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His movements became feverish, erratic, irrational. He traveled in strange directions and by strange means, by bullock-cart, by burro, by dug-out, sometimes on foot and sometimes on horseback. Sometimes he stayed over night at a rubber-gatherers' camp, sometimes he visited a banana plantation, bought a fresh horse, and pushed on again.

And he kept on eating, until more than half of the fruit was gone. "Drop down just one to me!" pleaded the Tortoise. "Yes, in a minute," mumbled the Monkey. The Tortoise did so. The Monkey then told him to open his mouth, and he obeyed. Now, the Monkey was sitting on a banana-leaf, directly over the Tortoise; but, instead of banana, he dropped his excrement into the Tortoise's mouth.

The monkey gave the image a kick with his foot and his foot remained stuck fast in the wax. "O, peddler boy, peddler boy," the monkey cried, "let go my foot. Let go my two hands and my foot and give me a banana or else I'll give you a kick with my other foot." The image of wax did not let go.

Avoiding that shed, with its black smoke and the warbling of soft, feminine voices, Dain would turn to the left. There, on the edge of a banana plantation, a clump of palms and mango trees formed a shady spot, a few scattered bushes giving it a certain seclusion into which only the serving women's chatter or an occasional burst of laughter could penetrate.

A tradition of the African Odshis, already named, relates that formerly God was very near to men. But a woman, who had been pounding banana fruit in a mortar, inadvertently entering His presence with a pestle in her hands, aroused His anger, and He withdrew into the high heavens and listened to men no more.

He then dragged the box about, apparently trying to get it into his cage, but he gave no attention to the poles nor did he make any evident effort to obtain the banana which was easily visible in the center of the box. The period of observation was only twelve minutes.

Chief among these were the use of the various boxes separately or in pairs in very varied positions but never with one upon another, the only way in which the banana could be reached; climbing to various points on the sides of the cage, with infrequent attempts to reach the banana. Usually his eyes saved him the vain effort. Unlike the child, Julius paid little attention to the six-foot stick.

Anna would conceal a bit of banana peel in her muff and, dropping in upon a station platform, would put her heel upon it and fall prostrate, uttering a groan of pain.

She could have gone to her room and found the solitude she craved, but she wanted movement, and the night was so beautiful that it called to her irresistibly. The moon was at the full, she could see the blue of the sea under its crystal flood. The blades of the palm trees glittered like sinister weapons unsheathed. She could outline every leaf of palm, cocoanut, and banana that fringed the shore.

But any pleasant day-dreams he may have cherished of tropical luxuries, of the indulgence of a farniente life in a grass hammock, gently balanced by Javan houris beneath banana shades, of spice-laden breezes and cool sherbets, and other attributes of a Mahomedan paradise, were speedily dissipated by the odious realities of filth and vermin, marsh-fever and mosquitoes.