The City Jungle Read Online Free PDF Page B

talked together. “Dear R.-R.,” of late, and as a joke. They were done with joking now.
    Peter the chimpanzee sat before Eliza, observing her with his big professorial eyes. He pursed the black lips of his strong protruding mouth. Whenever he did that, he looked as if he were about to make some sagely humorous remark. But he never said anything and had to keep all his epigrams to himself. He understood that Eliza was sad. To cheer her up, he selected a doll from among his playthings, a black Pierrot, seized it by the arm and threw it gently at Eliza.
    A challenge to play.
    Eliza remained unmoved. The doll slipped from her lap, fell to the floor and lay with its arms outspread like the dead lad in the elephant house.
    Eliza looked down at the Pierrot. “Ah, Peter,” she said, “you will never see poor, good R.-R. any more. Never again will he bring you bananas and grapes. He is dead.”
    Peter scratched his head reflectively and turned a quiet somersault.
    Eliza gazed at him, her eyes filmed with tears.
    For almost a year she had been taking care of this good-natured funny fellow. When she came he had been nervous and quarrelsome; now he was quiet and tractable. He had lain sick in her arms. But for several months now he had been well and happy. The little monkey, always up to some knavish prank or other, possessed as tender and gentle a soul as the very best children to whom Eliza had been nurse. He had never angered her, never done anything to spite her, never put on airs before her, like so many human children. Behind his low brow, or (who can really say?) perhaps in his hairy black breast, there was hidden a pious grati­tude for Eliza, a boundless trust in his keeper, a feeling so powerful that no other could compete with it.
    Peter got up and came over to Eliza, walking erect on his flat feet. He looked as if he were trying to think of some means of cheering her up. Suddenly he sprang on the big wooden ball that lay in his path, and, started it rolling, balancing delicately, danced on it.
    The crowd of people who were waving and applauding outside the cage he ignored entirely. His eyes peered quickly at Eliza, who continued to weep quietly.
    Instantly Peter grasped one of the flying rings, and swinging himself over, clambered up to the roof. For a while he crouched there, dangling, then with a terrific plunge he was on the floor again in front of Eliza.
    Outside from the visitors came a many-voiced cry of fear. Peter merely blinked contemptuously. He crouched down, and laying his long arms carefully in Eliza’s lap, gazed pityingly at her.
    Eliza stroked his head wearily and sighed. “Ah, my good Peter, what can you know after all?”
    She remembered how, about two years ago, the curator had been the guest of Dr. Wollet where she was employed as a nurse. “If you ever leave your situation,” he said to her, “come to me, I may have a place for you.” Later she had left the Wollet children, and recalling the curator’s invitation, came to see him, quite unaware that he wanted her for Peter, the chimpanzee. But she had said yes, and until today had had no regrets.
    Peter sat up, and flinging his arms around her neck, drew her down to him and with lips absurdly pursed kissed her cheek. A kiss as soft as a sigh, a pathetically understanding kiss.
    Raucous laughter. Eliza resisted gently with, “That’s enough, thanks, Peter.” She recalled how long it had been before Peter had bestowed the same mark of favor on nice Rainer Ribber.
    Poor R.-R.! She wept more bitterly. He was so modest, so terribly shy, that he infected others with his own embarrassment. And yet he had such determination, knew so definitely what he loved and what he hated. Oh, yes, he could hate, too. Eliza had often been afraid when he said grimly, “I don’t like him!” as he shut his eyes and his features grew tense. Once he had said it so fiercely behind Karl’s back that