As it grew she allowed it a little freedom, and usually it was very docile, obeying her every call; but when disobedient she would slap it and give it a box on the ear; but this seldom happened, for a monkey child is a model child and might serve as an example to many human children. But I think you would have found it extremely odd could you have seen her eat. She would frequently take fruit, or anything offered, with her long, prehensile tail, and curling the end around the object, would convey it to her mouth. She would eat almost everything eaten by her captors, but would not reject an occasional insect, spider, or even a young bird. Happiest when permitted to hang on the tree boughs, she would drink from the overhanging branches without touching the ground. In fact she was only perfectly at home when climbing around the trees, as she was comparatively awkward when on the ground, walking on all fours in a somewhat clumsy manner. Like all Spider Monkeys, she was of a gentle, teachable disposition, for all South American monkeys lack many of the mischievous and disagreeable traits of their African cousins, though as a rule they are not as bright and vivid in color and are duller and more indolent in their nature. On the other hand the American monkeys do little damage to man, for the vast forests which form their home (they are found in the warm countries of Mexico, Central and South America, and never in a very high altitude) provide for them so fully that they have no need of man’s help. The natives depend very much on monkey meat as a food and hunt them with bow and arrows, while travelers are often obliged to subsist upon monkey roasts for weeks together and do not find them very bad fare. Aside from the Miriki Spider Monkey, of which our little mother was so interesting a specimen, the traveling party from time to time encountered other species of the Spider Monkey, of which there are many. All have similar characteristics but vary somewhat in size and color. You will be interested to know that the monkey mother and her funny baby were finally brought in safety to the United States, where as far as I know, they are still living and are happy and much treasured pets. John Ainslie. NOVEMBER. Though I sorrow it to say, November is a churl alway, Miserly, beside the fire, Just outside the echoing choir, Sits he peevishly, and ponders On this life and all its wonders, Hearing through the grudging screen Organ notes, that slip between Prayers for dead men and dead hopes, While the priests, in ’broidered copes, Sing to heaven; yet not for him Goes up the incense or the hymn. Fie, November! —Walter Thornbury, “The Twelve Brothers.” Transcriber’s Notes --Reconstructed the Table of Contents (originally on each issue’s cover).