The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1881-11-05
Temple BARI
The Majors Monkey.

luo MlnJUl mVuh0y'
When La very young subaltern, first Joined
nv regiment 1.-THE royal Manx fusileers) the
depot had been for some six months sta
toned at the delightful town of PallynOggin,
county Longford, Ireland.
snppose nv brother officers had by that
time contrived to exhaust all the resources
of the neighborhood in the way OF amuse-
ment, for on my arrival L found them re-
dueed to three topics of conversation. First,
snpe shooting-a bog with bird in II lying
within reach; a second, the sayings and do
ings of the three Miss McCrans, dazzling
beauties daughters of the local solicitor, who
kept car ge" and resided in stucco villa
with "Castelamare" painted ON the little
green gate, on which the manly forms OF
two or more of the royal Manx were gener-
ally to be seen lounging, in conversation
with the lovely Ger'ldine or Nora; third,
Major Marillier's monkey, and why he kept
it
The snipe became bore now and then,
ones interest in Gerldine's bewitching
Irishism's or Norah's conqaests might even
flag occasionally, but the mention of Congo's
name or of his latest iniquity brought ex-
element into our --LATEST moments directly.
Congo was beautiful little creature, with
long, soft fur, dark face and paws, and gen.
tie. mournful eyes, the temper of wild cat
and the morals of an imp of darkness. He
was supposed to reside in house, made OF
a wine case, in Carmody, the majors SER
wants room; but except for the purpose oil
secreting his plumber in the straw, never
vas found there by any chance.
Every device that the mind of man could
conceive, and Carmody hit upon fresh one
once a week at least, failed to secure him.
He bit through leather and rope. united
knots, picked locks, dislocated chains and
always ended by flying like a demon spider,
up and down every passage and staircase IN
the place -Carmody swearing in his wake
till he gained some coign of vantage whence
it was impossible to dislodge him.
To appreciate he situation one should
have known the Major.
He was a sedats and digni6ed parsonage
about 40, very quiet and rather precise and
''old maidish'' in his ways. / always sus-
pected that he considered himself created by
nature to be the regular pattern OF the Brit
ish officer and gentleman, and intended his
demeanor and conversation to be instructive
studies for us youngsters-each was so per-
feet in it's way. l can't imagine why we
didn't detest him. l think we were rather
proud of him and considered him credit to
the res,ifncfft, He tiao.sa5lAly- good,
kind hearted fellow, al fond, and it was
generally understood that he could, II he
chose, do anything better than anybody else.
He didn't often choose and generally held
aloof from our sports and pastimes, not only
refusing 20 enter his horse for our steeple
chase, but actually refusing to lend him to
Miss Norah McCran for the same occasion.
His dress was study of cut and color,
from the pal ting of his hair to the toes OF
his boots; but think his rooms impressed
me most such combination of military
precision with feminine prettiness; trophies
of warlike weapons; lace founces to his
shelves and chimney-board; tiger-skins,
crewel work, anti-macassars, military models
and plans, and old china. He had some
valuable engravings and photographs about,
and over the fireplace hung large water
color sketch, ''Brockwood," Leicestershlre
"a magnificent old baronial residence
which, without the slightest foundation for
the idea, we all agreed to be the majors
birthplace or inheritance, of which he had
been somehow wroDgfully deprived.
There was big writing table surrounded
by laden book shelves, at which he spent
most of his spare time, celebrating and re-
Fising his great works on tactics, of which
we were wont to speak with respectful adj
miration. Now imagine over this scene OF
peaceful propriety four-armed fiend, ram
paging, leaving destruction in his train;
PLAYING all manner of impish pranks, hiding
ed, in the majors boots; swallowing every
stud he possessed under the delusion they
were bon bons; or bombarding him with
freshly-corrected proof-sheets, crumplea and
chewed into pellets-and you'll have some
notion of the never-failing zest the existence
of Congo gave to life in Ballynoggin.
Why did he keep itp
Some of Congo's performances turned him
livid with rage, but never drove him to con-
Al. 80 xrsla oYsa
"Every man has his pet extravaganza, he.
was won't to say, smiling sereney. 81 sup
pose Congo is mine"
| never but once saw Major Marillier
nearer to being excited than when rumor
that Congo was lost arose.
He wasn't, the beast; he had as many hid
ing holes as a maybe. My bed was one,
and there he was found, lin company with
Carmody's blacking-5rush, and of the ma
jor's immaculate CATERS, and the big OWLS
head with the red glass eyes that ssed to
adorn Miss Lavinia McCran's hat) just in
time to prevent his master from bursting
into tears or offering e100 reward, either of
which seemed imminent.
What did it mean?
We specialized, argued, betted, nearly
fought over it, so disproportionate grew the
excitement in the dull stagnation of our
lives in BallynoggiD, and got no nearer the
truth. Once the solution of the enigma
seemed within our grasp-thanks to Terence
O'Flaherty
He was local "squireen,' proprietor of
the aforementioned bog, whom, in default
of other society. we used to invite continu
ally to mess.
He was heavy enough when sober; later
on great ON home rule and the departed glo
ries of Ireland and his family, 'the fghiin'
Flahertys," duelists of note in the brave days
of old. when Castle Flaher;y was kept up i'll
princely style, and the clar't in the cellars
would have flooded the country for miles
around.
O'Flaherty was mixing himself some
whisky and water one evening before depart /
ing, romancing the while gloriously, when
suddenly a black figure descended with
swing and bound from somewhere, alight-
ing on O'Flaherty's shoulders-Congo, OF
course. He clawed fast at o. Flaherty's hair
with one hand and plunged the other into
the scading brew, presumably in search OF |
sugar: then chattering wrsthfully, upset the |
boiling mixture on O'Flaherty's legs and |
vanished with lock of his hair.
O'Flaherty's language was forcible; well it |
might be. Mariller apologized in the hand |
soonest manner, but the blood of the descend |
ant If the s'fighhn' Flahertys" was up, and |
mere words had no power to appease him. |
He demanded the instant execution of |
Congo, or the satisfaction of a gentleman.
"Are those your only alternatives" asked |
the major gravely.
"They are," clustered Terence.
''Then l accept the latter" said Marillier, |
unhesitatingly.
''You are gentleman, bedadr' exclaimed |
O'Flaherty, suddenly sobered. Sand if you |
think that dirty little haste worth fghtin' |
about, Terence O'Flaherty's not the man to |
begrudge you the pleasure. Still, I'd be ready |
to overlook 1t, and let bygones be bygones if |
you'd give me one single dacent reason for |
keeping the baste."
A pause, during which we all grew breath |
less with excitement.
Marillier looked as imperturable as ever |
off one reason will afford you satisfaction, |
Mr.. 0Flaherty, L don't see how can in |
fairness refuse you. I keep the beast be-
expect him some day to be worth |