MARTIN RATTLER. 139

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 wonder-
fully small marmoset monkey before mentioned ; and
his parting souvenir to Barney was the blutf-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