When Minnie was nine years of age, she accompanied her parents to a menagerie, and there, among other animals, she saw a baboon.  She was greatly excited by his curious, uncouth manoeuvres, asking twenty questions about him, without giving her father time to answer.  On their way home, she inquired,-

“Are baboons one kind of monkeys, father?”

“Yes, my daughter; and a more disagreeable, disgusting animal I cannot conceive of.”

“I hope you are not wishing for a baboon to add to your pets,” added her mother, laughing.

“I don’t believe Jacko would get along with that great fellow at all,” answered the child.  “But, father, will you please tell me something more about the curious animals?”

The conversation was here interrupted by seeing that a carriage had stopped just in front of their own, and that quite a crowd had gathered about some person who seemed to be hurt.

Minnie’s sympathies were alive in an instant.  She begged her father to get out, as possibly he might be of some use.

The driver stopped of his own accord, and inquired what had happened, and then they saw that it was a spaniel that was hurt.  He had been in the road, and not getting out of the way quick enough, the wheel had gone over his body.

The young lady who was in the buggy was greatly distressed, from which Minnie argued that she was kind to animals, and that they should like her.

The owner of the dog held the poor creature in her arms, though it seemed to be in convulsions, and wept bitterly as she found it must die.

Mr. Lee, to please his little daughter, waited a few minutes; but he found her getting so much excited over the suffering animal, he gave John orders to proceed.

During the rest of the drive, she could talk of nothing else, wondering whether the spaniel was alive now, or whether the young man in the buggy paid for hurting it.

The next day, however, having made up her mind that the poor creature must be dead, and his sufferings ended, and having given Tiney many admonitions to keep out of the road when carriages were passing, her thoughts turned once more to the baboon.

Mr. Lee found in his library a book which gave a short account of the animal, which he read to her.

“The baboon is of the monkey tribe, notwithstanding its long, dog-like head, flat, compressed cheeks, and strong and projecting teeth.  The form and position of the eyes, combined with the similarity of the arms and hands, give to these creatures a resemblance to humanity as striking as it is disgusting.”

“Then follows an account,” the gentleman went on, “of the peculiarities of different kinds of baboons, which you would not understand.”

“But can’t you tell me something about them yourself, father?”

“I know very little about the creatures, my dear; but I have read that they are exceedingly strong, and of a fiery, vicious temper.

“They can never be wholly tamed, and it is only while restraint of the severest kind is used, that they can be governed at all.  If left to their own will, their savage nature resumes its sway, and their actions are cruel, destructive, and disgusting.”

“I saw the man at the menagerie giving them apples,” said Minnie; “but he did not give them any meat all the time I was there.”

“No; they subsist exclusively on fruits, seeds, and other vegetable matter.  In the countries where they live, especially near the Cape of Good Hope, the inhabitants chase them with dogs and guns in order to destroy them, on account of the ravages they commit in the fields and gardens.  It is said that they make a very obstinate resistance to the dogs, and often have fierce battles with them; but they greatly fear the gun.

“As the baboon grows older, instead of becoming better, his rage increases, so that the slightest cause will provoke him to terrible fury.”

“Is that all you know about them?”

“Why, Minnie, in order to satisfy you, any one must become a walking encyclopaedia.  What other question have you to ask?”

“Why, they must have something to eat, and how are they to get it unless they go into gardens?”

Mr. Lee laughed aloud.  “I rather think I should soon convince them they were not to enter my garden,” he said, emphatically.  “But seriously, they descend in vast numbers upon the orchards of fruit, destroying, in a few hours, the work of months, or even of years.  In these excursions, they move on a concerted plan, placing sentinels on commanding spots, to give notice of the approach of an enemy.  As soon as he perceives danger, the sentinel gives a loud yell, and then the whole troop rush away with the greatest speed, cramming the fruit which they have gathered into their cheek pouches.”

Minnie looked so much disappointed when he ceased speaking, that her mother said, “I read somewhere an account of a baboon that was named Kees, who was the best of his kind that I ever heard of.”

“Yes, that was quite an interesting story, if you can call it to mind,” said the gentleman, rising.

“It was in a book of travels in Africa,” the lady went on.  “The traveller, whose name was Le Vaillant, took Kees through all his journey, and the creature really made himself very useful.  As a sentinel, he was better than any of the dogs.  Indeed, so quick was his sense of danger, that he often gave notice of the approach of beasts of prey, when every thing was apparently secure.

“There was another way in which Kees made himself useful.  Whenever they came across any fruits or roots with which the Hottentots were unacquainted, they waited to see whether Kees would taste them.  If he threw them down, the traveller concluded they were poisonous or disagreeable, and left them untasted.

“Le Vaillant used to hunt, and frequently took Kees with him on these excursions.  The poor fellow understood the preparations making for the sport, and when his master signified his consent that he should go, he showed his joy in the most lively manner.  On the way, he would dance about, and then run up into the trees to search for gum, of which he was very fond.

“I recall one amusing trick of Kees,” said the lady, laughing, “which pleased me much when I read it.  He sometimes found honey in the hollows of trees, and also a kind of root of which he was very fond, both of which his master insisted on sharing with him.  On such occasions, he would run away with his treasure, or hide it in his pouches, or eat it as fast as possible, before Le Vaillant could have time to reach him.

“These roots were very difficult to pull from the ground.  Kees’ manner of doing it was this.  He would seize the top of the root with his strong teeth, and then, planting himself firmly against the sod, drew himself gradually back, which forced it from the earth.  If it proved stubborn, while he still held it in his teeth he threw himself heels over head, which gave such a concussion to the root that it never failed to come out.

“Another habit that Kees had was very curious.  He sometimes grew tired with the long marches, and then he would jump on the back of one of the dogs, and oblige it to carry him whole hours.  At last the dogs grew weary of this, and one of them determined not to be pressed into service.  He now adopted an ingenious artifice.  As soon as Kees leaped on his back, he stood still, and let the train pass without moving from the spot.  Kees sat quiet, determined that the dog should carry him, until the party were almost out of sight, and then they both ran in great haste to overtake their master.

“Kees established a kind of authority over the dogs.  They were accustomed to his voice, and in general obeyed without hesitation the slightest motions by which he communicated his orders, taking their places about the tent or carriage, as he directed them.  If any of them came too near him when he was eating, he gave them a box on the ear, and thus compelled them to retire to a respectful distance.”

“Why, mother, I think Kees was a very good animal, indeed,” said Minnie, with considerable warmth.

“I have told you the best traits of his character,” she answered, smiling.  “He was, greatly to his master’s sorrow, an incurable thief.  He could not be left alone for a moment with any kind of food.  He understood perfectly how to loose the strings of a basket, or to take the cork from a bottle.  He was very fond of milk, and would drink it whenever he had a chance.  He was whipped repeatedly for these misdemeanors, but the punishment did him no good.

“Le Vaillant was accustomed to have eggs for his breakfast; but his servants complained one morning there were none to be had.  Whenever any thing was amiss, the fault was always laid to Kees, who, indeed, generally deserved it.  The gentleman determined to watch him.

“The next morning, hearing the cackling of a hen, he started for the place; but found Kees had been before him, and nothing remained but the broken shell.  Having caught him in his pilfering, his master gave him a severe beating; but he was soon at his old habit again, and the gentleman was obliged to train one of his dogs to run for the egg as soon as it was laid, before he could enjoy his favorite repast.

“One day, Le Vaillant was eating his dinner, when he heard the voice of a bird, with which he was not acquainted.  Leaving the beans he had carefully prepared for himself on his plate, he seized his gun, and ran out of the tent.  In a short time he returned, with the bird in his hand, but found not a bean left, and Kees missing.

“When he had been stealing, the baboon often staid out of sight for some hours; but, this time, he hid himself for several days.  They searched every where for him, but in vain, till his master feared he had really deserted them.  On the third day, one of the men, who had gone to a distance for water, saw him hiding in a tree.  Le Vaillant went out and spoke to him, but he knew he had deserved punishment, and he would not come down; so that, at last, his master had to go up the tree and take him.”

“And was he whipped, mother?”

“No; he was forgiven that time, as he seemed so penitent.  There is only one thing more I can remember about him.  An officer who was visiting Le Vaillant, wishing to try the affection of the baboon for his master, pretended to strike him.  Kees flew into a violent rage, and from that time could never endure the sight of the officer.  If he only saw him at a distance, he ground his teeth, and used every endeavor to fly at him; and had he not been chained, he would speedily have revenged the insult.”

    “Nature is man’s best teacher.  She unfolds
    Her treasures to his search, unseals his eye,
    Illumes his mind, and purifies his heart,-
    An influence breathes from all the sights and sounds
    Of her existence; she is wisdom’s self.”

    “There’s not a plant that springeth
      But bears some good to earth;
    There’s not a life but bringeth
      Its store of harmless mirth;
    The dusty wayside clover
      Has honey in her cells,-
    The wild bee, humming over,
      Her tale of pleasure tells. 
    The osiers, o’er the fountain,
      Keep cool the water’s breast,
    And on the roughest mountain
      The softest moss is pressed. 
    Thus holy Nature teaches
      The worth of blessings small;
    That Love pervades, and reaches,
      And forms the bliss of all.”