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THE MONKEYS.
83
rascally thieves—and stole my food. I couldn’t
get further than my chain would permit me,
and there was no stretching that link of
friendship which existed between my collar and my
kennel (the iron-knitted chain, you will
understand) ; so it occurred to me that if I could
not pursue the thieves, I would attract them
instead, and that might do just as well. So I
feigned death, lay stiff and stark and
motionless, till I got the feathered fools, that were
not slow to come, quietly settled feasting on
my dinner, which I suppose they considered
my funeral treat. When they had gorged
themselves well, so that they could hardly fly,
and hopped quite unconcernedly amongst my
rigid limbs, I suddenly got hold of one in my
claws."
" And killed him ?" said the baboon.
" No, stupid; I am too refined for that sort
of thing. My revenge was more superfine than
that! What do you think I did ?"
"I know!" said the baboon. "I know;
no, I don’t!" he added good-humouredly, very
nicely imitating the nigger buffoon—by instinct
I suppose.
" No,—I plucked him !’
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