Mine Own People
Book Description
The orang-outang in the big iron cage lashed to the sheep-pen began the discussion. The night was stiflingly hot, and as Hans Breitmann and I passed him, dragging our bedding to the forepeak of the steamer, he roused himself and chattered obscenely. He had been caught somewhere in the Malayan A rchipelago, and was going to England to be exhibited at a shilling a head. For four days he had struggle...
MoreThe orang-outang in the big iron cage lashed to the sheep-pen began the discussion. The night was stiflingly hot, and as Hans Breitmann and I passed him, dragging our bedding to the forepeak of the steamer, he roused himself and chattered obscenely. He had been caught somewhere in the Malayan A rchipelago, and was going to England to be exhibited at a shilling a head. For four days he had struggled, yelled, and wrenched at the heavy bars of his prison without ceasing, and had nearly slain a Lascar incautious enough to come within reach of the great hairy paw. It would be well for you, mine friend, if you was a liddle seasick, said Hans Breitmann, pausing by the cage. You haf too much Ego in your Cosmos. The orang-outang sarm slid out negligently from between the bars. No one would have believed that it would make a sudden snakelike rush at the German sbreast.
(Typographical errors above are due to OCR software and don't occur in the book.)
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