ny children on the premises, and they are jealous and
uncertain in their behaviour to children. Indeed I always regretted
their being either shot or caged--they enjoy life so intensely in the
jungle, and are so amusing, swinging themselves from the branches of
tall trees, leaping, flying almost, in pursuit of one another for mere
fun, that it was sad to put them in prison, where they never lived long,
and where they only exhibited a ludicrous and humiliating parody on the
habits of mankind.

There was a race of monkeys at Sarawak called by the natives "Unkah,"
from the noise they made, but which we called Noseys, for they had long
noses which fell over their mouths, so that the large males had to lift
their noses with one hand, while they put food into their mouths with
the other. When we first lived in the country, and were anxious to send
specimens of every new and curious thing to England, my husband shot one
of these large monkeys for the sake of his skin, but he was so
distressed at the look the beast gave him when he felt himself hit, he
was so like his own uncle in England, who had rather a red face and long
nose, that he resolved never again to shoot a monkey. This ape was
clothed in long brown fur, while his legs were encased in much shorter
hair of a tan colour, which gave the idea of leather breeches. I once
saw a monkey's nest in a high tree. The tree was very bare of leaf or
the nest might have escaped notice. It was formed of big sticks laid in
a strong fork of the branches; and whether it was lined with anything
softer could not be seen from below, but the sticks stuck out, covering
a large space, which had no appearance of comfort or snugness.

The one monkey I liked, and that at a distance, was the wa-wa, whose
voice was very sweet and melodious, like the soft bubbling of water; but
it was a very melancholy animal, and never seemed to possess the fun and
trickishness of the more common sorts of ape. They are all delicate and
difficult to rear, and invariably die of over-eating, or rather eating
what is unwholesome for them, if they have a chance. It seems as if, in
approaching the form of man, they lost the instinct of the brute. It was
a great addition to the pleasures of life in Sarawak that there were no
wild beasts to be feared in the jungles. When we were once staying at
Malacca, and, for the sake of a natural hot spring, inhabited a little
bungalow in the country, we were always liable to encounte