The cook of a French nobleman whose chateau was in the south of France, had a monkey, which was allowed the free range of the kitchen, and which was so intelligent, that by pretty severe training its natural propensity to mischief had been subdued, and was even taught to perform certain useful services, such as picking fowls, for instance, at which it was uncommonly expert. One fine morning a pair of partridges was given it to pluck. The monkey took them to an open window of the kitchen, which looked directly upon the park, and went to work with great dilligence. He soon finished one, which he laid on the outer ledge of the window, and then went quietly on the other. A hawk, which was watching the proceedings from a neighboring tree, darted down upon the plucked partidge, and in a minute was up in the tree again, greedily devouring his prey.
 The consternation of the monkey at this untoward adventure may be easily imagined. He knew he should be severely whipped for losing it. He hopped about in great distress for some minutes, when suddenly a bright thought struck him. Seizing the remaining partidge, he went to work with great energy, and stripped off the feathers. He then laid it on the ledge, just where he had placed the other, and closing one of the shutters, concealed himself behind it. The hawk, which by this time had finished his meal, very soon swooped down upon the partidge, but hardly had his claw touched the bird, when the monkey sprang upon him from behind the shutter. The hawk’s head was instantly wrung, and the monkey, with a triumphant chuckle, proceeded to strip off the feathers. This done, he carried the two plucked fowls to his master, with a confident and self-satisfied air, which seemed to say, “Here are two birds, sir, just what you gave me.” What the cook said, on finding one of the partridges converted into a hawk, is more than we are able to tell.
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