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Updated: June 4, 2025
To such a declaration as this, modesty forbade any reply, and the two went on in silence to the cabin door, closely followed by the white-nosed gourmand. Outside the lean-to was a bench, roughly modelled on Amberley's recollection of the settle outside his mother's kitchen door.
"I hated that Mona monkey. If it hadn't been for him, I should have married the little white-nosed monkey; as it was, she ran away, and married one of her own tribe." "I always said," the old mother monkey remarked, who had looked on at the death from a safe corner. "I always said that Mona was unlucky." "Yes," jeered the red monkey, "but you also said that he would never come to much harm.
In Mona's eyes she was absolutely beautiful, and her long tail nearly black at the top and dwindling to a peculiar greyish hue at the bottom was another source of admiration to him. The little white-nosed monkey was a born flirt; graceful, petulant and coquettish to a degree, and she knew perfectly well from the very first that Mona admired her.
"Look at the laughing faces around you." "But it is not funny," said the Angel. "No, indeed," returned his dragoman. "Be so good as to carry your eyes now to the stage on the right, but not for long. What do you see?" "I see a very red-nosed man beating a very white-nosed man about the body." "It is a real scream, is it not?" "No," said the Angel drily.
For one thing, he was a Mona monkey, and the families or tribes in the Senegal forest are very particular about keeping together. There was one monkey, of another family, that Mona took great interest in, and this was a little white-nosed lady-monkey.
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