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A bearded man with a crutch was showing one or two visitors around,
and at a word from him a keeper unlocked a cage door, to allow a
young chimpanzee to leap into his arms. It hugged him, exhibiting
extravagant affection; it thrust out its absurd muzzle to kiss his
cheek, and patted him with its small, leathery, unpleasantly human
hands.
"It's just like any other baby," said the keeper, petting it.
"I sure hope it ain't like any _I_'ll ever have," said Nancy, so
naively that the man with the crutch laughed. He looked at her
keenly.
"Go over and see the baby lion," he suggested; and he added,
smiling, "It's got red hair."
"It can afford to have red hair, so long as it's a lion," said
Nancy, sturdily; and she added, reflectively: "I'd any day rather
have me a lion-child with red hair, than a monkey-child with any
kind of hair."
Somehow that blunt comment pleased Mr. Champneys. When he took his
charge back to their hotel that evening, it was with something like
a glimmering of real hope in his heart.


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