se servants they had become, found it pleasant, as he sat there
perched in his little montaria, like an exceedingly ancient and
overgrown monkey, guiding it safely down the waters of the great river
of the Tocantins.

Some months have passed since we last parted from our daring
adventurers. During that period they had crossed an immense tract of
country, and reached the head-waters of one of the many streams that
carry the surplus moisture of central Brazil into the Amazon. Here they
found an old trader, a free mulatto, whose crew of Indians had deserted
him,--a common thing in that country,--and who gladly accepted their
services, agreeing to pay them a small wage. And here they sorrowfully,
and with many expressions of good-will, parted from their kind friend
and entertainer the hermit. His last gift to Martin was the wonderfully
small marmoset monkey before mentioned; and his parting souvenir to
Barney was the bluff-nosed dog that watched over him with maternal care,
and loved him next to itself;--as well it might; for if everybody had
been of the same spirit as Barney O'Flannagan, the Act for the
prevention of cruelty to animals would never have been passed in
Britain.

It was a peculiar and remarkable and altogether extraordinary monkey,
that tiny marmoset. There was a sort of romance connected with it, too;
for it had been the mother of an indescribably small infant-monkey,
which was killed at the time of its mother's capture. It drank coffee,
too, like--like a Frenchman; and would by no means retire to rest at
night until it had had its usual allowance. Then it would fold its
delicate little hands on its bosom, and close its eyes with an
expression of solemn grief, as if, having had its last earthly wish
gratified, it now resigned itself to sleep. Martin loved it deeply, but
his love was unrequited; for, strange to say, that small monkey lavished
all its affection on Barney's shaggy dog. And the dog knew it, and was
evidently proud of it, and made no objection whatever to the monkey
sitting on his back, or his head, or his nose, or doing in fact whatever
it chose whenever it pleased. When in the canoe, the marmoset played
with Grampus, as the dog was named; and when on shore it invariably
travelled on his back.

Martin used to lie in the canoe half asleep and watch the little face of
the marmoset, until, by some unaccountable mental process, he came to
think of Aunt Dorothy Grumbit. Often did poor M