Meeting with Nellie—Nellie was my Guest—Her Speech and Manners—The little Blind Girl—One of Nellie's Friends—Her Sight and Hearing—Her Toys, and how she Played with them.

One of the most intelligent of all the brown Capuchins that I have ever seen was Nellie, who belonged to a dealer in Washington. When she arrived there, I was invited to call and see her. I introduced myself in my usual way, by giving her the sound for food, to which she promptly replied. She was rather informal, and we were soon engaged in a chat on that subject, the one above all others that would interest a monkey. On my second visit she was like an old acquaintance, and we had a fine time. On my third visit she allowed me to put my hands into her cage, and handle her with impunity. On my next visit I took her out of the cage, and we had a real romp. This continued for some days, during which time she would answer me on all occasions when I used the word for food or drink. She had grown quite fond of me, and always recognised me as I entered the door. NELLIE AND THE BLIND GIRLAbout this time there came to Washington a little girl who was deaf, dumb, and blind; she was accompanied by her teacher, who acted as her interpreter. One of the greatest desires of this little girl's life was to see a live monkey—that is, to see it with her fingers. The dealer who owned the monkey sent for me to come down and show it to her, as I could handle the monkey for her. I took Nellie from the cage, and when any one except myself would put hands upon her she would growl and scold and show her temper; and when the little blind girl first attempted to put her hands on her, Nellie did not like it at all. I stroked the child's hair and cheeks with my own hand first, and then with Nellie's; she looked up at me in an inquiring manner, and uttered one of those soft, flute-like sounds a few times, and then began to pull at the cheeks and ears of the child. Within a few moments they were like old friends and playmates, and for nearly an hour they afforded each other great pleasure, at the end of which time they separated with reluctance. The little Simian acted as if she was conscious of the sad affliction of the child, but seemed at perfect ease with her, although she would decline the tenderest approach of others. She would look at the child's eyes, which were not disfigured, but lacked expression, and then look up at me as if to indicate that she was aware that the child was blind, and the little girl appeared not to be aware that monkeys could bite at all. It was a beautiful and touching scene, and one in which the lamp of instinct shed its feeble light on all around.

On the following day, by an accident in which I really had no part, except that of being present, Nellie escaped from her cage, and climbed up on a shelf occupied by some bird-cages. As she attempted to climb up, of course the light wicker cages with their little yellow occupants fell to the floor by the dozen. I tried to induce her to return or to come to me, but the falling cages, the cry of the birds, the talking of parrots, and the scream of other monkeys, frightened poor Nellie almost out of her wits. Thinking that I was the cause of her trouble, because I was present, she would scream with fright at my approach. She was not an exception to that general rule which governs monkeydom, which is to suspect every one of doing wrong except itself.

I had her removed to my apartment, where I supplied her with bells and toys, and fed her on the fat of the land; and by this means we slowly knitted together the broken bones of our friendship once more. But when once a monkey has grown suspicious of you they never recover entirely from it, it seems, for in every act thereafter, however slight, you can readily see that they suspect you of it; but with great care and caution you can make them almost forget the trouble. While I kept Nellie at my rooms I made some good records of her speech on the phonograph, and studied her with special care; but as the province of this work is the speech of that little race, I must forego the pleasure of telling some intensely funny things with which she entertained me, excepting so far as they are relevant to speech.

A frequent and welcome visitor to my study was a bright little boy, about six years old, for whom Nellie entertained a great fondness, as she also did for my wife. At the sight of the boy Nellie would go into perfect raptures, and when he would leave her, she would call him so earnestly and whine 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 part of her attention to others when he was present. Some children living next door always found great delight in calling to see Nellie, and she always showed her pleasure at their visits. On these occasions, Nellie made it a point to entertain them, and always showed herself to the best advantage. When I wished to make a good record of her sounds, and especially of her laughter, I always 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 from his place of concealment and surprise her, whereupon she would laugh till she could be heard through the whole house; and in this manner I secured some of the best records I have ever made of the laughter of any monkey. When the boy would conceal himself again, I secured the peculiar sound with which she would try to attract his attention. The sound which she used in calling him or my wife was unlike that which she made for any other purpose; and while it is difficult to say whether the grammatical value of this sound is that of a noun or of a verb, it is evident that it was used for the special purpose of calling or attracting attention. If its value is that of a noun, it has not, in my opinion, any specific character, but a term which would be applied alike to boys, monkeys, horses, birds, or any other thing which she might desire to call. If in its nature it is a verb, it is equivalent to the name of the act, and combines the force of the imperative and infinitive moods.

The uniform expression of the emotions of man and Simian is such as to suggest that, if thought was developed from emotion and speech was developed from thought, that the expressions of emotion were the rudiments from which speech is developed.

A striking point of resemblance between human speech and that of the Simian is found in a word which Nellie used to warn me of approaching danger. It is not that sound which I have elsewhere described as the alarm-sound, and which is used only in case of imminent and awful danger; but this sound is used in case of remote danger or in announcing something unusual. As nearly as I can represent the sound by letters, it would be "e-c-g-k," and with this word I have been warned by these little friends many times since I first heard it from Nellie.

In the following experiment this sound was used with great effect. Nellie's cage occupied a place in my study near my desk. She would stay awake at night as long as the light was kept burning, and as I have always kept late hours, I did not violate the rule of my life in order to give her a good night's rest. About two o'clock one morning, when I was about to retire, I found Nellie wide awake. I drew my chair up to her cage, and sat watching her pranks as she tried to entertain me with bells and toys. I tied a long thread to a glove, which I placed in a corner of the room at a distance of several feet from me, but without letting her see it. I held one end of the string in my hand, I drew the glove obliquely across the floor towards the cage. When I first tightened the string, which I had drawn across one knee and under the other, the glove moved very slightly, and this her quick eye caught at the very first motion. Standing almost on tip-toe, her mouth half open, she would peep cautiously at the glove, and then in a low whisper would say "e-c-g-k"! And every second or so would repeat it, at the same time watching me, to see whether I was aware of the approach of this goblin. Her actions were almost human, while her movements were as stealthy as those of a cat. As the glove came closer and closer she became more and more demonstrative, and when at last she saw the monster climbing up the leg of my trousers, she uttered the sound aloud and very rapidly, and tried to get to the object, which she evidently thought was some living thing. She detected the thread with which I drew the glove across the floor, but seemed in doubt as to what part it played in this act. I saw her eyes several times follow the thread from my knee to the glove, but I do not think she discovered what caused the glove to move. Having done this for a few times, however, with about the same result each time, I relieved her anxiety and fright by allowing her to examine the glove, which she did with marked interest for a moment and then turned away. I tried the same thing over again, but failed to elicit from her the slightest interest after she had examined the glove.

It will be observed that when Nellie first discovered the glove moving on the floor, as she attempted to call my attention in a low whisper, and as the object approached me she became more earnest, and uttered the sound somewhat louder, and when she discovered the monster, as she regarded it, climbing up my leg, she uttered her warning in a loud voice, not a scream or a yell, but in a tone sufficiently loud for the distance over which the warning was conveyed. The fact of her whispering indicates that her idea of sound was well defined; her purpose was to warn me of the approaching danger without alarming the object against which her warning was intended to prepare me; and as the danger approached me, her warning became more urgent, and when she saw the danger was at hand her warning was no longer concealed or restrained.

Another sound which these little creatures use in a somewhat similar manner, is a word which may be represented by the letters "c-h-i." The "c-h" is guttural like the final "ch" in German, and "i" short like the sound of "i" in hit. This sound is used to give warning of the approach of something which the monkey does not fear, such as approaching footsteps or the sound of voices; and this sound Nellie always used to warn my wife of my approach when I was coming up the stairway. The rooms which I occupied while I kept Nellie were located on the second floor, and the dining-room was on the ground-floor; and hence there were two flights of stairs between, both of which were carpeted. So acute was her sense of hearing, that she would detect my footsteps on the lower stairway, and warn my wife of my approach. She manifested no interest, as a rule, in the sounds made by other persons passing up and down the stairway, which indicated that she not only heard the sounds of my footsteps but recognised them. The first intimation she would give of my coming was always in a whisper. She would first make the sound "c-h-i," and then she would stop and listen. She would repeat the sound and listen again, and as I would approach the door in the hall she would lift her voice to its natural pitch, and utter this sound three or four times in quick succession; and when I turned the door-knob she would show some excitement, and when I entered the room she would always express her satisfaction with a little chuckle. This sound she did not use except to announce something of which she was not afraid, but when she apprehended danger from the cause of the sound, she would use the word "e-c-g-k," and when greatly alarmed she would use the sound which I have described in the former chapter as that of intense alarm or assault.

Nellie was an affectionate little creature, and could not bear to be left alone, even when supplied with toys and everything she wanted to eat. When she would see me put on my overcoat, or get my hat and cane, she knew what it meant; and when she would see my wife, to whom she was much devoted, put on her cloak and bonnet, she at once foresaw that she would be left alone. Then she would plead and beg and chatter, until she sometimes dissuaded my wife, and she seemed aware that she had accomplished her purpose. I have watched her by the hour, through a small hole in the door, and when quite alone she would play with her toys in perfect silence, and sometimes for hours together she would not utter a single word. She was not an exception to the rule which I have mentioned heretofore, that monkeys do not talk when alone, or when it is not necessary to their comfort or pleasure; and while I am aware that their speech is far inferior to human speech, yet in it there is an eloquence that soothes, and a meaning that appeals to the human heart.