cage of Simians,
the debate does not appear to be renewed at any future time. They never
go to court with their grievances, and rarely appeal a second time to
force when the question has once been decided against them. Some human
beings might profit by studying this trait of monkeys.

CHAPTER VI.

Dago Talks about the Weather--Tells me of his Troubles--Dodo in
the "Balcony Scene"--Her Portrait by a great Artist.

On one of my visits to Chicago, in the autumn of 1890, I went to pay my
respects to Dago, the little brown monkey in Lincoln Park. He had been
sick for a while, and had not fully recovered, although he was able to
receive visitors, and his appetite for pea-nuts was fairly well
restored. On the morning of which I speak, it was dark and stormy. A
fierce wind and terrible rain prevailed from the north-west. I went to
the building just after daylight, in order to be alone with the monkey,
and when I entered the house, Frenchie, the head-keeper, told me how
very sick little Dago had been since I had left him on the day before.
I approached the cage and began to caress him, to which he replied in
low whimpering tones, as though he understood the nature of what I was
saying to him. Presently he raised himself erect upon his hind feet, and
placing his hands on his side, pressed and rubbed it as though he was in
great pain, and uttered some sounds in a low, piping voice. The sound
itself was pathetic, and when accented by his gestures, it was really
very touching. [Sidenote: DAGO AND THE WEATHER] At this juncture, a hard
gust of wind and rain dashed against the window near his cage, whereupon
the little monk turned away from me, ran to the window and looked out,
and uttered a sound quite different from the ones he had just been
delivering to me. Still standing erect, he appeared deeply interested,
and stood for a few moments at the window, during which time he would
turn his head towards me and utter this sound. That the sound he uttered
was addressed to me could not be doubted, and his manner in doing so was
very human-like. Then returning to me, still standing erect, he would
renew this plaintive speech in the most earnest manner, and continue it
until another gust would call him to the window. I observed that each
time he went to the window he uttered the same sound, as well as I could
detect by ear, and would stand for some time watching out of the window,
and occasionally turn his he