The Autobiography of a Monkey

And came with an elegant turnout
And took me to drive in the park.

And I took her out boating next morning,
For the face of my charmer was fair;
It carried me back to the jungle —
To the flow'rs that were blossoming there.

But soon, in the midst of my pleasure,
In the glow of a roseate dream,
The boat struck a rock and tipped over
And tumbled us both in the stream.

Then, ho, for the skill of the jungle!
The deftness of foot and of hand!
For I hung from a limb and I saved her
And drew her at last to the strand.

And then to her home I went proudly
To claim the fair maid for my own,
But her father demanded a title,
And hardened his heart like a stone.

And now came the death of my patron,
That left me alone in the strife,
And yearning once more for the jungle,
I turned to political life.

Part Fourth

THE RETURN PATH

Then I studied a week to gain knowledge,
And waded through volumes of stuff,
And I found that the only requirements
Were cunning and blarney and bluff.

And these I had brought from the jungle —
Inherited straight from my race —
With a gift for political music
And a truly political face.

Thus feeling at home in my labors,
My plan was successful, of course,
And when they came round with appointments
They gave me a job on "the force."

And such was my skill as a roundsman,
And talent in keeping the peace,
That I rose in a year to be Captain,
And then to be Chief of Police!

And then, as my years were advancing,
So great was their honor and trust,
That they twined me a chaplet of laurel
And sculptured in marble my bust.

Yet often I dreamed of the jungle —
Its song and the rustle of wing —
And sometimes still talked in my slumber
With Tusky, our elephant king.

When, lo, my political party,
That now was in power and supreme,
Conferred a most noble appointment
That realized all of my dream.

For they made me their African envoy,
And soon I went sailing again,
To meet my old playmates and tell them
The ways and the customs of men.

To calm the dusk native, and gather
My people in sun-haunted nooks
To tell them my story, and teach them
The wisdom that cometh of books;

The words and the ways of their fathers,
And deliver my race from its ban,
For man did not spring from the monkey,
But monkey descended from man!