The Living Skeleton was described as a unique freak of nature—“Teaching us all how wise and wonderlul are the workings of Providence,” said the Professor, piously. “He is thin, ladies, but very—happy,” he added.
This was Bonypart’s cue to work off a long, wan smile, and he smiled accordingly. The effort so worked on the feelings of one of the younger pupils that she burst into tears, and offered the bone man her piece of cake.
Matty Cann looked eager, but the Professor smartly intervened.
“Excuse me, young lady,” he said suavely, “but visitors are requested not to feed the Living Skeleton. Living Skeletons are very delicately organised, madame,” he continued, addressing the teacher. “A dry biscuit has been known to throw them into violent dyspepsia and they have died of a rump steak.”
Bonypart groaned audibly and recovering himself, made another effort to smile, but failed, and sighed hungrily, whereat the younger pupil broke into a dismal wail, and had to be taken out and soothed with lemonade.
The fine collection of natural curiosities, illustrating the descent of man, was reserved for the last, and Professor Thunder proudly arrayed his company before the cages containing the tiny apes, the middling-sized gibbons, the baboon, Ammonia, the gorilla, and Mahdi, the man-monkey, or Missing Link.
The young ladies were quite enthusiastic in their admiration. They fed the Missing Link with spongecake and nuts, which he took from their hands and ate with a certain genteel decorum. His manner of cracking the nuts was much appreciated. Nickie was a specialist at nut-cracking, having made a special study of the subject at the Zoo.
Some of the girls said he was a “regular dear,” and threw him flowers, and frosty Miss Arnott relaxed her elbows a trifle, and admitted that this quaint creature was indeed entertaining and instructive—most instructive. She had never met a more instructive creature. And meanwhile Ammonia the gorilla shook the dividing bars, and reached fierce claws towards Mahdi, convulsed with jealousy, and inspired with a primitive yearning for nuts.
Professor Thunder spread himself in the delivery of his learned oration on the origin of the human race, beginning with Spider, and ranging up to the wondrous Missing Link. “Captured by my own hand in the jungles of Central Africa, ladies,” said he, with fine dramatic elocution and the attitudes of a leading man.
“You will observe that the creature is kept in semi-darkness, that is because he is accustomed to the thick shades of his native forests. He is very docile, excepting when attacked or irritated”—(descriptive growls from the Missing Link)—“when he displays extraordinary activity in pursuit of his foes”—(display of extraordinary activity by Madhi, swinging on the bar, racing round the cage, roaring, &c.). “He is very human in his appearance, as you will observe, and is much more upright