strength. While Dohong pulled on the lever, Polly braced her
absurd little back against the wall, and pushed upon it, with all
her strength. At first nothing gave way. The combined strength
exerted by the three brackets was not to be overcome by prying at
the horizontal bar itself. It was then that Dohong's inventive
genius rose to its climax. He decided to attack the brackets
singly, and conquer them one by one. On examining the situation
very critically, he found that each bracket consisted of a right-
angled triangle of wrought iron, with its perpendicular side
against the wall, its base uppermost, and its hypotenuse out in
the air. Through the open centre of the triangle he introduced the
end of his trapeze bar, chain and all, as far as it would go, then
gave a mighty heave. The end of his lever was against the wall,
and the power was applied in such a manner that few machine screws
could stand so great a strain. One by one, the screws were torn
out of the wood, and finally each bracket worked upon was torn
off.

But there was one exception. The screws of one bracket were so
firmly set in a particularly hard strip of the upright tongued-
and-grooved yellow pine flooring that formed the wall, the board
itself was finally torn out, full length! The board was four
inches wide, seven-eighths of an inch thick, and seven feet long.
Originally it was so firmly nailed that no one believed that it
could be torn from its place. [Footnote: In the Winter of 1921
about a dozen newspapers in the United States published a
sensational syndicated article, occupying an entire page, in which
all of Dohong's lever discovery and cage-wrecking performances
were reported as of recent occurrence, and credited to a stupid
and uninteresting young orang called Gabong, now in the Zoological