The World, New York, New York, page 19. Sunday, July 5, 1896.
The student of palmistry may learn something from a study of the pictures of hands herewith presented.
The smallest one is that of the baby monkey born ten days ago in the Central Park Zoo. The largest is a sketch of the hand of Nikola Tesla. One of the other hands is that of Johanna, who was well known to visitors to the Central Park Zoo last winter, and the other belongs to a New York baby that first saw the light of day last Sunday. all of them are life size.
The baby monkey is a wee mite, and its hand is small and insignificant. Few monkeys are born in captivity, and those which do come into the families of the bandarlog folk who live in cages rarely survive the teething period. Perhaps this baby monkey will have better luck, and it may live to be admired and respected for years.
Perhaps an expert palmist might examine the lines in the hand and thus tell whether the infant is what an insurance expert would designate as a "good risk."
There is great strength in the tiny fingers of the baby monkey. Those fingers, no larger than straws, can support the weight of the body all day long. The little one hangs to its mother's breast with remarkable tenacity, clasping the clawlike fingers in the hair.
In their wild state it is necessary for the baby to cling on while the mother climbs trees or runs through brush to avoid an enemy, and being captive does not change that ability. Should Mrs. Max escape from her cage and run through the park at her best speed and climb to the topmost branches of the tallest tree, the baby would be found hanging to her when the race was over.
Compare it with the hand of Baby Davis, of Caristadt, N. J., born last Sunday. It hardly seems possible that the two hands belong to the same species. While they are of the same general shape, there is a vast difference in the formation and in the size. And yet the baby boy will some time have a hand that will approximate the hand of Mr. Tesla in size, but it is doubtful if such a thumb will ever grow on the hand of the infant.
Mr. Tesla is proverbially modest, and he laughingly declined to allow a photograph to be made of his hand. The picture presented herewith was made from a sketch by an artist. The formation of the lines of the palm is interesting. The line of fate, which passes from the wrist down the palm, or the luck line, as it is sometimes called, is remarkably strong and clearly defined.
The line of life, which surrounds the base of the thumb, could not be better, and there is no reason why Mr. Tesla should not be making electrical experiments long after other men of his age have been gathered to their fathers.
But the remarkable feature of it is the thumb. Its length and breadth indicate logic, will, perseverance, reason--things which Mr. Tesla possesses to a notable degree.
If the baby monkey had a thumb which would rival the one on Mr. Tesla's hand, that baby monkey would be the brainiest ape that ever delighted children by eating peanuts. But no monkey ever had such a thumb, and few men can boast of one.