was the least greedy of all the animals I have ever seen. He never
would snatch anything, and always ate very slowly. He always drank
a lot of water, which he would always get himself whenever he
wanted it by turning on a tap. Strange to say, he always turned
off the water when he had finished drinking.

PLAYING TO THE GALLERY. "John seemed to think that everyone was
delighted to see him, and he would throw up the window whenever he
was permitted. If he found the sash locked he would unfasten it,
and when a big crowd had collected outside he would clap his chest
and his hands. [Footnote: In the summer of 1920 a globe-trotter
just arrived from England excitedly reported to me: "While driving
along a street in London _I saw a live gorilla_ in the upper
window of an apartment. It was a _real gorilla;_ and it
clapped its hands at us as we looked! Now _what_ did it all
mean?" Fortunately I was able to explain it.]

PUNISHMENT AND REPENTANCE. "We made one very great mistake with
John. His cage was used as a punishment, with the result that we
never could leave him there alone, for he would shriek all the
time. . . . Now, a stick was the one thing that our gorilla would
not stand from anyone, save Major Penny and myself. Presently we
found out that the only way to deal with him was to tell him that
he was very naughty, and push him away from us; when he would roll
on the floor and cry, and be very-repentant, holding one's ankles,
and putting his head on our feet.

AFFECTION FOR A CHILD. "He was especially fond of my little niece,
three years old. John and she used to play together for hours, and
he seemed to understand what she wanted him to do. If she ever