Identifier: fourhandedfolk00mill2 (find matches)
Title: Four-handed folk
Year: 1896 (1890s)
Authors: Miller, Harriet Mann, 1831-1918
Subjects: Animal behavior Monkeys
Publisher: Boston, New York : Houghton, Mifflin and Company
Contributing Library: New York Public Library
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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-will of a captive is pleasant to have,and indeed necessary if one would know itsways; but Koko, as I said, was too affectionate.His chosen seat was the top of ones head, butsince he w^as never allowed to occuj^y that formore than an instant, he contented himself withthe next desirable, namely, the shoulder of someone he liked. There he sat and dressed his fur,now and then giving a sudden lick on the cheekor ear of his victim, intended for a delicate at-tention, perhaps a kiss, sometimes varying thisby absent-mindedly snatching a handful of thehair so near him. These marks of his devotionbeing not very welcome, he was forced to take aseat not quite so near the face. Next in orderwas an arm, on which he sat by the hour, lick-ing the wrist as long as one could endure it, andscraping it with a push of his queer lower teeth.On somebody he was determined to be. Almost every sound Koko uttered was likethe voice of a pig. Going about the room con-tentedly, he constantly made a low sound like
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THE HALF-MONKEY. 63 oof! or woof! When anxious to get outof his cage the grunt was double, like the clraw-ino in and blowino- out of the breath in the sametone. His bark even was of a piggish quality.When angry or hurt, he gave a squeal and grunttogether, impossible to describe; and if rubbedand caressed, he showed his pleasure by a loud,rough purr. His cry of loneliness was truly pit-eous ; I heard it occasionally through the regis-ter. It was a sobbing, dismal sound, sometimeshalf a howl, sometimes with a retching quality.In uttering this he opened a small round hole ofa quarter-inch diameter, in the front of his veryflexible lips. If this cry is common with his tribein the wilds of Madagascar, I do not wonderthat the people are superstitious about them, andcall them spectres. No lament can be ima-gined more weird and heart-rending. At first,when I heard my pet cry thus, I ran hastilydownstairs, thinking something dreadful hadhappened; but the instant his eye fell upon me,the rogue

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