The late hours which I kept were beginning to tell on Nellie, and from time to time during the day I caught her taking a nap. I determined to use some curtains to avoid disturbing her rest. Drawing them around the cage, I lapped them over and pinned them down in front. Then I turned down the light and kept quiet for a little while to allow her to go to sleep. After the lapse of a few minutes I quietly turned up the light and resumed writing. In an instant the curtains rustled. Looking around, I saw her little brown eyes peeping through the folds of the curtains, which she gracefully held apart with her little black hands. When she saw what had caused the disturbance she chattered in her soft, rich tones, and tried to pull the curtains farther apart. I arranged them so she could not look around the room. To see her holding the curtains apart in that coquettish manner, turning her head from side to side, peeping and smiling at me and talking in such low sweet tones, was like a real flirtation. One who has not witnessed such a scene cannot fully appreciate it. Only those who have experienced the warm and unselfish friendship of these little creatures can realize how strong the attachment becomes. The love of these little creatures is proof against gossip, and their tongues are free from it. Among the many captives of the simian race who spend their lives in iron prisons, adding to the wealth and gratifying the cruelty of man,--not to expiate any crime,--I have many little friends. I am attached to them. So far as I can see, their devotion to me is as warm and sincere as that of any human being. I must confess that I am too obtuse to discern in what way the love they have for me differs from my own for them. I cannot see in what respect their love is less sublime than human love. I cannot discern in what respect the affection of a dog for a kind master differs from that of a child for a kind parent. I fail to see in what respect the sense of fear of a cruel master differs from that of the child toward a cruel parent. It is mere sentiment that ascribes to the passion of a child a higher source than the same passion in the dog or the monkey. The dog could have loved or feared another master just as well. Filial love or fear reaches out its tendrils just as far when all the ties of kindred blood are removed. It has been said that for one we are able to assign a reason _why_, while the other feeling is a mere impulse. I am too dull to understand how reason actuates to love, and instinct to mere attachment. I do not believe that in the intrinsic nature of these passions there is any essential difference. Whether it be reason or instinct in man, the affections of the lower animals are actuated by the same motives, governed by the same conditions, and guided by the same reasons as those of man. I shall long remember some of my monkey friends, and I feel sure that, far away in the silent niches of their memory, some of them have my image enshrined.