Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net ALSO BY _CLARENCE DAY_ THE CROW'S NEST THOUGHTS WITHOUT WORDS GOD AND MY FATHER IN THE GREEN MOUNTAIN COUNTRY SCENES FROM THE MESOZOIC LIFE WITH FATHER THIS SIMIAN _WORLD_ _by_ CLARENCE DAY _With Illustrations by the Author_ _New York & London_ ALFRED.A.KNOPF 1936 COPYRIGHT 1920, BY CLARENCE DAY _All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine or newspaper._ _Published May 22, 1920_ _Reprinted Nine Times_ _Eleventh Printing, March, 1936_ _Manufactured in the United States of America_ "How I hate the man who talks about the 'brute creation,' with an ugly emphasis on _brute_.... As for me, I am proud of my close kinship with other animals. I take a jealous pride in my Simian ancestry. I like to think that I was once a magnificent hairy fellow living in the trees, and that my frame has come down through geological time via sea jelly and worms and Amphioxus, Fish, Dinosaurs, and Apes. Who would exchange these for the pallid couple in the Garden of Eden?" W. N. P. BARBELLION. _THIS SIMIAN WORLD_ _ONE_ Last Sunday, Potter took me out driving along upper Broadway, where those long rows of tall new apartment houses were built a few years ago. It was a mild afternoon and great crowds of people were out. Sunday afternoon crowds. They were not going anywhere,--they were just strolling up and down, staring at each other, and talking. There were thousands and thousands of them. "Awful, aren't they!" said Potter. I didn't know what he meant. When he added, "Why, these crowds," I turned and asked, "Why, what about them?" I wasn't sure whether he had an idea or a headache. "Other creatures don't do it," he replied, with a discouraged expression. "Are any other beings ever found in such masses, but vermin? Aimless, staring, vacant-minded,--look at them! I can get no sense whatever of individual worth, or of value in men as a race, when I see them like this. It makes one almost despair of civilization." I thought this over for awhile, to get in touch with his attitude. I myself feel differently at different times about us human-beings: sometimes I get pretty indignant when we are attacked (for there is altogether too much abuse of us by spectator philosophers) and yet at other times I too feel like a spectator, an alien: but even then I had never felt so alien or despairing as Potter. I cast about for the probable cause of our difference. "Let's remember," I said, "it's a simian civilization." Potter was staring disgustedly at some vaudeville sign-boards.