But Not to Them: The Sadness of the Jessfield Family There was only one caller at the Monkey House in Jessfield Park on Wednesday afternoon. A representative of this paper who chanced to be passing looked in to see how the captives were bearing up under the fate lately bemoaned by correspondents, and found the faimly in an atmosphere of deep melancholy, "Big Ben," thoughtfully musing in a coraer of his huge, spotlessly clean prison, roused himself at once and gave the wire netting a few hefty tugs, and one gathered that he would very much have liked to get out, perhaps for the purpose of writing a letter to the Editor in support of what correspondents have said. The poor fellow was compelled to resume his reflexions in a corner, expressing his thoughts in a series of mournful hoots. Not altogether a nice reception, but we have known worse in seeking an interview.
Meanwhile other members of the family were carrying on a conversation in monosyllables and amusing themselves as best they might. One of them was busy with his toilet, wonderfully performed in the attitude of a fly on the ceiling, and another seemed to be engaged in practising as a contortionist, possibly in the hope of one day catching the expert eye of some visiting circus proprietor. If the Council will provide his name, the writer is prepared to give him an excellent character for perseverance. Two more of the captives were deep in private conversation, afternoon gossip without tea—not even a nut—and a gentleman who appeared to be the senior member of the family, occupied the centre of the stage, with his head bowed down and covered with his arms,* as though posing for a new version of Watt's picture of "Hope," but a new version with a new title:
"Fed up." Another one sat motionless on the window sill, sadly anticipating another hopeless We agree with our correspondents in suggesting that something might be done to improve the amenities of the Monkey House. In respect of size, cleanliness and temperature the cages are admire able, but the monkeys evidently do not think so and are fast developing a tendency to confirmed melancholy. It is difficult, of course, to suggest simple means of amusement for the family. A swing or two, and a few branches upon which the animals could exercise ancestral talents instead of having to scale inhospitable wire walls, would no doubt be appreciated, and it is suggested also that a small house might be put in the corner of each cage.
some such additions io the comfort and pleasures of home are not made, there is risk of the whole family fading away. Indeed, just as the writer was about
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.