The little apes called càyí are scarce a span long, when full grown; they are merry, playful, and, if tamed young, extremely docile. But they can seldom be allowed to walk up and down the house at large, for, wanting to touch and taste every thing, they throw down ink-stands and other vessels, spill liquors, tear books, and break every thing made of glass. They put their fingers into boxes, lamps, and jugs, smell them, and dirt the table and people's clothes. They steal every thing fit to eat that they can lay hands on. They are, therefore, tied with a long slender cord in such a manner that they may be able to go up and down. We had a little ape of this kind in the town of St. Joachim, which readily unclasped the men's spurs when they returned from riding. I have seen others take a journey seated on the back of a dog, and by mimicking the actions of men, like buffoons, excite both anger and ridicule. It is, therefore, no wonder that apes of this kind should be prized both by Indians and Europeans, and bought at a high price. Potatoes are their daily fare, but they also feed sometimes on flesh, bread, or any thing made of flour. Great care must be taken not to give them too large a portion, otherwise they will eat till they burst. In the woods, when quite young, they are carried about on the backs of their mothers, round whose necks they put their arms, like infants, and in this manner are borne along the boughs of trees, wherever there is any chance of finding food. An Indian, therefore, who wants a live ape, kills the mother with an arrow, and the little one never suffers itself to be torn from her without howling. I will tell you something still more surprizing, and which seems almost incredible. The Guaranies sometimes remain in the woods four days together, employed in hunting wild beasts. Having killed a number of apes, they consume part of them on the journey, and roasting the rest to prevent their growing putrid from the heat of the sun, carry them to the town to be eaten at home. The little apes, which are kept alive for diversion, know their mothers when roasted and blacker than a coal, and adhere so tenaciously to their shoulders, that their running away is not the least to be apprehended. Who does not admire the filial affection of these animals, which, though imitators of mankind in other respects, may certainly be their instructors in this? BARBUDOS.