Minnie had a cousin Frank, the son
of Mr. Harry Lee. He was three years older than
Minnie, and was full of life and frolic.
At one time he came to visit Minnie;
and fine fun indeed they had with the pets, the monkey
being his especial favorite.
Every day some new experiment was
to be tried with Jacko, who, as Frank declared, could
be taught any thing that they wished. One time,
he took the little fellow by the chain for a walk,
Minnie gayly running by his side, and wondering what
her cousin was going to do.
On their way to the barn, they met
Leo, who at once began to bark furiously.
“That will never do, my brave
fellow,” exclaimed the boy; “for we want
you to turn horse, and take Jacko to ride.”
“O, Frank! Leo will kill
him. Don’t do that!” urged Minnie,
almost crying.
“But I mean to make them good
friends,” responded the lad. “Here,
you take hold of the chain, and I will coax the dog
to be quiet while I put Jacko on his back.”
This was not so easy as he had supposed;
for no amount of coaxing or flattery would induce
Leo to be impressed into this service. He hated
the monkey, and was greatly disgusted at his appearance
as he hopped, first on Frank’s shoulder, and
then to the ground, his head sticking out of his little
red jacket, and his face wearing a malicious grin.
Finding they could not succeed in
this, they went into the stable to visit Star, when,
with a quick motion, Jacko twitched the chain from
Minnie’s hand, and running up the rack above
the manger, began to laugh and chatter in great glee.
His tail, which had now fully healed,
was of great use to him on this occasion, when, to
Minnie’s great surprise, he clung with it to
the bar of the rack, and began to swing himself about.
“I heard of a monkey once,”
exclaimed Frank, laughing merrily, “who made
great use of his tail. If a nut or apple were
thrown to him which fell beyond his reach, he would
run to the full length of his chain, turn his back,
then stretch out his tail, and draw toward him the
coveted delicacy.”
“Let’s see whether Jacko
would do so,” shouted Minnie, greatly excited
with the project.
“When we can catch him.
But see how funny he looks. There he goes up the
hay mow, the chain dangling after him.”
“If we don’t try to catch
him, he’ll come quicker,” said Minnie,
gravely.
“I know another story about
a monkey-a real funny one,” added
the boy. “I don’t know what his name
was; but he used to sleep in the barn with the cattle
and horses. I suppose monkeys are always cold
here; at any rate, this one was; and when he saw the
hostler give the horse a nice feed of hay, he said
to himself, ’What a comfortable bed that would
make for me!’
“When the man went away, he
jumped into the hay and hid, and every time the horse
came near enough to eat, he sprang forward and bit
her ears with his sharp teeth.
“Of course, as the poor horse
couldn’t get her food, she grew very thin, and
at last was so frightened that the hostler could scarcely
get her into the stall. Several times he had
to whip her before she would enter it, and then she
stood as far back as possible, trembling like a leaf.
“It was a long time before they
found out what the matter was; and then the monkey
had to take a whipping, I guess.”
“If his mother had been there,
she would have whipped him,” said Minnie, laughing.
“What do you mean?”
The little girl then repeated what
her mother had told her of the discipline among monkeys,
at which he was greatly amused.
All this time, they were standing
at the bottom of the hay mow, and supposed that Jacko
was safe at the top; but the little fellow was more
cunning than they thought. He found the window
open near the roof, where hay was sometimes pitched
in, and ran down into the yard as quick as lightning.
The first they knew of it was when
John called out from the barnyard, “Jacko, Jacko!
Soh, Jacko! Be quiet, sir!”
It was a wearisome chase they had
for the next hour, and at the end they could not catch
the runaway; but at last, when they sat down calmly
in the house, he stole back to his cage, and lay there
quiet as a lamb.
Minnie’s face was flushed with
her unusual exercise, but in a few minutes she grew
very pale, until her mother became alarmed. After
a few drops of lavender, however, she said she felt
better, and that if Frank would tell her a story she
should be quite well.
“That I will,” exclaimed
the boy, eagerly. “I know a real funny one;
you like funny stories-don’t you?”
“Yes, when they’re true,” answered
Minnie.
“Well, this is really true.
A man was hunting, and he happened to kill a monkey
that had a little baby on her back. The little
one clung so close to her dead mother, that they could
scarcely get it away. When they reached the gentleman’s
house, the poor creature began to cry at finding itself
alone. All at once it ran across the room to a
block, where a wig belonging to the hunter’s
father was placed, and thinking that was its mother,
was so comforted that it lay down and went to sleep.
“They fed it with goat’s
milk, and it grew quite contented, for three weeks
clinging to the wig with great affection.
“The gentleman had a large and
valuable collection of insects, which were dried upon
pins, and placed in a room appropriated to such purposes.
“One day, when the monkey had
become so familiar as to be a favorite with all in
the family, he found his way to this apartment, and
made a hearty breakfast on the insects.
“The owner, entering when the
meal was almost concluded, was greatly enraged, and
was about to chastise the animal, who had so quickly
destroyed the work of years, when he saw that the act
had brought its own punishment. In eating the
insects, the animal had swallowed the pins, which
very soon caused him such agony that he died.”
“I don’t call the last
part funny at all,” said Minnie, gravely.
“But wasn’t it queer for
it to think the wig was its mother?” asked the
boy, with a merry laugh. “I don’t
think it could have had much sense to do that.”
“But it was only a baby monkey then, Harry.”
“How did it happen,” inquired Mrs. Lee,
“that Jacko got away from you?”
“He watched his chance, aunty,
and twitched the chain away from Minnie. Now
he’s done it once, he’ll try the game again,
I suppose, he is so fond of playing us tricks.”
And true enough, the very next morning
the lady was surprised at a visit from the monkey
in her chamber, where he made himself very much at
home, pulling open drawers, and turning over the contents,
in the hope of finding some confectionery, of which
he was extremely fond.
“Really,” she exclaimed
to her husband, “if Jacko goes on so, I shall
be of cook’s mind, and not wish to live in the
house with him.”