great stir everywhere," continued Pwit-Pwit. "It has affected Dozel to tears. I left her just now weeping over the misfortunes of the little Limping Boy."

At this Mr. Kelly began to snivel and moan, while two tears rolled down his hairy nose.

"Hello, there! What's the matter with you?" demanded Pwit-Pwit.

The monkey made no reply, but began limping around his cage, moaning and shedding tears, as though heart-broken.

"Oh, I see," said the sparrow, "you're sorry for the little Limping Boy, too."

"I have a fellow-feeling for him," answered Mr. Kelly, and went on with his moaning.

"Why, you—you miserable upstart!" exclaimed Pwit-Pwit, ruffling up his feathers in indignation.

The sparrow would have said more but for the sudden change in Mr. Kelly's manner. The monkey had come back to the front of his cage, and was touching the side of his head with the forefinger of his right hand.

"What are you up to now?" he demanded.

"Saluting my unfortunate distant relation," said Mr. Kelly, who then went on moaning and weeping worse than before.

For a moment the sparrow's indignation was such that he seemed to be deprived of speech. He looked at Mr. Kelly, and then at the little Limping Boy, and then at the monkey again. Then he ruffled up the feathers of his neck angrily, and said:

"Do you mean to say that you believe yourself to be related to this boy, who will grow into a man some day?"

"That's the tradition in our family," said Mr. Kelly, "and you doubtless know that tradition is the basis of all history. Besides, that's what a very celebrated man once said in a lecture at the theater where I acted, and he had me on the stage with him for an illustration—so he said. Any one can see that there isn't much difference between a monkey and a man, except the clothes. Look for yourself."

And Mr. Kelly placed his right elbow in his left hand, and rested his chin on his right hand, just as the little Limping Boy was doing.

Pwit-Pwit looked from one to the other, and the resemblance was so startling that for a moment he was at a loss what answer to make. Then he caught sight of the monkey's tail, which Mr. Kelly was trying hard to conceal behind him.

"Aha!" chirped the sparrow, exultantly; "what about the tail?"

"None of your business, you meddlesome, gossiping little wretch!" screamed Mr. Kelly, in a passion. And he made a grab for Pwit-Pwit through the wires of his cage, but could not quite reach him.

"Be careful," warned the sparrow. "Remember the Law."

"Know this once for all, you insignificant bearer of tales," snarled Mr. Kelly. "Mahmoud himself has said that he was in doubt whether I was of the Menial People, or whether I stood between the two worlds. Ere long I shall compel him to proclaim that I am neither the one nor the other, but that I am of the Master People. So beware!"

But Pwit-Pwit nearly burst his sides with laughter.

"Do you know what Dozel says about you?" he said finally; "the beautiful young Indian doe at whom you have been making eyes through the wires of your cage ever since she arrived?"

Mr. Kelly suddenly turned very pale. Noticing this, the sparrow went on relentlessly:

"She says that you and all your tribe are chattering, screaming nobodies."

For a moment the blow seemed almost more than Mr. Kelly could endure.

"Aha, Mr. Kelly," said the sparrow, insolently, "chattering, screaming nobodies! What do you say to that?"

At this taunt Mr. Kelly nearly exploded with passion. He clenched his hand and shook it at the sparrow, and screamed at the top of his voice:

"Jocko! Jocko! Do you hear? This meddlesome wretch of a sparrow says we are chattering nobodies."

Jocko, the tottering old baboon in his cage on the other side of the Lion House, turned blue in the face with anger.

"Catch him and pull out his tail feathers!" he screamed. "Never mind the Law."

But Pwit-Pwit kept well out of Mr. Kelly's reach. By this time, the little, long-tailed monkeys with black caps and high-pitched voices, living next door to Jocko, were chattering and shrieking at a fearful rate. The sparrow flew about from one cage to another, hurling taunts at the enraged creatures, enjoying himself immensely.

When, at length, the monkeys had chattered and shrieked themselves hoarse, Mr. Kelly commanded them to be silent while he arranged for a final settlement of the dispute. He walked in a dignified manner about his cage until he had recovered his breath, and then said sternly to Pwit-Pwit:

"You are only a foolish little bird, with a great deal to learn. While we care very little for your opinion, it is well that this matter should be settled. Is there any one among all the Menial People whose word you will accept as the eternal truth?"

"Yes," answered the sparrow, promptly. "There is Caliph, the old hippopotamus. He is very old and very wise, and he always tells the truth—which is more than can be said of monkeys."

"Very well," said Mr. Kelly, calmly, "go and ask Caliph if it is not true that the first man and the first monkey were made out of the same lump of clay long, long ago on the banks of the river Nile. Tell him to lift up his voice when he answers, so that all can hear."

"Agreed," said Pwit-Pwit; "and when you hear old Caliph's answer prepare to hang crape on your door-knob, for it will mean the death of your absurd ambition."

Then, while Mr. Kelly continued to walk about his cage in a dignified manner, the sparrow, followed by Toots and the Princess, flew quickly to the Hippopotamus House. Straight up to the edge of the deep pool in which Caliph lay, with only an island of black back and his two bulging nostrils showing above the surface of the water, hopped Pwit-Pwit.

"What, ho! Caliph!" chirped the sparrow, "come forth from thy meditations and give ear to a matter of consequence concerning all the Menial People."

At first Caliph only blinked his small eyes. Pwit-Pwit bobbed his head at the monster with evidence of vast respect, and said in a louder voice:

"Greeting, O master of the deep! It is concerning the general welfare that I come to disturb thy reflections on the glorious past. The pretensions of the monkeys have grown past all bounds, so that there is menace to the general peace. The trouble happened in this wise: Mr. Kelly, who is only a poor sort of monkey, at best, claims kinship with the Master World, whereat there is much discontent and not a little jealousy. He avers that the first monkey and the first man were made out of the same lump of clay on the banks of the Nile. Is this the truth? Speak, I pray you, in tones that may be heard by all, that the trouble which threatens