Rensselaer Union, Volume 1, Number 30, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 April 1869 — Selected Miscellany. [ARTICLE]

Selected Miscellany.

THE GORILLA’S LOVE STORY. My article on the origin of the human species had been months in preparation. Much of the fame which I hare since secured by its publication in that widely circulated magazine, the lnterooeanic Monthly, is due to tne foot that I spent weeks in deep investigations in ethnological sciences, comparing results, and especially examining the points of resemblance which exist in the brute creation and the nobler race of man. To say that I utterly overthrew the Darwinian theory, and quite demolished the tribe of pretenders who have since attempted to imitate that great apostle of error, may not be strictly in aooordance with modesty, but hosts of candid friends will admit that it is strictly true. 1 I know very well that, though my untiring labors in the cause of science are not yet thoroughly appreciated, an admiring posterity will dwell with delight on the name of Samuel Simcoxas the benefactor of his race, who showed where that race had its birth, and from what primitive element it sprang. For farther particulars see the Interoceanic Monthly for June, 18 My favorite haunt during the progress of my article was Coriander’s menagerie; having resolved that this should be the master-piece of my life, I spared neither labor nor expense upon it, and actually procured a season ticket to the menagerie and passed many-pleasant hours in watching the wild animals, studying their habits and drawing many valuable conclusions from their points of resemblance and difference. Consequently, though the apes and monkeys had furnished mo with an inexhaustible fund of amusement And inWas delighted beyond measure when it was announced that Coriander had secured a live gorilla for his collection of wild beasts. An agent had been dispatched to Africa ana had sent home, with great secrecy, a real live specimen of this dreadfal beast j and so well had all the negotiations been kept that nobody knew of what was being done until the monster was fairly caged and on exibition at Coriander’s menagerie. I entered with zest upon a study of the creature’s habits and peculiarity*; and while the idle curiosity of mere wonder-mongers kept a vast crowd abqptthe.cage wherein the furious beast wni oohfined, I calmly surveyed it from a safe distance and made my scientific observations for the benefit of mankind. And when vulgar wonder at the strange beast had some what subsided, and I could get nearer the cage and watch the gorilla, I was more ana more impressed with the human trails which I discovered in the extraordinary animal. His manner of reclining was, though impish, half human; and his grotesque gait, as he sprang from side to side of his narrow prison, was suggestive of his suppositious congenermas ; even bis terrible howl, which rent the air of the museum constantly, had a human shade of sound. * * Ojpe rainy day, when the great hall of the museum‘Was unusually vacant of visl.tora, I almost leaned against the cage in my eager watch of the movements of the gorilla. him roaming his native African iungles, the terror of every living Bearing, with a strange and grofaie, his young family. I wonmuch akin to human love and (he passions that raged beneath breast, and how much of real * in the loud and anguished occasionally bunt from those ijs. Thus speculating, I drew the bars of the cage 1 monster restlessly paced up «od was inexpressibly startled b« hot breath on my cheek ‘ huge hairy lips came the aaesaSsaagat seechiMly aaid: “ Hush, hu«h. for Heaven ■ sake do not leave me I” Mustering courage enough to ask him what all this meant the gorilla answered; “Ism your old triend, Jack Oslo; don’t leave me.” 8b Corlandcrs famous gorilla was nous other than my old crony, Jack Qaje.

And this is how Jack happened to be a gorilla: Coriander's keepers were too watchful to permit much conversation, but taking from the gorilla—for such he still was to me—the address of Jack Qale, No. 1,283 Morusmulticaulis street, 1 went home to revise some of my deductions rolative to the origin of the human species, founded on observations of the gorilla in a state of comparative wildness. The menagerie closed at 10 o’clock in the evening, and precisely at half past ten I was at Jack’s lodgings, to which I climbed up four flights of crooked and very dark stairways. The room was small and cheerless; the windows were carefully guarded by thick curtains: three or four swinging bars depended from the ceiling for the practice of its inmate in acrobatic exercises; across the foot of the bed lay a well dressed gorilla’s skin, and at a small table, and absorbing the contents of a pot of beer, sat the wearer of this discarded robe. This was the haunt of the African gorilla. He told his story in a few words. “ When you and I were u9ed to talk with each other along the Tallapoosa and Athens wire, I never thought to meet ycu as a live gorilla; but here I am. After the war was over, and the Government discharged so many telegraph operators, it was hard scratching for a while; and after you and I left the Decapolis office, I was well nigh broke more than once, only a few cents standing between me and beggary. But I kept a stiff upper lip, and struggled up to Cincinnati, where I met with Coriander. He was out there with his menagerie, and was about to come on to this city and open a big show. He is a great old villain, but he has the sweetest, nicest little daughter that ever was given to man. You haven’t seen Clara Coriander, have you? Not Well, you have not seen the loveliest and best girl in the world, then. But, as I was saying, old Coriander was preparing for a year’s campaign in this citv, and allotted a great deal on a real, live gorilla which had been captured in the wilds of Africa somewhere. Oh, curse that gorilla; I wish I had been dead before ever I heard of him.” And here Jack groaned. “I loved Clara Coriander. I suppose you have guessed that out already. But it was the old story; poor young man, without fortune or friends; cruel parents determined that their only daughter shall not marry a beggar; young lady Inconsolable and devoted to aforesaid poor young man, but dreadfally afraid of papa, whose only child she la Well, Coriander came on here and I followed, the old man giving me the job of writing his posters and advertisements—to keep me .from starving, I suppose. The long expected Gooroo arrived from Zanzibar, but no gorilla was thereon board for Mr. Coriander ; there was a skin of that celebrated animal, the beast himself having departed this life off the Island of St. Helena, in imitation of the example of another much feared person who once resided in that locality. “ Coriander ' was frantic. The great card for his menagerie was not tobc his. His long cherished plans were a wreck; his money was spent for naught; he had no gorilla After all, I rather like the old wretch (Coriander I mean). He has an absolute passion with his ' profession,’ as he calls it, and was more In despair because he had no gorilla, than because it was a bad financial operation, which left him without that for which he had spent so much money. He was wretched in his disappointment, and postponed -indefinitely the opening of the menagerie, though my elegant advertisements were in all the papers, and our flaming posters covered the walls of the city from one end to the other. Gloom reigned in the house of Coriander.

“ This was my opportunity. I was in loTe with Clara and without any permanent occupation. Presenting myself before the old man, I said : 1 Mr. Coriander, you want a gorilla f’ “ ‘ To be sure,’ said he testily. “ 1 1 will furnish you with one.’ “' The devil you Villi’ ' “ ‘Look here,’ said back a old wardrobe that stood in the room, I swung myself up, clambered along the top, sprang up and down, over chairs and tables, raced around the room with huge strides and jumps, and finally wound up my performances by rushing at the astonished Coriander, and, beating my breast, gave a terrific howl that fairly made the old man quail as he writhed in his chair. I had not been practising for nothing, evidently. Coriander was actually frightened. “ ‘ What does this mean ?’ he gasped, with some rage mingled with his perturbation. ‘“lam the live gorilla from the wilds of Africa,’ said I. ‘ Give me my skin that arrived by the Gooroo from Zanzibar, and I will scare this city out of its senses, when the menagerie opens, after a brief delay on account of the difficulty of preparing for enormous additions, which a discriminating public will be delighted to see.’ “Old Coriander embraced me, with tears in his eyes, declaring that I was a real genius and was born to the show business. “ ‘ But,’ said I, * though I am poor and need the money which you will pay me, I have one other condition, and that is that you shall give me your daughter’s hand if I succeed.’ “ The old man was rather taken back at this, and flatly refused at first; and we wrangled over the matter for two or three days, but, after seeing me, in the skin of the gorilla, go through many antics and performances, he reluctantly gave in and agreed that after one year of gorilla life in his service, I should have the happiness of marrying Clara. He only stipulated that I should not hereafter tell anybody of the cheat and that not even Clara should know of it now. “ I am aware that my profession is not high art, as you call it, and on hot days it is precious uncomfortable. But what won’t a follow do under the pressure of an exchequer in distress, and enticed by the promise of the hand of the prettiest and best girl in the world I The pay is not mtych, but I keep soul and body toS ether, which is more than some poor evils do in this great city. By the way, Sam, have you got fire'dollars about you f” Now, if there was anything that Jack Gale specially loved, it was the state of being in debt He was never so happy as when in debt, and when by accident, or the interference of friends, he got out of it he was uneasy and wretched, apparently, until he got in again. The normal condition of the man was debt; so when he asked me for a loan, I could not help laughing: and I told him that he had undoubtedly found one of the gmtwt

privations of his gorilla life to be the difficulty of contracting new debts. “That’s a fact,” said Jack (“the menagerie opens at eight o’clock in the morning ; it takes me a good hour to get myself up for the day, and we don’t shut up until ten o’clock at night; so you see my professional duties are very eonflning, and a real, live African gorilla is not supposed to have first-rate credit with the people who poke stale sandwiches and peanuts through his cage-bars by day.” I promised Jack that if old Seanecks, of the Interoceanic Monthly, accepted my article on the origin of the human species, I would divide the proceeds with him. Jack and I had shared and shared alike with our little gains too often in years gone by for me to remember which owed the other new. Besides, I told him that I had studied his habits as a gorilla, and he had some claim upon the profits of an article in which his personal peculiarities figured so largely. During the next few days I observed the characteristics of Coriander’s African gorilla with new interest. He performed wonderfully well; it was difficult to realize that the hairy, ravening, agile and gro-tesquely-moving beast, from which every visitor shrank back aghast, was only Jack Gale serving out his hard servitude for an anticipated bride, very much after the ancient fashion of Laban’s kinsman. The cunning rascal had a fashion of leaping at the bars when curious people came too near, driving them away from a narrow inspection by his hideous yells and angry mouthings. But his roars, which were" really artistic in their brutal sonorousness, served us a good purpose. As I was night editor on the Daily Highflyer, and kept pretty close from ten until three o’clock in the morning, and Jack was caged until the hour at which I went to work, it was not easy for us to meet. So we exchanged the salutations of the day and a few scraps of news by using our old signals, learned long ago in the telegraph office. Instead of the rat-tat-tat of the little instrument so familiar to both of us, Jack, by a series of long or short howls and grunts, gave me his message, to which I replied by careless taps of my cane or hand, nobody suspecting that my casual movements meant anything, nor supposing for an instant that a sudden burst of African forest yells, which sent a fat lady nearly into hysterics, and made two small children howl with apprehension, merely meant “ She with the pink bonnet is my Clara.” And it must be confessed that Clara Coriander was an exceedingly attractive young person. Blonde, light in figure, and with one of those fair, transparent complexions that make you think of a light shining through an alabaster vase, Clara Coriander was certainly as lovely a girl as one ever lay eyes upon. Besides, she was an only daughter, and old Coriander had grown rich in the menagerie businesss. Jack was a lucky dog (gorilla, I should say) to gain her hand—if he ever did; but one could not help thinking, as he noted her dainty manner and delicate, somewhat distingue face, that she was hardly the girl to saucy a fellow who had personated a gorilla, even for her hand. I was afraid that Jack had made a mistake in thus debasing himself or the absurd passion of her cruel parent for the possession of a gorilla. Moreover, by debarring himself her society for the greater portion of the time (Sundays only excepted), he left the field open for some more fortunate rival who might, in the meantime, carry off the prize. But Jack felt sure that he was all right, and by a precious bit of deception he had led Clara to believe that he was hard at work, night and day, at some legitimate calling, earning money for hie future ambitious designs in life. The poor little thing believed in him, but Jack said it was very hard for him to be obliged to see his beloved flirting, right before his eyes at the menagerie (for the girl had a taste for natural history, and was there of ten), with some perfumed dangler who was in love with her pretty face and old Coriander’s money. On these occasions he hated himself, for his mean disguise, gay party in such dreadfal fashion as sent them quaking from his cage; and then he pursed himself for having driven away his lovely angel, and was smitten with sudden remorse as he saw her rosehued cheek blanch at his terrific cries. At such times he could with difficulty restrain himself from shouting: “ Don’t be frightened, dear, it’s only Jack I” But he was fortunately preserved from each an untimely exposure. Old Seanecks was very mean, and, though he accepted my article on the Origin of the Human Species, only paid me the pitifal sum of twenty dollars for that valuable contribution to knowledge. Twenty dollars for the labor and thought of weeks I Was ever anything so absurd? And there was Jack confidently expecting at least twenty-five dollars to purchase a birthday present for Clara. Jack loved to make presents, and the deeper he got into debt the more presents did he bestow on his friends. Such another whole-sonled fellow as he was, to be sure But I pocketed the disappointment along with the money, and went straightway to the menagerie. There was quite a crowd about Jack’s cage, standing at a respectful distance. In his capacity as the real African gorilla, Jack had just avenged himself on a aaugereus rival by snatching off his matchless wig. This gentleman had long deceived his friends with his ambrosial locks, but Jack’s quick eye had discovered the cheat, and he seized a favorable moment to make a grab for it. To his inexpressible joy, it came off in his paw, and the discomfited gallant stood with his bare poll in the presence of the giggling and amused Clara Coriander. The amateur gorilla was in a frenzy of delight, and tore up and down his cage, scattering Mr. Jonquil's chestnut curls with savage glee. Old Coriander afterward had to pay for his wig of course, but he was so delighted with the stroke of showman genius displaced in Its destruction that, he paid the bill without a murmur. None but a wild and savage animal, of course, would “ snatch a gentleman bald-headed,” as the old man expressed it I suppose some of my readers who now recollect the bccurrence, will agree with Mr. Coriander in his opinion. After the little crowd which this amusing affair had drawn around the cam had dispersed in various directions, I drew near enough to hand Jack a ten dollar note, whicn was his share of the proceeds of my article in the Interoceanic Monthly. He snatched it furtively, for the keepers were not far off. and cramming it into his ferocious jaws (lined with blood-red vel vet), he howled in his usual staccato style. ' Didn’t I scalp old Jonquil, though f’ One of the keepers approaching me said suspiciously, “ Look-a-here, young man, entWy frw ifot pjf?

beast. He’s awful, he is, and some day he’ll just go for you, If you ain’t keerfal. Why, this arternoon, he jest tore a gentleman’s skslp clean off his head, and he was {pore out in a falntln condition. Jest see the hsiir of him all scattered over the cage.” I humbly thanked him for the caution, and drew off, asking for information as to the creature’s habits. He was very communicative,and enlightened me with much valuable knowledge relative to his diet, averring that he was Invariably fed before the menagerie was opened, the raw meat and live rabbits which he devoured exasperating him by their blood to that degree, that it was not safe for any person but a keeper to come Into his sight The gorilla enjoyed this confidential communication, and roared his approval thus: “He is the head liar of this menagerie.” Jack and I kept up a casual correspondence from day to day by means of our telegraph signals, for I had little time to see nlm when off duty. Occasionally I strolled in of an evening to commiserate his fearful ennui and cheer him with a friendly sign, or when opportunity offered to chat furtively with the man gorilla, who swore dreadfally at the bad bargain which he made. His confinement was growing excessively irksome, and though his constant exercise kept him in good bodily health, poor Jack lost his spirits and grew positively wretched In mind. One night, when I managed to find time to visit him at his “ den ” in Morusmulticaulis street, he grew plaintive over his unhappy condition. “ Hang it, Bam,” said he, “ you have no idea how mad it makes me to think that I have shut myself up in that cage for a year and with no chance of getting out without telling Clara what I have been doing. And there she goes pottering about the menagerie, like a blessed little angel as she is, without the least idea that Jack, unhappy Jack, is glowering at her frow his accursed gorilla prison, longing to say the words that would bring confasion and dismay upon all of us. And then when I see some other fellow flirting around with her, and old Coriander leering over her head at me, knowing fall well how aggravated I am, why, it just makes me wild.”

I comforted Jack as well as I could, and bade him hope that some stroke of luck would yet deliver him from his voluntary thraldom and bring him to his love. He was hopefal that old Coriander would find the gorilla business unprofitable and would offer to buy him off, or consent to shorter terms. He vowed one day that unless relief soon came, he would address the crowd about his cage and inform them that he was an unmitigated humbug; that he was no gorilla at all, bnt a distressed gentleman, John Gale by name, temporarily held in duress by that old rascal, Columbus Coriander. But he restrained himself and waited. It was well that he did. One evening, finding an unemployed half hour at my disposal, I sauntered into the menagerie hall, and watched the poor weary beasts slowly composing themselves to their unquiet slumbers. It was nearly time to elo9e the show for the night, and not many people were left to stroll about among the cages. Old Coriander was there with his fat wife, the lovely Clara floating about in a cloudy white drees, and followed by a train of admiring swains. The poor gorilla was stretched at fall length on the floor of his cage, with' his face sullenly turned to the rear partition. Passing by the poor fellow, with a little pang of regret, I stopped before a cage of apes, poor Jack’s next door neighbors. No wonder that he felt bine sometimes. Suddenly there wss a rush of hurrying feet; a strange confaslon pervaded the whole place lately so quiet and still, and above the pungent odor of the menagerie, I detected that of burning wood. The place was en fire and instantly everybody ran for the exits. The hall was filled with blinding smoke; the red tongues of flame thrust themselves eagerly through the thin partitions which separated the main exhibition hall from the lumber-rooms in the rear. And the people who rushed selonly from the flames, but from the poor beasts who cowered In their cages or roared angrily as they caught the mad excitement, around them. The scenß was terrible; the craciling, roaring fires sweeping out into the long room; the wild terror of the caged animals; the shrieks and cries of flocks of suddenly liberated strange birds, and the surging clouds of smoke which rolled through the high arches overhead. Passing _neai°the gorilla’s cage I heard Jack’s voice, as he yelled with stentorian lungs: “Will nobody let me out? Oh, will nobody let me out ?” Quick as thought I ran behind his cage, and unfastened the narrow flap that closed the opening. In another moment the African gorilla was out and across the hall, to where a blonde young lady in a white dress was being helplessly borne along by old Coriander, also encumbered by the stout mother of Miss Clara, for Jack had seen fast his beloved was In mortal danger. Raising the fainting girl in his strong arms, the hairy monster rushed down the stairs, astounding the coming firemen with the sight of a ferocious gorilla carrying off a respectable young lady, whose flaxen curls lay lovingly over the dreadfal shoulders of the beast, which, with ludricious failure, endeavored to caress the palid face of the young lady with his hairy jaws, stiff with padding and whalebone, and nicely lined with blood-red velvet.' The gorilla fled up the street, bearing his dainty burden—for, once in sight, he could not stop without exposure. Plodding travelers on the illuminated sidewalks were startled by the swift apparition of a gorilla carrying off a young lady, who was borne into dark alleys to be eaten in the obscurity of some hidden den. Casual wayfarers through the dark streets shrieked and ran as they beheld a flaming dragon, leaping with enormous strides, and carrying the corpse of a nice young person hanging over his shoulder. Good Mrs. Harris, who keeps the lodging-house at No. 1288 Morusmulticaulis street, fell in a deadly swoon at her own doorway, as she was returning from class meeting, to see the evil one, equipped with the traditional head,horai and tail—breathing fire and sulphurous smoke, and violently deporting a beautiful young lady, who had for love of dress and other worldly vanities, sold herself to Old Nick. Vaulting over the prone body of the insensible Mrs. Harrir, Jack eluded his few pursuers, and darted up stairs to his own private den, wherf be shut and locked himself and his fair burden from the world. The lovely Clara revived shortly, and opening her eyes shut them again with a great scream. She was in the den of the African gorilla. There was more fainting, and more anguish on the part of Jack, Vfec cursed bts luck and his folly toother.

“It’s Jack, It’s only Jack," he cried with real agony as he tore off his mask, and the young lady, slowly returning to her senses, once more opened her eyes and beheld her lover, a real African gorilla from his his chin downward, but possessing a very resolnte, yet anxious human head—very like Jack Gale’s with the scalp and grinning jaws of the defanct monster hanging behind his ears. This was ah extraordinary situation; a nice young lady in a strange garret, confronted by an erratic yonng man in semigorilla costume; his countenance flushed with excitement and exercise; his eyes wild with anxiety and alarm; his whole manner that of a person who is in a state of utter quandry. The truth of history compels me to record the fact that Mias Clara Coriander threw up her hands and laughed as if she would die. She was a sensible girl and liked a good joke. Old Coriander’s plans were laid bare to her clear vision in one moment; she saw through the whole trick and laughed in the face of the astonished Mr. Gale. “ Oh, Jack,” said she, as soon as she could recover her breath, “ how could you be such a fool ? where am I ? How shall I ever get home ? Oh, oh, oh.” To all of which Jack could only reply in installments. But, by secluding the young lady on the stairway, be succeeded in preparing for their return to the Coriander mansion. Through the half-deserted, streets the young couple went in different guise from that in which they had before astonished those who saw them flee. The gorilla delivered np the old man’s daughter, and was glad to be told that the menagerie, not quite ruined, must needs be closed for a few months for repairs. The show opened again in due season with new attractions, under the management of Coriander and Gale. But in all the lines of cages of rare beasts, no Afri can gorilla was to be found. In lieu thereof they showed a handsomely stuffed skin of the much lamented beast which came to an untimely end in consequence of a cold caught by exposure at the great menagerie fire. Coriander’s heart relented when Jack saved his daughter from the burning building, and he found his inventive genius invaluable in the show business. I have seen the only young gorilla born on the American soil, of which there is any account It has pink cheeks and blue eyes, and is learning to answer to the name of Clara Gale. —Overland Monthly.