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 wires, and the woman is usually too frightened to snatch back. They are, however, rarer than the male glove, being less frequently carried loose.

Spectacles and eye-glasses, as I have hinted, afford fairly good sport, although the larger kinds are apt to get into complications with the wires. In all cases of difficulty with the wires, whether with glasses or other goods, the only expedient is a mighty tug; something is sure to come through, whatever smashes, and often you get the lot. I once got a pair of gold-rimmed glasses on the end of a tortoiseshell stick complete, from a most offensive old woman—only got through with a reckless tug. Bonnets, and feathers and flowers therefrom must, of course, be grabbed from above, high up the wires. A good, comprehensive grab at a bonnet often results in a splendid haul. You get bonnet, feathers, flowers, fruit, little birds, bonnet pin, and—with any luck—a lot of false hair, all at once. Indeed, in the matter of quantity, nothing, in my opinion, beats a bonnet—you fetch away all kinds of things with it, and you never know how much you'll get. Always remember, however, after each transaction, no matter in what goods, immediately to seek the very top of the cage. It is the safest place. I am the only monkey in this cage who ever got a man's wig; he was looking for something in his hat. It was a most fraudulent wig, showing a genuine bald spot in the most artful fashion; I wore it—or as much of it as I got through—round my neck for several days, and the people said I was a new species.

There is one object of my ambition, however, still unattained—I have never snatched a set of false teeth. I mean to do it some day, though, and am watching my opportunity day by day; and when I have them I will lay them at the feet of—ah! there is my confession. She doesn't want false teeth, having a very capital set of her own; but, as a token of undying affection, what a glorious thing would be a set of false teeth—in gold—to offer the adorable creature in the cage a little further along! May the raptures of a devoted lover be pardoned if once more I contemplate that sad and lovely face, that angelic form,