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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/17429-8.txt b/17429-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bc0b87a --- /dev/null +++ b/17429-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2361 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Story of Dago, by Annie Fellows-Johnston + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Story of Dago + +Author: Annie Fellows-Johnston + +Illustrator: Etheldred B. Barry + +Release Date: December 31, 2005 [EBook #17429] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF DAGO *** + + + + +Produced by David Garcia, Richard J. Shiffer and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Kentuckiana Digital Library.) + + + + + + + + + +THE STORY OF DAGO + +BY + +ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON + + +[Illustration: "IT WAS HER SWINGING AND JERKING ON THE ROPE THAT RANG +THE BELL."] + + +THE STORY OF DAGO + +BY + +ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON + +AUTHOR OF "THE LITTLE COLONEL," "BIG BROTHER," +"OLE MAMMY'S TORMENT," "THE GATE OF THE +GIANT SCISSORS," "TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS +OF KENTUCKY," ETC. + +Illustrated by + +ETHELDRED B. BARRY + + +BOSTON +L.C. PAGE & COMPANY +1900 + + +Copyright, 1900 + +BY L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY +(Incorporated) + + +TO + +"Gin the Monk" + +WHOSE PRANKS ARE LINKED +WITH THE BOYHOOD MEMORIES OF DR. GAVIN FULTON, +ONE OF THE BEST OF PHYSICIANS AND FRIENDS, +THIS STORY OF DAGO +IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED + + +CONTENTS + + PAGE + + I. THIS IS THE STORY THAT DAGO TOLD TO THE MIRROR-MONKEY + ON MONDAY 1 + + II. WHAT DAGO SAID TO THE MIRROR-MONKEY ON TUESDAY 16 + + III. WHAT THE MIRROR-MONKEY HEARD ON WEDNESDAY 32 + + IV. THE TALE THE MIRROR-MONKEY HEARD ON THURSDAY 46 + + V. WHAT DAGO TOLD ON FRIDAY 60 + + VI. WHAT DAGO SAID TO THE MIRROR-MONKEY ON SATURDAY 72 + + VII. WHAT DAGO TOLD THE MIRROR-MONKEY ON SUNDAY 92 + +VIII. DAGO BIDS FAREWELL TO THE MIRROR-MONKEY 102 + + +ILLVSTRATIONS + + PAGE + +"IT WAS HER SWINGING AND JERKING ON THE ROPE THAT RANG THE +BELL" _Frontispiece_ + +"THE GARDENER FISHED HER OUT OF THE FOUNTAIN" 9 + +"HER HANDS WERE FOLDED IN HER LAP" 19 + +MATCHES'S FUNERAL 25 + +"SHE FAIRLY STIFFENED WITH HORROR" 43 + +"AT LAST THE BLUE CUSHION WAS EMPTY, AND I SAT DOWN ON IT" 48 + +"'OH, YOU LITTLE TORMENT!' SHE CRIED" 63 + +"THEIR VOICES RANG OUT LUSTILY" 73 + +"ALL WENT WELL UNTIL WE REACHED AN ALLEY CROSSING" 81 + +"GOOD-BYE! OLD FELLOW!" 103 + + + + +THE STORY OF DAGO. + +CHAPTER I. + +THIS IS THE STORY THAT DAGO TOLD TO THE MIRROR-MONKEY ON MONDAY. + + +Here I am at last, Ring-tail! The boys have gone to school, thank +fortune, and little Elsie has been taken to kindergarten. Everybody in +the house thinks that I am safe up-stairs in the little prison of a +room that they made for me in the attic. I suppose they never thought +how easy it would be for me to swing out of the open window and climb +down the lightning-rod. Wouldn't Miss Patricia be surprised if she +knew that I am down here now in the parlour, talking to you, and +sitting up here among all these costly, breakable things! + +I have been wanting to get back into this room ever since that first +morning that I slipped in and found you sitting here in the +looking-glass, but the door has been shut every time that I have tried +to come in. Do you remember that morning? You were the first ring-tail +monkey that I had seen since I left the Zoo, and you looked so much +like my twin brother, who used to swing with me in the tangled vines +of my native forests, and pelt me with cocoanut-shells, and chatter to +me all day long under those hot, bright skies, that I wanted to put my +arms around you and hug you; but the looking-glass was between us. +Some day I shall break that glass, and crawl back behind there with +you. + +It is a pity that you are dumb and do not seem to be able to answer +me, for if you could talk to me about the old jungle days I would not +be so homesick. Still, it is some comfort to know that you are not +deaf, and I intend to come in here every morning after the children go +to school; that is, every morning that I find the door open. I've had +a very exciting life in the past, and I think that you'll find my +experiences interesting. + +Of course I'll not begin at the beginning, for, being a ring-tail +monkey yourself, you know what life is like in the great tropical +forests. Perhaps it would be better to skip the circus part, too, for +it was a very unhappy time that followed, after I was stolen from home +by some men who came on a big ship, and carried me away to be sold to +a travelling showman. + +It makes my back ache to this day to think of the ring-master's whip. +I was as quick to learn as any of the other monkeys who were in +training, but an animal who has done nothing all his life but climb +and play can't learn the ways of a human being all in one week. I was +taught to ride a pony and drive a team of greyhounds, and to sit at a +table and feed myself with a silver folk. One half-hour I was made to +be a gentleman, and wear a dress suit, and tip my hat to the ladies, +and the next I would be expected to do something entirely different; +be a policeman, maybe, and arrest a rowdy dog in boxing-gloves. Oh, I +couldn't begin to tell you the things I was expected to do, from +drilling like a soldier to wheeling a doll carriage and smoking a +pipe. Sometimes when I grew confused, and misunderstood the signals +and did things all wrong, the ring-master would swing his whip until +it cracked like a pistol, and shout out, in a terrible voice, "Oh, you +stupid little beast! What's the matter with you?" That always +frightened me so that it gave me the shivers, and then he would shout +at me again until I was still more confused and terrified, and +couldn't do anything to please him. + +Stupid little beast indeed! I wished sometimes that I could have had +him captive, back in the jungles of the old home forest, just to have +seen which would have been the stupid one there. How long would it +have taken him to have learned an entirely different way of living, I +wonder. How many moons before he could swing by his hands and hunt for +his food in the tree-tops? He might have learned after awhile where +the wild paw-paws hang thickest, and where the sweetest, plumpest +bananas grow; but when would he ever have mastered all the wood-lore +of the forest folk,--or gained the quickness of eye and ear and nose +that belongs to all the wise, wild creatures? Oh, how I longed to see +him at the mercy of our old enemies, the Snake-people! One of those +pythons, for instance, "who could slip along the branches as quietly +as moss grows." That would have given him a worse fit of shivers than +the ones he used to give me. + +I'll not talk about such a painful subject any longer, but you may be +sure that I was glad when something happened to the show. The owner +lost all his money, and had to sell his animals and go out of the +business. After that I had a very comfortable winter in a zoological +garden out West, near where we stranded. Then an old white-haired man +from California bought me to add to his private collection of monkeys. +He had half a dozen or so in his high-walled garden. + +It was a beautiful place, hot and sunny like my old home, and full of +palm-trees and tangled vines and brilliant flowers. The most beautiful +thing in it was a great rose-tree which he called Gold of Ophir. It +shook its petals into a splashing fountain where goldfish were always +swimming around and around, and it was hard to tell which was the +brightest, the falling rose-leaves, or the tiny goldfish flashing by +in the sun. + +There was a lady who used to lie in a hammock under the roses every +day and smile at my antics. She was young, I remember, and very +pretty, but her face was as white as the marble mermaid in the +fountain. The old gentleman and his wife always sat beside her when +she lay in the hammock. Sometimes he read aloud, sometimes they +talked, and sometimes a long silence would fall upon them, when the +splashing of the fountain and the droning of the bees would be the +only sound anywhere in the garden. + +When they talked, it was always of the same thing: the children she +had left at home,--Stuart and Phil and little Elsie. I did not listen +as closely as I might have done had I known what a difference those +children were to make in my life. I little thought that a day was +coming when they were to carry me away from the beautiful garden that +I had grown to love almost like my old home. But I heard enough to +know that they were as mischievous as the day is long, and that they +kept their poor old great-aunt Patricia in a woful state of nervous +excitement from morning till night. I gathered, besides, that their +father was a doctor, away from home much of the time. That was why +their great-aunt had them in charge. + +Their mother had come out to her father's home in California to grow +strong and well. The sun burned a pink into the blossoms of the +oleander hedges, and the wind blew life into the swaying branches of +the pepper-trees, but neither seemed to make her any better. After +awhile she could not even be carried out to her place in the hammock. +Then they sent for Doctor Tremont and the children. + +The first that I knew of their arrival, the two boys came whooping +down the paths after the gardener, shouting, "Show us the monkeys, +David! Show us the monkeys! Which one is Dago, and which one is +Matches?" + +I did not want to come down for fear that Stuart might treat me as he +had done Elsie's kitten. I had heard a letter read, which told how he +had tried to cure it of fits. He gave it a shock with his father's +electric battery, and turned the current on so strong that he killed +it. Not knowing but that he might try some trick on me, I held back +until I saw him feeding peanuts to Matches. I never could bear her. +She is the only monkey in the garden that I have never been on +friendly terms with, so I came down at once to get my share of +peanuts, and hers, too, if possible. + +I must say that I took a great fancy to both the boys; they were so +friendly and good-natured. They each had round chubby faces, and hard +little fists. There was a wide-awake look in their big, honest, gray +eyes, and their light hair curled over their heads in little tight +rings. Elsie was only five,--a restless, dimpled little bunch of +mischief, always getting into trouble, because she would try to do +everything that her brothers did. + +The gardener fished her out of the fountain twice in the week she was +there. She was reaching for the goldfish with her fat little hands, +and toppled in, head first. Phil began the week by getting a bee-sting +on his lip, and a bite on the cheek from a parrot that he was teasing. +As for Stuart, I think he had climbed every tree on the place before +the first day was over, and torn his best clothes nearly off his back. +The gardener had a sorry time of it while they stayed. He complained +that "a herd of wild buffalo turned loose to rend and destroy" would +not have done as much damage to his fruit and flowers as they. "Not as +they means to do it, I don't think," he said. "But they're so +chock-full of _go_ that they fair runs away with their selves." The +gardener's excitement did not long last, however. + +[Illustration] + +There came a day when there was no noise in the garden. The boys +wandered around all morning without playing, now and then wiping their +eyes on their jacket sleeves, and talking in low tones. Once they +threw themselves down on the grass and hid their faces, and cried and +sobbed, until their grandfather came out and led them away. The blinds +were all drawn next morning, and the gardener came and cut down nearly +all his lilies, and great armfuls of the Gold of Ophir roses to carry +into the house. + +Another quiet day went by, and then there was such a rumbling of +carriage wheels outside the garden, that I climbed up a tree and +looked over the high walls. There was a long, slow procession winding +up the white mountain road toward a far-away grove of pines. I knew +then what had happened. They were taking the children's mother to the +cemetery, and they would have to go home without her. "Poor children," +I thought, "and poor old great-aunt Patricia." + +The next evening I heard the old gentleman tell David to bring Matches +and me into the house. The next thing I knew I was dropped into a big +bandbox with holes in the lid, and somebody was buckling a +shawl-strap around it. Then I heard the old gentleman say to Doctor +Tremont, "Tom, I don't want to add to the inconveniences of your +journey, but I should like to send these monkeys along to help amuse +the boys. Maybe they'll be some comfort to them. Dago is for Stuart, +and Matches is for Phil. It would be a good idea to keep them in their +boxes to-night on the sleeping-car. They are unusually well behaved +little animals, but it would be safer to keep them shut up until the +boys are awake to look after them." + +You can imagine my feelings when I realised that I was to be sent +away. I shrieked and chattered with rage, but no one paid any +attention to me. I was obliged to settle down in my box in sulky +silence. In a little while I could feel myself being carried down the +porch steps. Then the carriage door slammed and we jolted along in the +dark for a long time. I knew when we reached the depot by the bright +light streaming through the holes in my box-lid. I was carried up the +steps into the sleeping-car, and for the next quarter of an hour it +seemed to me that my box changed position every two minutes. The +porter was getting us settled for the night He was about to poke the +box that held me under the berth where little Elsie and her nurse were +to sleep, when Stuart called him from the berth above, into which he +had just climbed. So I was tossed up as if I had been an ordinary +piece of baggage, the porter little knowing what was strapped so +carefully inside the bandbox. + +Doctor Tremont and Phil had the section just across the aisle from +ours, and Phil carried his box up the step-ladder himself, and stowed +Matches carefully away in one corner before he began to take off his +shoes. When the curtains were all drawn and the car-lights turned down +low so that every one could sleep, Stuart sat up and began unbuckling +the strap around my box. I knew enough to keep still when he took the +lid off and gently stroked me. I had no intention of being sent back +to the baggage-car, if keeping quiet would help me to escape the +conductor's eyes. + +Stuart stroked me for a moment, and then, cautiously drawing aside his +curtains, thrust his head out and looked up and down the aisle. +Everything was quiet. Then he gave the softest kind of a whistle, so +faint that it seemed little more than the echo of one; but Phil +heard, and instantly his head was poked out between his curtains. +Stuart held me up and grinned. Immediately Phil held up Matches and +grinned. After a funny pantomime by which, with many laughable +gestures, each boy made the other understand that he intended to allow +his pet freedom all night, they drew in their heads and lay down. + +Stuart wanted me to sleep on the pillow beside him, but I was still +sulky, and retired to my box at his feet. In spite of the jar and +rumble of the train I slept soundly for a long time. It must have been +somewhere about the middle of the night when I was awakened all of a +sudden by a fearful crash and the feeling that I was pitching headlong +down a frightful precipice. + +The next instant I struck the floor with a force that nearly stunned +me. When I gathered my wits together I found myself in the middle of +the aisle, bruised and sore, with the bandbox on top of me. + +We had been going with the usual terrific speed of a fast express, +down steep mountain grades, sweeping around dizzy curves, and now we +had come to a sudden stop without reason or warning. It gave the train +such a tremendous jar that windows rattled, baggage lurched from the +racks, the porter sprawled full-length on the floor as I had done, and +more than one head was bumped unmercifully against the hard woodwork +of the berths. Everybody sprang up to ask what was the matter. Babies +cried and women scolded and men swore. All I could do was to whimper +with pain and fright until Stuart came scrambling after me. My +shoulder was bruised and my head aching, and no one can imagine my +terrible fright at such a rude awakening. If I had not been in the +box, I might have saved myself when the crash came, but I was +powerless to catch at anything when it went bump over on to the floor. + +The brakeman and conductor came running in to see what was the matter. +Nobody knew why the train had stopped. It was several minutes before +they discovered the cause, but I had found out while Stuart was +climbing back to bed with me. Swinging by her hands from the bell-rope +which ran down the centre of the car, was that miserable little +monkey, Matches, making a fool of herself and everybody else. Who but +that little imp of mischief would have done such a thing as to get up +in the middle of the night and go through a lot of gymnastic +exercises on the bell-rope? It was her swinging and jerking on the +rope that rang the bell and brought the engine to that sudden stop. + +I don't know how the doctor settled it with the conductor. I know that +there was a great deal said, and Matches and I were both sent back to +the baggage-car. All the rest of the journey I had an aching head and +a bruised shoulder to keep me in mind of that hateful little Matches, +and I resolved long before we reached home that I would do something +to get even with her, before we had lived together a week. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +WHAT DAGO SAID TO THE MIRROR-MONKEY ON TUESDAY. + + +Ring-tail, what do you think of Miss Patricia? I'm afraid of her. The +night we came home she met us in the hall, looking so tall and severe +in her black gown, with those prim little bunches of gray curls on +each side of her face, that I went under a chair. Then I thought I +must have misjudged her, for there were tears in her eyes when she +kissed the children, and I heard her whisper as she turned away, "poor +little motherless lambs!" Still I have seen so many people in the +course of my travels that I rarely make a mistake in reading +character. As soon as she caught sight of me I knew that my first +thought had been right. Her thin Roman nose went up in the air, and +her sharp eyes glared at me so savagely that I could think of nothing +else but an old war eagle, with arrows in its talons. You may have +seen them on silver dollars. + +"Tom Tremont," she exclaimed, "you don't mean to say that you have +brought home a _monkey_!" I wish you could have heard the disgust in +her voice. "Of all the little pests in the world, they are certainly +the worst!" + +"Yes, Aunt Patricia," he answered. "They've been a great pleasure to +the boys." + +"_They!_" she gasped. "You don't mean to say that there are _two_!" +Then she saw Matches climbing up on Phil's shoulder, and words failed +her. + +"Yes; their grandfather gave each of the boys one of his pets. He said +that they would be company for them on the way home, and would help +divert their thoughts from their great loss. They grieved so, poor +little lads." + +That softened Miss Patricia again, and she said nothing more about our +being pests. But when she passed me she drew her skirts aside as if +she could not bear to so much as brush against me, and from that hour +it has been war to the knife between us. + +Matches and I were given a little room up in the attic under the +eaves, but at first we were rarely there during the day. The boys +took us with them wherever they went. We had been there some time +before we were left alone long enough for me to do any exploring. + +It was almost dark when that first chance came. I prowled around the +attic awhile. Then I climbed out of the window and swung down by the +vines that covered that side of the house, to the shutters of the room +below. It happened to be Miss Patricia's room. As I perched on the top +of the shutters, leaning over and craning my neck, I could see Miss +Patricia sitting there in the dusk beside her open window. Her hands +were folded in her lap, and she was rocking gently back and forth in a +high-backed rocking-chair, with her eyes closed. + +I thought it would be a good chance for me to take a peep into her +room, so I ventured to swing over and drop down on the window-sill +beside her, on all fours. I did it very quietly, so quietly, in fact, +that I do not see how she could possibly have been disturbed; yet I +give you my word, Ring-tail, that woman shrieked until you could have +heard her half a mile. I never was so terrified in all my life. It +paralysed me for an instant, and then I sprang up by the vines to the +lightning-rod, and streaked up it faster than any lightning ever came +down. Once in my room, I shook all the rest of the evening. + +[Illustration] + +Matches said that Miss Patricia was probably worse scared than I was, +but that's impossible. I never made a sound, and as for her--why, even +the cook came running when Miss Patricia began to shriek, and she was +in the coal-cellar at the time, and is deaf in one ear. + +But Matches always disagreed with me in everything, and I was not +sorry when we parted company. I'd better tell you about that next. It +happened in this way. Stuart came into the room one day with Sim +Williams, one of the boys who was always swarming up the stairs to see +us. Sim was older than Stuart, and one of those restless, inquiring +boys, never satisfied with letting well enough alone. He was always +making experiments. This time he wanted to experiment on me with a +handful of tobacco,--coax me to eat it, you know, and see what effect +it would have. But Stuart objected. He was afraid it might make me +sick, and proposed trying it on Phil's monkey first. So they called +Matches, and the silly little beast was so pleased and flattered by +their attention that she stood up and ate all they gave her. She did +not like it, I could see that, but they praised her and coaxed her, +and it turned her head. Usually I received the most attention. + +It did not seem to hurt her any, so Sim offered me some. But I would +not take it. I folded my hands, first over my ears and then over my +eyes. Then I held them over my mouth. Stuart thought it wonderfully +smart of me, and so did Sim, when he found that it was a trick that +Stuart's grandfather had taught me. The old man had an ebony +paper-weight on his library table, which he called "the three wise +monkeys of Japan." They were carved sitting back to back. The first +one had its paws folded over its eyes in token that it must never see +more than it ought to see, the second covered its ears that it might +not hear more than it ought to hear, and the third solemnly held its +paws over its mouth, in order that it might never say more than it +ought to say. + +Stuart thought that I had forgotten the trick. He told Sim that it was +the only one I knew. I was glad that he had never discovered that I am +a trained monkey. If he had known how many tricks I can perform life +wouldn't have been worth living. It would have been like an endless +circus, with me for the only performer. As it was, I was made to go +through that one trick of the wise monkeys of Japan until I was +heartily disgusted with it, or with anything else, in fact, that +suggested the land of the Mikado. + +Stuart was in a hurry to show me off to the other fellows, so he +caught me up under his arm, and started off to the ball-ground, where +most of them were to be found. Matches tried to follow us, but Sim +drove her back, and the last I saw of her she was under the table, +whimpering. It was a soft little complaining cry she had, almost like +the chirp of a sleepy bird, and when she made it her mouth drew up +into a pitiful little pucker. + +I slept in the laundry that night, for it was after dark when we got +home, and the boys were not allowed to carry a light up into the +attic. Next day, when Stuart took me back to my room, there lay +Matches, stretched out on the floor as dead as a mummy. The tobacco +had poisoned her. Phil was crying over her as if his heart would +break. He didn't know what had killed her, and the boys did not see +fit to tell. As for me, I remembered my lesson, never to say any more +than I ought to say, and discreetly folded my hands over my mouth +whenever the subject was mentioned. + +I have no doubt but that I could have eaten as much tobacco as Matches +did, and escaped with only a short illness, but the sickly little +mossback didn't have the constitution that we ring-tails have. She was +a poor delicate creature that the least thing affected. I couldn't +help feeling sorry for her, and yet I was so glad to be rid of her +that I capered around for sheer joy. When I realised that never again +would I be kept awake by her snoring, never again would I be disturbed +by her disagreeable ways, and that at last I was even with her for +spilling me out of my berth on the sleeping-car, I swung on my +turning-pole until I was dizzy. No one knew what a jubilee I had all +alone that night in my little room under the eaves. + +Little did I dream of the humiliation in store for me. The next day I +found that Matches was to have a funeral after school, and that I--I, +who hated her--was to take the part of chief mourner. The boys took +off my spangled jacket and dressed me up in some clothes that belonged +to Elsie's big Paris doll. They left my own little cap on my head, but +covered it and me all over with a long crape veil that dragged on the +ground behind me and tripped me up in front when I tried to walk. It +was pinned tightly over my face, and I nearly smothered, for it was a +hot September afternoon. I sputtered and gasped under the nasty black +thing until I was almost choked. It was so thick I could scarcely +breathe through it, but the more I sputtered the more it pleased the +children. They said I seemed to be really crying and sobbing under my +veil, and that I was acting my part of chief mourner beautifully. + +All the children of the neighbourhood came to the funeral. There was a +band to lead the procession; a band of three boys, playing on a French +harp, a jew's-harp, and a drum. Johnny Grey's Newfoundland dog was +hitched to the little wagon that held Matches's coffin. Phil drove, +sitting up solemnly in his father's best high silk hat with its band +of crape. It was much too large for his head, and slipped down over +his curls until the brim rested on the tips of his ears. It was +serious business for Phil. His eyes were red and his dirty face +streaked with tears. He had grown to be very fond of Matches. + +Elsie and I followed on a tricycle. She had borrowed an old-fashioned +scoop bonnet and a black silk apron from one of the neighbours. I sat +beside her, feeling very hot and uncomfortable in the crape veil in +which I was pinned. The others walked behind us, two by two, in a long +procession. We went five times around the circle, while Sim +Williams, on the wood-shed roof, tolled a big auction bell, which he +had borrowed for the occasion. + +[Illustration: MATCHES'S FUNERAL.] + +When it was all over and the little mound over Matches's grave had +been covered with sod, the children were loath to stop playing +funeral. They had enjoyed it so much. Somebody said that we ought to +march down the street so that people could see how funny I looked in +my crape veil; but I could stand it no longer. When I saw that the +band was really moving toward the gate, and that Stuart was about to +lift me into the wagon that had carried Matches's coffin, I shrieked +with rage and bit and tore at my veil until I was soon free. + +In about a minute it was nothing but a heap of rags and tatters, and +Phil and Stuart were looking at it and then at each other with +troubled faces. "It's Aunt Patricia's!" one of them gasped. "And it is +all torn to bits! Oh, Dago, you little mischief, how _could_ you? Now +we'll catch it!" As if it were my fault. I don't know what happened +when the veil was taken back. Luckily I had no share in that part of +it, although Miss Patricia seemed to add that to the long list of +grievances she had against me, and her manner toward me grew even +more severe than before. + +The excitement of the funeral seemed to make Phil forget the loss of +Matches that day, but he cried next morning when Stuart came down with +me on his shoulder, and there was no frisky little pet for him to +fondle and feed. How he could grieve for her is more than I could +understand. I didn't miss her,--I was glad she was gone. Every day +Phil put fresh flowers on her grave. Sometimes it was only a stiff red +coxcomb or a little stemless geranium that had escaped the early +frost. Sometimes it was only a handful of bright grasses gone to seed. +The doctor's neglected garden flaunted few blooms this autumn, but the +little fellow, grieving long and sorely, did all he could to show +respect to Matches's memory. + +One day, nearly a month later, he went crying into his father's +office, saying that Matches was gone. Stuart and Sim Williams had dug +her up and sold her skeleton to a naturalist in the next block for +fifty cents. He had just heard of it. I never saw a child so excited. +He was sobbing so hard that he could not breathe except in great +choking gasps, and it was some time before his father could quiet him +enough to understand what he was talking about. + +Oh, but Doctor Tremont was angry! And yet it did not sound so bad when +Stuart had explained it. He hadn't thought that he was doing anything +dishonest or unkind to Phil. He only thought what an easy way it would +be to make fifty cents. He didn't see how it could make any difference +to Phil, so long as he never found it out, and Sim had sworn not to +tell. The mound would still be there, and he could go on putting +flowers on it just the same. Sim was the one who had first spoken of +it, and Sim had half the money. + +I was not in the room all of the time, so I cannot tell what passed +between Stuart and his father. I could hear the doctor's voice for a +long time, talking in low, deep tones, very earnestly. I know he said +something about Phil's being such a little fellow, and how the mother +who had gone away would have been grieved to know that he was so +unhappy. What he said must have hurt Stuart more than a whipping, for +when he came out his eyes were red, and he looked as solemn as an +owl. + +He had promised his father several things. One was that he would have +nothing more to do with Sim Williams, who was always leading him into +trouble, and another was that he would beg Phil's pardon, and do +something to make up for the injury he had done him. Stuart thought +and thought a long time what that should be. I know the doctor's talk +must have gone deep, for by and by he took _me_,--_Dago_,--his +best-beloved possession, and gave me to Phil. + +At first the little fellow couldn't believe it. "Oh, brother!" he +cried. "Do you really mean it? Is it for keeps?" + +"Yes, it's for keeps," said Stuart, grimly. Then he put his hands in +his pockets and walked away, whistling, although there were tears in +his eyes. But Phil ran after him with me in his arms. + +"Oh, I couldn't take _all_ of him, Stuart," he said. "You are too +good. That would be too much, when you are so fond of him. But I'd +love to own half of him. Let's go partnerships. You claim half, and +I'll claim half." + +Well, they decided to settle it that way, after a great deal of +talking. You can't imagine, Ring-tail, how queer it makes me feel to +be divided up in such a fashion. Sometimes I puzzle over it until I am +dizzy. Which of me belongs to Stuart, and which of me belongs to +Phil? + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +WHAT THE MIRROR-MONKEY HEARD ON WEDNESDAY. + + +Do you see any gray hairs in my fur, Ring-tail, or any new wrinkles in +my face? Life in this family is such a wear and tear on the nerves +that I feel that I am growing old fast. So much happens every day. +Something is always happening here. Really, I have had more exciting +experiences in one short forenoon, here in this house, than I used to +have in a whole month in the Zoo. It is bad for me to be in such a +state of constant fright. + +The day after I was divided between Phil and Stuart, the boys of the +neighbourhood had a Cuban war in our back yard. At least they started +to have one,--built a camp-fire and put up a tent and got their +ammunition ready. Each side made a great pile of soft mud-balls, and +it was agreed that as soon as a soldier was hit and spotted by the +moist clinging stuff he was to be counted dead. You see the sport was +not dangerous, only dirty. + +Stuart had his coat off, rolling mud-balls with all his might and +main. He was plastered with mud to his elbows, and his face was a +sight. + +Phil was busy sweeping up dead leaves for the camp-fire. Suddenly he +dropped his old broom and went trotting off toward the house. "I am +going to get something that will make it sound like a real war," he +said to me as he left. The boys did not hear him, and he came back +presently, with his little blue blouse all pouched out in front with +the things he had stuffed inside of it. + +I followed him into the tent and watched him unload. First there was +the old powder-horn that always hangs over the hall mantelpiece. Then +there was a big, wide-necked bottle, a large, clean handkerchief, and +a spool of thread. "You see this, Dago?" he said to me. "Now you watch +and see what happens." + +He tore the hem off the handkerchief, poured a lot of powder into the +middle of the square that was left, and then drew the corners together +in one hand. With the other hand he squeezed the powder into a ball +in the middle of the handkerchief, and wrapped the thread around and +around above it to keep the wad in place. + +"Now I'll put the wad of powder into the bottle," he said, "and leave +the ends of the cloth sticking out for a fuse. See?" + +I didn't know anything about gunpowder then, so I put my head close to +his as he squatted there in the tent, talking as he worked. "Come on, +Dago," he said, when it was ready, "I'll light this at the camp-fire +and hold the bottle straight out in the air, so it won't hurt +anything. It'll go off like a pistol--bim!--and make the boys jump out +of their boots." I thought it would be better for me to get out of the +way if a racket like that was coming, so I scuttled up to the top of +the tent-pole. + +Phil stooped down by the bonfire, held the rag to the coals until it +began to smoulder, and swung around to point it at the fence. There +was no sound. Evidently the bottle did not make as good a pistol as he +thought it would. "The light's gone out," he muttered, bringing the +bottle cautiously around to look at it. Then he blew it, either to +see if he could rekindle it, or to make sure that the last spark was +out,--I could not tell. The next instant there was a puff, a flash, +and then, jungles of my ancestors! such a noise and such screams and +such a smell of burning powder! After that I could see nothing but a +tangled mass of boys, all legs and elbows, crowding around poor little +Phil to see what had happened. If war is like that, then my voice and +vote are henceforth for peace, and peace alone. It's awful! + +They carried him up-stairs, and his father was sent for, and the +neighbours came running in as soon as the boys had scampered home with +the news. For awhile it seemed to me that the whole world was +topsy-turvy. Miss Patricia was so frightened she couldn't do a thing. +I really pitied her, for her hands trembled and her voice shook, and +even the little bunches of gray curls bobbed up and down against her +pale cheeks. I have had the shivers so often that I can sympathise +with any one whose nerves are unstrung from fright. + +The doctor turned us all out of the room, and I waited with the boys +out by the alley-gate until he came down-stairs and told us how badly +Phil was burned. His front hair and eyebrows and beautiful long curly +lashes were singed off, and his face was so full of powder that it was +as speckled as a turkey egg. The grains would have to be picked out +one by one,--a slow and painful proceeding. The doctor could not tell +how badly his eyes were hurt until next day, but thought he would have +to lie in a dark room for a week at least, with his eyelids covered +with cotton that had been dipped in some soothing kind of medicine. + +But that week went by, and many a long tiresome day besides, before +Phil could use his eyes again. They would not let me go into the room +that first day, but after Phil had gone to sleep I hid under a chair +in the upper hall, where Miss Patricia and the doctor were talking. +"Tom," said Miss Patricia, "what do you suppose made that child do +such a reckless thing? Sometimes I think that boys are like monkeys, +and are possessed by the same spirit of mischief. Neither seem +satisfied unless they are playing tricks or making some kind of a +disturbance. They are always getting into trouble." + +"Yes, it does seem so," answered the doctor, "but if we could look +down to the bottom of a boy's heart, we would find that very little of +the mischief that he gets into is planned for the purpose of making +trouble. He does things from a pure love of fun, or from some sudden +impulse, and because he never stops to think of what it may lead to. +Phil never stopped to think any more than Dago would have done, what +would be the result of setting fire to the powder. You must remember +that he is a very little fellow, Aunt Patricia. He is only eight. We +shouldn't expect him to have the reasoning powers of a man, and the +caution and judgment that come with age." + +Now I thought that that was a very sensible speech. It seemed to +excuse some of my own past mistakes. But Miss Patricia put on her old +war-eagle look. + +"Really, Tom," she said, "that sounds very well, but it is not what +was taught in my day. A wholesome use of the rod after the first act +of disobedience helps boys to stop and think before committing the +second. It is a great developer of judgment, in my opinion. If you had +punished Phil the first time he took down his grandfather's +powder-horn after you had forbidden him to touch it, he would never +have taken it down the second time, and so would have been spared all +this suffering to-day." + +"I know you are right, Aunt Patricia," said the doctor, "but I seem to +remember my own boyhood so clearly, the way I thought and felt and +looked at things, that I have a very warm sympathy for my little lads +when they go wrong." + +Miss Patricia rose to go down and prepare the lemon jelly that Phil +had asked for, saying, as she moved toward the stairs: + +"Well, I love Phil and Stuart dearly. I'm devoted to them, and willing +to do anything in my power for their comfort, but I'm free to confess +that I don't understand them. I never did understand boys." Then she +tripped over me as I nearly upset us both in my frantic efforts to get +out of her way. "Or monkeys either," she added, shaking her skirts at +me with a displeased "_Shoo_," as if I had been a silly old hen. + +It was very quiet about the house for a few days, and then some jolly +times began in Phil's room. As soon as the boys were allowed to visit +him I showed them some of my tricks, and kept them in roars of +laughter. I wheeled little Elsie's doll carriage around the room, and +I sat up with the doctor's pipe in my mouth, I drilled and danced, and +performed as if I had been on a stage. It was wonderful to them, for +they had never guessed how much I knew. One day I sat down in a little +rocking-chair with a kitten in my arms, and rocked and hugged it as if +it had been a baby. It wasn't breathing when I stopped. The boys said +I hugged it too hard, but they kept on bringing me something to rock +every day, until five kittens and a rabbit had been put to sleep so +soundly that they wouldn't wake up. + +One day Phil was moved into Miss Patricia's room while his own was +being cleaned. Of course no boys were allowed to go in there with him +except Stuart. They had a good time, for Miss Patricia told them +stories and showed them the curious things in her cabinet and gave +them sugar-plums out of the big, blue china dragon that always stands +on top of it. But I could see that she was not enjoying their visit. +She was afraid that Stuart's rockers would bump against her handsome +old mahogany furniture, or that they would scratch it in some way, or +break some of her fine vases and jardinières. + +After awhile she was called down to the parlour to receive a guest, +and there was nothing to amuse the boys. Time dragged so heavily that +Phil begged Stuart to bring his little rubber-gun--gumbo-shooter he +called it. It was a wide rubber band fastened at each end to the tips +of a forked stick shaped like a big Y. They used buckshot to shoot +with, nipping up a shot in the middle of the band with thumb and +finger, and drawing it back as far as possible before letting it fly. + +There was a fire in the grate, so they were comfortably warm even when +they opened the window to take turns in shooting at the red berries on +the vine just outside. It was as much as Phil could do, lying on the +sofa, to send a buckshot through the open window without hitting the +panes above, but Stuart cut a berry neatly from the vine at each +trial. + +Soon he began to boast of his skill, and aimed his sling at an ancient +portrait over the mantel. It was of a dignified old gentleman in a +black stock and powdered wig. He had keen, eagle eyes like Miss +Patricia, which seemed to follow one all around the room. + +"I bet I could hit that picture square in the apple of its eye," he +bragged, "right in its eye-ball,--bim!" + +"Oh, don't try!" begged Phil. "It's our great-great-grandfather, and +Aunt Patricia thinks a lot of that picture." + +"'Course I wouldn't do it," answered Stuart, taking another aim, "but +I could, just as easy as nothing." Still dallying with temptation, he +pointed again at the frowning eye and drew the rubber slowly back. All +of a sudden, zip! The buckshot seemed to leap from the rubber of its +own accord, and Stuart fell back, frightened by what he had done. A +round black hole the size of the buckshot gaped in the middle of the +old-ancestor's eye-ball, as clean cut as if it had been made with a +punch. It gave it the queerest, wickedest stare you can imagine. It +was the first thing one would notice on looking about the room. Stuart +was white about the mouth. + +"Oh, dear," sighed Phil, half crying, "if Aunt Patricia was only like +the wise monkeys of Japan, then she wouldn't notice." + +"But she will," said Stuart; "she always sees everything." + +Phil had given me an idea. As soon as I heard Miss Patricia's silk +skirts coming slowly through the hall with their soft swish, swish, I +ran and sat in the doorway with my hands over my eyes, in token that +there was something that she ought not to look at. It should have +amused her, for she knew the story of the ebony paper-weight, but +instead it seemed to arouse her suspicion that something was wrong. +She looked at the boys' miserable faces and then all around the room, +very slowly. It was so still that you could have heard a pin drop. At +last she looked up at the picture. Then she fairly stiffened with +horror. She couldn't find a word for a moment, and Stuart cried out, +"Oh, Aunt Patricia, I'm _so_ sorry. It was an accident. I didn't +_mean_ to do it, truly I didn't!" + +[Illustration: "SHE FAIRLY STIFFENED WITH HORROR."] + +There's no use harrowing up your feelings, Ring-tail, repeating all +that was said. Miss Patricia simply couldn't believe that the shot +could have struck dead centre unless the eye had been deliberately +aimed at, and she thought something was wrong with a boy who would +even take aim at his great-great-grandfather's eyeball. + +Stuart was sent from the room in disgrace to report to his father, and +the last I saw of Miss Patricia that day, she was looking up at the +portrait, and saying, with a mournful shake of her gray curls: "How +can they do such things? I must confess that I don't understand +boys!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE TALE THE MIRROR-MONKEY HEARD ON THURSDAY. + + +The day that Phil was able to go back to school was an unlucky one for +me. It was so dolefully quiet everywhere. After he had gone, I slipped +down-stairs on the banister, but the blinds were drawn in the parlour +and dining-room, and it was so still that the only sound to be heard +was the slow ticking of the great clock in the hall. When it gave a +loud br-r-r and began to strike, I was so startled by the sudden noise +that I nearly lost my balance and turned a somersault over the +railing. + +Then I saw Miss Patricia pass through the hall with her bonnet on, +going out for a morning walk, and I thought it would be a fine time +for me to explore her room. It is full of interesting things that I +had never been permitted to touch, for when the boys were allowed to +take me into Miss Patricia's room, it was always on condition that I +should be made to play little Jack Horner and sit in some corner under +a chair or table. + +So as soon as the door closed behind her I hurried up-stairs to her +room. I had the best time that morning. There were all sorts of little +bottles on her wash-stand with good-smelling stuff in them. I pulled +out the corks and emptied some of the bottles into the bowl to make +that smell good, too. Then I washed my teeth with her little +silver-handled toothbrush, just as Phil does every morning, and put +the sponges to soak in the water-pitcher. + +After awhile I found the cut-glass vinaigrette that Miss Patricia +carries around with her. I have seen her use it a hundred times at +least, tipping back the silver lid, taking out the little glass +stopper, and holding it to her nose with the remark that she never +smelled more refreshing salts. I have wanted very much to try it +myself. So now that I had the chance I did just as she does,--tipped +back the lid, pulled out the stopper, and took a long, deep smell. +Whew! It almost upset me. I thought it must be fire and brimstone that +she had bottled up in there. It brought the tears to my eyes, and +took my breath for a minute so I had to sit and gasp. Then I dropped +the vinaigrette in the slop-jar and jumped down from the wash-stand. + +[Illustration: I sat down on the pincushion.] + +Her high, old-fashioned bureau tempted me next. There were rows and +rows of pins in a big blue pincushion, put in as evenly as if it had +been done by a machine. I pulled them out, one by one, and dropped +them down behind the bureau. It took some time to do that, but at last +the blue cushion was empty, and I sat down on it to examine the +jewel-case at my leisure. I found the prettiest things in it; an +open-faced locket, set around with pearls, with the picture of a +beautiful young girl in it; a string of bright coral beads, and a +little carnelian ring, and a gold dollar hung on a faded ribbon. + +I forgot to tell you that Miss Patricia's bay window is full of +flowers, and that she has a mocking-bird hanging in a cage above the +wire stand that holds her ferns and foliage plants. The mocking-bird's +name is Dick. Now Dick hadn't paid any attention to me until I opened +the jewel-case. As I did so I knocked a hairbrush off the bureau to +the floor, which must have frightened him, for he began to cry out as +if something had caught hold of him. Then he whistled, as if he were +calling a dog. You have no idea what a racket he made. I was afraid +that some of the servants might hear him and come to see what was the +matter. Then, of course, I would be turned out of the room before I +had finished examining all the pretty things. I turned around and +shook my fist at him and chattered at him as savagely as I knew how, +but he kept on, first making that hoarse cry and then whistling as if +calling to a dog. + +I determined to stop him in some way or another, so, not waiting to +put down the gold dollar or the little carnelian ring, which were +tightly clenched in one hand, I sprang down from the bureau. Running +up the wire flower-stand below the cage, I shook my fist directly +under his beak. It only made him noisier than ever, and he flew about +the cage like something crazy. + +"Be still, won't you? you silly thing!" I shrieked, and in my +desperation I made a grab through the bars at his tail-feathers. A +whole handful came out, and that seemed to make him wilder than +before. He beat himself against the top of the cage and screamed so +loud that I thought it would be better to leave before any one heard +him and came in. + +So I jumped across to the cabinet near the window, where the big blue +dragon sat. Then I remembered the sugar-plums inside and stopped for +just one taste. I lifted off the dragon's ugly head and was reaching +my hand down inside for one of those delicious sweetmeats, when in +walked Miss Patricia. My! I was scared! I hadn't expected her back so +soon. + +I dropped the dragon's old blue head on the floor and was out of the +window like a shot. There was a cedar-tree reaching up past the +window, and I ran out on one of the limbs and hid myself among its +thick branches. I could see her but she couldn't see me. She walked +all around the room, and looked at the wash-stand and the bureau and +at Dick's tail-feathers scattered among the window-plants and then at +the blue dragon's head, smashed all to bits on the floor. Then she +picked up the locket, lying face downwards on the rug, and began +searching for the other things that had been in the jewel-case. I +suppose it was the carnelian ring and the gold dollar with the hole in +it that she missed. I opened my hand, remembering that I had had them +when I went to hush up that noisy mocking-bird. I must have dropped +them when I jumped from the window into the cedar-tree. While I was +hanging over the limb, peering down to see if I could catch a glimpse +of them on the ground below, the housemaid, Nora, came into the room +in answer to Miss Patricia's ring. A few minutes after, Doctor +Tremont followed. + +Nora and the doctor walked around and around the room, looking at +everything, as Miss Patricia had done, and hunting for the things that +were missing, but Miss Patricia sat down in a high-backed chair +against the wall, and cried. + +"I cannot stand it any longer," she sobbed. Her old face was +quivering, there was a bright red spot on each cheek, and her +side-curls were trembling with excitement. "I have put up with that +little beast until I can endure it no longer. Patience has ceased to +be a virtue. Either it must go, or I shall. Look at Dick! His heart is +beating itself almost out of his poor little body, he is so +frightened. And there's that china dragon, that has been a family +heirloom for generations,--all broken! And my precious little +keepsakes, that I have cherished since childhood, all scattered or +lost! Oh, Tom, you do not know how cruelly it hurts me!" + +I felt sorry, then. I wanted to cry out, as Stuart had done when he +shot his great-great-grandfather's portrait, "Oh, Aunt Patricia, I'm +_so_ sorry! It was an accident. I didn't mean to do it, truly I didn't +mean to!" But she couldn't understand monkey language, and man's +speech has been denied us, so I only hugged the limb closer and +watched in silence. + +I stayed in that tree all day. The boys came home from school, and +called and called me, but I kept as still as a mouse. It was not until +long after dark that I crawled up the lightning-rod and slipped +through the window into my room in the attic. Phil found me there the +next morning when he began his search again. He squeezed me until I +ached, he was so glad to see me. Then he and Elsie brought me my +breakfast and sat on the floor, half crying as they watched me eat, +for the order had gone forth that I must be sent away. The doctor +could forgive his boys when they did wrong, but he couldn't make any +allowance for me. + +"I think it's too bad that we have to give up the very nicest pet we +ever had, just because Aunt Patricia don't like him," exclaimed Phil, +mournfully. "Dago didn't do much mischief that can't be mended. +Carnelian rings are as cheap as anything. Nora said so. It would be +easy enough to get her another one as good as the one Dago lost, and +I'd be only too glad to give her my big silver dollar in place of the +gold one. That would be better than the one she had before, for mine +hasn't any hole in it. Dick's tail-feathers will grow out again, and +everything could be fixed as good as new except the old blue dragon, +and he was too ugly to make a fuss about, anyhow!" + +"He always had good sugar-plums in him, though," said little Elsie, +who had had her full share of them, and who had so many sweet memories +of the dragon that she looked upon it as a friend. + +"I don't care! I love Dago a thousand times more than she could +possibly love an old piece of china or a gold dollar with a hole in +it. I wouldn't take a hundred dollars for Dago, and Aunt Patricia is a +mean old thing to make papa say that we have to give him up. I wished +I dared tell her so. I should like to stand outside her door and +holler at the top of my voice: + + "Old Aunt Pat + You're mean as a rat!" + +"Why, Philip Tremont!" cried Elsie, in a shocked voice. "Something +awful will happen to you if you talk that way. She isn't just your +aunt, she's your great-aunt, too, in the bargain, and she's an old, +old lady." + +"Well, I would!" insisted Phil. "I don't care what you say." Just then +a faint sound of music, far-away down the street, but steadily coming +nearer, floated up the attic stairs. The children ran to the window to +listen, hanging recklessly out over the sill. + +"It's a grind-organ man!" cried Elsie, "and he's got a monkey." + +"I wonder how Dago would act if he were to see one of his own family," +said Phil. "Come on, let's take him down and see." + +He grabbed me up excitedly, regardless of the fact that I had not +finished my breakfast, and was still clinging to a half-eaten banana. +Tucking me under his arm, he went clattering down the steep attic +stairs, calling Elsie to follow. Running across the upper hall, he +slid down the banister of the next flight of stairs, that being the +quickest way to reach the front door and the street. Elsie was close +behind. She slid down the banister after him, her chubby legs held +stiffly out at each side, and the buttons on her jacket making a long +zigzag scratch under her, as she shot down the dark, polished rail. + +A crowd of children had stopped on the curbstone in front of the +house, shivering a little in the pale autumn sunshine, but laughing +and pushing each other as they gathered closer around the man with the +hand-organ. As the wheezy notes were ground out, the man unwound the +rope that was coiled around his wrist, and bade the monkey at the +other end of it step out and dance. + +"Come on, Dago! Come shake hands with the other monkey!" the children +cried. But I shrank back as far as possible, clinging to Phil's neck. +Not for a fortune would I have touched the miserable little animal +crouching on the organ. She might have been Matches's own sister, from +her resemblance to her. She belonged to the same species, I am sure, +and whenever they held me near her I shrieked and scolded so fiercely +that Phil finally said that I shouldn't be teased. + +The man who held the string was a hard master. One could plainly see +that. He had a dark, cruel face, and he jerked the rope and swore at +her in Italian whenever she stopped dancing, which she did every few +seconds. He had started on his rounds early, in order to attract as +many children as possible before school-time, and I doubt if the poor +little thing had had any breakfast. She was sick besides. She would +dance a few steps and then cower down and tremble, and look at him so +appealingly, that only a brute could have had the heart to strike her +as he did. When he found that all his jerking was in vain, he gave her +several hard blows with the other end of the rope. At that she +staggered up and began to dance again, but it was not long until she +was huddled down on the curbstone as before, shaking as if with a +chill. + +Oh, how I wished that I could be a human being for a few minutes! A +big strong man with a rope in my hands, and that fellow tied to one +end of it. Wouldn't I make him dance? Wouldn't I jerk him and scold +him and beat him, and give him a taste of how it feels to be a +helpless animal, sick and suffering, in the power of a great ugly +brute like himself? + +Maybe he would not have been so rough if he had known that any one +besides the children was looking on. He did not see the gentleman +standing at the open front door across the street, watching him with a +frown on his face. He did not see him, as I did, walk back into the +hall and turn the crank of an alarm-signal. But in less than two +minutes, it seemed to me, that same gentleman was coming across the +street with the policeman he had summoned. A few words passed between +them, and almost before the children knew what was happening, the +policeman had the organ-grinder by the arm, and was marching him off +down the street. The gentleman who had caused the arrest followed with +the poor trembling monkey. + +"That's the president of the society for preventin' you bein' cruel to +animals," explained one of the larger boys to the crowd of children. +"You dasn't hurt a fly when he is around. Lucky for the monk that the +man happened to stop in front of his house this mornin'. Come on, lets +see what they do with it." + +The children trooped off after him, and Phil and Elsie watched them +down the street until they were out of sight, pushing and tripping at +each other's heels in their eagerness to follow. + +Then Phil climbed up on one of the gate-posts with me in his arms, +and Elsie promptly scrambled up to the other. + +"That's what might happen to Dago any day, sister," Phil said, in a +solemn voice, as he hugged me tight. If we give him up, some old +organ-grinder may get him, and beat him and beat him, and be cruel to +him, and I'm just not going to let anybody have him. I'll hide him +somewhere so nobody can find him." + +"Trouble is he won't stay hid," answered Elsie, with a mournful look +in her big blue eyes. "We'll have to think of some other plan." + +It was a cold morning, but there they perched on the gate-posts, and +thought and thought until the school-bell began to ring. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +WHAT DAGO TOLD ON FRIDAY. + + +Before the bell stopped ringing, some one called Elsie to the house to +get ready for kindergarten, and Phil ran down to the stable with me. +He tied me to an iron ring in one of the stalls by a halter. Of course +any knot that a boy of that size could tie would not keep me a +prisoner very long. By the time he was halfway to school I was free +and on my way back to the house. + +I stayed in the laundry nearly all day, for the sun went under a cloud +soon after breakfast, and a cold drizzling rain began to fall. It gave +me the rheumatism, and I was glad to curl up in a big market-basket on +the shelf behind the stove, and enjoy the heat of the roaring fire. +Nora was ironing, and singing as she worked. Not since I left the warm +California garden had I been as peaceful and as comfortable. The heat +made me so drowsy that not even the thump, bump of Nora's iron on the +ironing-board, or the sound of her shrill singing could keep me awake. +I dreamed and dozed, and dozed and dreamed all day, in a blissful +state of contentment. + +It was nearly dark when I roused up enough to stretch myself and step +out of the basket. Nora had gone up-stairs and was setting the +supper-table. I could hear the cook beating eggs in the pantry. There +would be muffins for supper. The sound made me so hungry that I +slipped into the dining-room, and hid under the sideboard until Nora +had finished her work and gone back to the kitchen. The cook was still +mixing muffin batter in the pantry. I could hear her spoon click +against the crock as she stirred it, so that I knew she would not be +in to disturb me for some time. + +I never saw a table more inviting. After I had leaped up on it, I sat +and looked all around a moment, trying to decide what to take first. +Everything was so good. There wasn't much room to walk about, and when +I stepped over the jelly to reach the cheese, which seemed to tempt my +appetite more than anything, my long tail switched the roses out of +the bowl in the middle of the table. That confused me slightly, and in +trying not to upset anything else I stepped flat into the butter, and +dragged my little plaid flannel skirt through the applesauce. Why they +persist in dressing me in this ridiculous fashion is more than I can +understand. + +You may be sure that I would have starved a week rather than have +climbed on that table, if I had had the slightest foreboding of what +was to follow. But how could I know that Miss Patricia was to choose +that very moment for walking into the dining-room? She had just come +in from the street, for she had on her bonnet, and carried an umbrella +in her hand. Phil and little Elsie followed her. + +"Oh, you little torment!" she cried, when she saw me, and, before I +could make up my mind which way to jump, she flew at me with her +umbrella, trying to strike me without breaking any of the dishes. I +dodged this way and that. Seeing no way of escape from the room, +I ran up the curtains, over and under the chairs, around and +around,--anywhere to keep out of her way. She was after me at every +step. When I ran up to the top of the high, carved back of the +old-fashioned sideboard, I found myself out of her reach for one +breathless minute. She was climbing on a chair after me, when the +cook, hearing the unusual sounds, opened the pantry door and looked +in. + +[Illustration: "'OH, YOU LITTLE TORMENT!' SHE CRIED."] + +It was my only chance of escape, and, regardless of where I might +land, I leaped wildly out. I escaped Miss Patricia's umbrella, it is +true, but, just my luck, I went bump into the cook's face, and then +into the crock of muffin batter which she held in her arms. She +dropped us both with a scream which brought everybody in the house +hurrying to the dining-room, and I scuttled up to the highest shelf of +the pantry, where I crouched trembling, behind some spice-boxes. I was +dripping with cold muffin batter, and more miserable and frightened +than I had ever been before in my whole life. + +I could hear excited voices in the dining-room. When Miss Patricia +first struck me with the umbrella, Phil had cried out: "Stop that! You +stop hitting my monkey!" Then as she chased me around the room, making +vain attempts to reach me as I scampered over chairs and up curtains, +he seemed to grow wild with rage. He was fairly beside himself and +bristled up like an angry little fighting-cock. "You're a mean old +thing," he shrieked, breaking over all bounds of respect, and +screaming out his words so loud that his father, passing through the +hall, heard the impudent rhyme he had made up the day before: + + "Old Aunt Pat, + You're mean as a rat!" + +It was just as he yelled this that the cook opened the pantry door, +and I made my fatal plunge into the dark and the crock of muffin +batter. + +As I hid behind the spice-boxes I heard Doctor Tremont tell Phil, in a +very stern voice, to march up-stairs, and stay there until he came for +him. It must have been nearly an hour that I hid on that shelf, +waiting for a chance to make my escape. The batter began to harden and +cake on me until I could not move without every hair on my body +pulling painfully. + +Things were set to rights in the dining-room after awhile and the +family had supper. Some bread and milk were sent up to Phil. Soon +after I reached the laundry, Stuart found me there. He turned the +hose on me and gave me a rough scrubbing. Then he wrapped me in a +piece of a blanket and took me up-stairs to dry before the fire in his +room. Phil had gone to bed, and was lying there sobbing, with his head +under the pillows when we came in. He wouldn't talk at first, but +after awhile he told Stuart that his father had given him a hard +whipping for speaking so disrespectfully to an old lady like Miss +Patricia, and that he could not go to the table again until he had +asked her pardon. That Phil vowed he would not do so long as he lived. +He had made up his mind to run away in the morning. Nobody treated him +right, and he didn't intend to stand it any longer. + +"But, Phil," said Stuart, "you know yourself, that it wasn't very nice +of Dago to go walking around the table through the butter and +applesauce, and all the things to eat. I don't wonder that Aunt +Patricia was provoked, 'specially when he has done so many other +things to tease her. She didn't hurt him much for all her whacking +around. I saw nearly as much of the fight as you did. She didn't hit +him more than one lime out of ten. I was perfectly willing that my +half of Dago should get what it deserved." + +At that, Phil cried still harder. "Well, if you say that," he sobbed, +giving his pillow an angry thump, "then you don't love Dago as much as +I do. You're against him, too. Nobody cares anything for either of us, +and I'll take him and go off with him in the morning. I'm going as +soon as it is light." + +But when the daylight came, Phil was not in such a hurry to go. He +still refused to ask his Aunt Patricia's pardon, so his breakfast was +sent up-stairs to him, and he ate in sulky silence. He waited until he +saw his father drive away down the street, and then he went in search +of Elsie. She is always wanting to do everything that he does, so he +had no trouble in persuading her to help him carry out his plans. + +"Put on the oldest, raggedest clothes you can find," he said to her, +"and tie an old handkerchief over your head so't you'll look as +beggary as possible. I'll tear some more holes in the old overalls +that I played in last summer, and pull part of the brim off my straw +hat. We'll take the music-box out of the hall, and put it in my little +red wheelbarrow, and you and me and Dago will start off through the +streets like the grind-organ man did yesterday, I planned it all last +night while everybody in the house was sound asleep. We'll sing when +the music-box plays songs, and you and Dago can dance when it plays +waltzes. I'll give you part of the money that we get to buy you the +prettiest doll in town. I'll take the rest and go off to the place +that I'm thinking about." + +He wouldn't tell her where the place was, although she begged him with +tears in her eyes. "Some place where they're not cruel to little boys +and monkeys," was all he would tell her. "Where they don't ever whip +them, and where they don't mind 'em getting into mischief once in +awhile." + +An hour later everything was ready for the start. Except for the +daintily embroidered ruffles of her white linen underskirt, that would +show below her old gingham dress, little Elsie might have been taken +for the sorriest beggar in town. The dress was faded and outgrown. The +little shawl she had pinned over her shoulders had one corner burned +out of it, and the edges of the hole were scorched and jagged. A +faded silk muffler that she had used in her doll-cradle was drawn +tightly over her tousled curls, and tied under her chin. + +Phil's outfit might have come from the ragbag, too, it was so tattered +and patched. But he had forgotten to take off his silver cuff-buttons, +and the shoes he wore looked sadly out of place below the grimy jeans +overalls. He was obliged to wear a pair of bright tan-coloured shoes, +so new that they squeaked. They were the only ones he had, for his old +ones had been thrown away the day before. At first he was tempted to +go barefoot, but the November wind was chilly, although the sun shone, +and he dared not risk it. + +It was ten o'clock by the court-house dial, and the bell was on the +last stroke, when little Elsie held open the alley-gate and Phil +trundled the red wheelbarrow through. I was perched on the music-box. +Rather an uncertain seat, I found it, as it slid back and forth at +every step. I had to hold on so tight that my arms were sore for two +days afterward. + +"Which way shall we go?" asked little Elsie, as she fastened the gate +behind us. Phil looked up and down the alley in an uncertain way, and +then said, "When the princes in the fairy tales start out into the +wide world to make their fortunes, they blow a leather up into the air +and follow that." + +"Here's one," cried Elsie, running forward to pick up a bit of fluffy +white down that had blown over from a pigeon-house on the roof of a +neighbouring stable. "I'll blow, and you say the charm." She puckered +up her rosy little mouth and gave a quick puff. + + "Feather, feather, when we blow, + Point the way that we should go," + +sang Phil. "West!" he exclaimed, as it sailed lazily across the alley +and over a high board fence. "That means that we are to go down toward +the cotton-mills. I don't know much about that part of town. Mostly +poor people live there, who look as if they hadn't much money to give +away. But we'll try it, anyhow." + +Picking up the barrow-handles, he trundled down the alley toward Pine +Street, with little Elsie holding fast to the tail of his tattered +jacket. We were off at last, to seek our fortunes in the wide, wide +world, and our hearts were light as we followed the feather. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +WHAT DAGO SAID TO THE MIRROR-MONKEY ON SATURDAY. + + +Such a day as that was! We enjoyed it at first, for the sun shone and +a crowd of dancing children followed us everywhere we went. We were in +a strange part of town, so no one recognised us, but more than one +woman looked sharply at little Elsie's embroidered ruffles, peeping +out below the old gingham dress, and at Phil's squeaky new shoes. + +"Have you run away, honey, or did your mammy dress you up that way and +send you out to beg?" asked a pleasant-voiced woman, with a baby in +her arms, as she leaned over a gate to drop a penny in Elsie's cup. +Elsie gave a startled glance at Phil, not knowing what to say, and +Phil, turning very red, moved away without answering. + +The music-box was an old-fashioned affair that wound up noisily with +a big key. It played several jerky little waltzes and four plaintive +old songs: "Ben Bolt," "The Last Rose of Summer," "Then You'll +Remember Me," and "Home, Sweet Home." The children had sung them so +often that they knew all the words, and their voices rang out lustily +at first; but, about the twentieth time the same old round of tunes +began, little Elsie drew a deep, tired breath. + +[Illustration] + +"Oh, Phil," she said, "I _can't_ sing those songs all over again. I'm +sick of them." She sat down on the curbstone, refusing to join in the +melody, clasping her hands around her knees, and rocking back and +forth as the shrill voice of the music-box piped on alone. + +"I just _hate_ 'Sweet Alice Ben Bolt,'" she complained. "Isn't it most +time to go home?" It was noon now. At the sound of the factory +whistles all our followers had deserted us, and gone home to dinner. +Phil sat down on the curbstone beside Elsie, and emptying the pennies +out of the little cup she had been carrying, gravely counted them. +"There's only eleven," he announced. "Of course we can't go home yet." + +The music-box droned out the last notes of "You'll Remember Me," gave +a click, paused an instant as if to take breath, and then started +mournfully on its last number, "Be it ever so humble, there's no place +like home." At the first sound of the familiar notes, Elsie laid her +head down on her knees and began to weep dismally. "I wish I was back +in my home, sweet home," she cried. "I'm _so_ tired and cold and +hungry. I'm nearly starved. Oh, brother, I wisht I hadn't runned away! +I don't _like_ to be a beggar," she wailed. + +Phil began patting her on the back. "Don't cry, sister," he begged. +"We'll go back to that bake-shop we passed a little while ago, and get +something to eat. Don't you remember how good it smelled? Come on! +You'll feel better when you've had a lunch. I'll spend every penny +we've got, if you'll only stop crying. We can make some more this +afternoon." + +Elsie wiped her eyes on her shawl, let him help her to her feet, and +obediently trotted after him as we went down the narrow back street, +through which we had passed a few moments before. It was not far to +the bakery. The opening of the door made a bell ring somewhere in the +rear of the shop, and a fat, motherly old German woman came waddling +to the front. Phil bought a bag of buns and another of little cakes, +and was turning to go out again when Elsie climbed up on a chair near +the stove, refusing to move. A cold wind had begun to blow outdoors, +and her hands and wrists showed red below her short sleeves. + +"I'm tired," she said, with an appealing glance of her big blue eyes +at the old woman. "Mayn't we stay here and rest while we eat the +cakes?" + +"Ach, yes, mein liebchen!" cried the motherly old soul, taking +Elsie's cold little hands in hers. "Come back mit me, where is one +leedle chair like yourself." + +She led the way into a tiny sitting-room at the rear of the shop, +where a canary in a cage and geraniums blooming in the window made it +seem like summer. Hot, spicy smells of good things baking, floated in +from ovens somewhere out of sight. + +As Elsie sank down into the little chair, with a deep sigh, Phil +trundled the wheelbarrow into the room, and for the first time the old +woman caught sight of me and the music-box. You should have heard her +exclamations and questions. She laughed at Phil's answers until her +fat sides shook. Little by little she found out the whole truth about +our running away, and seemed to think it very amusing. After we had +rested awhile, Phil offered to give her a private performance. As he +started to wind the music-box, she opened a door into a stairway and +called, "Oh, Meena! Make haste, once already, and bring der baby!" + +In answer to her call, a young woman came hurrying down the steps, +carrying a big fat baby, who stared at us solemnly with its round +blue eyes, and stuck its thumb in its mouth. But as the music started, +and I began my dancing, he kicked and crowed with delight. The more he +gurgled and cooed and waved his little fat hands, the broader the +smiles spread on the women's faces. I mention this because the more he +noticed us, the more his grandmother's heart seemed to warm toward us. +When the music stopped, she went out of the room and brought us each a +glass of milk and a little mince pie, hot from the oven. + +After we had eaten, Elsie got down on the rug and played with the +baby, although Phil kept insisting that it was time to go. One thing +after another delayed us until it was nearly the middle of the +afternoon before we started out again on the streets. The old woman +pinned Elsie's shawl around her more comfortably, kissed her on each +cheek, and told Phil to hurry home with her, that it was getting too +cold to be wandering around, standing on street corners. + +She watched us out of sight. As soon as we had turned a corner, Phil +looked ruefully into Elsie's empty cup. "If I had known she was going +to give us the milk and pie, I wouldn't have bought the buns," he +said. "We haven't made much headway, and it gets dark so soon, these +days. I'm afraid the feather fooled us about the way to go." + +We wandered on and on all the rest of that long afternoon, sometimes +playing before every door, and sometimes walking blocks before +stopping for a performance. Phil's new shoes tired his feet until he +could scarcely drag them, and little Elsie's lips were blue with cold. +At last when the music-box struck up "Home, Sweet Home" for what +seemed the ten hundreth time, her voice quavered through the first +line and stopped short with a sob. + +"Oh, Phil, I'm getting tireder and tireder! Can't you make that box +skip that song?" she begged. "If I hear it another time I just can't +stand it! I'll _have_ to turn around and go back home." + +Phil glanced anxiously at the clouded sky. The sun was so low it was +hidden by the tall buildings, and the darkness was coming on rapidly. + +"Well, come along!" he said, impatiently. "I s'pose I'll have to take +you home, cry-baby, but I'm not going in myself. We haven't any +money at all, hardly; not enough to take me even a tweety, weenty part +of the way to that place I'm going to, let alone enough to buy you +that doll. But that's the way with girls. They always spoil +everything." + +[Illustration: "ALL WENT WELL UNTIL WE REACHED AN ALLEY CROSSING."] + +Little Elsie rubbed her sleeve across her eyes and swallowed hard. "I +wouldn't ask to go back, brother, really and truly I wouldn't, but I'm +so cold and mizzible I feel most like I'm going to be sick." + +Phil looked at her little bare red hands and tear-stained face, and +said, gruffly, "Well, then, get on the wheelbarrow. You can sit on the +music-box and hold Dago in your lap, and I'll wheel you a piece until +you get rested." + +Elsie very willingly climbed up and took me in her lap. It was hard +work for Phil. He grew red in the face, and his arms ached, but he +kept bravely on, although he was out of breath from the hard pushing. +All went well until we reached an alley crossing. Phil, whose +attention was all on the wheel of his barrow, which he was trying to +steer safely between the cobblestones, did not see a long string of +geese waddling down the alley on their way home from the commons, +where they had been feeding all day. They came silently along in an +awkward, wavering line, as quietly as a procession of web-footed +ghosts, until they were almost upon us. Then the leader shot out his +wings with a hoarse cry, every goose in the procession followed his +example, and with a rush they flapped past us, half running, half +flying. It was done with such startling suddenness that it caused a +general upsetting of our party. Phil veered to one side, and over we +went in a heap, music-box, Elsie, barrow, and all, with myself on top. +There was a frightened scream from Elsie, followed by a steady +downpour of tears as Phil picked her up. She had struck her forehead +on a cobblestone, and a big blue bump was rapidly swelling above one +eye. Her nose was bleeding a little, too. Phil was so occupied in +trying to comfort her, and in wiping away the blood, that it was +several minutes before he thought of the music-box. When he picked it +up he found it was so badly broken that it would no longer play. + +"Oh, what will papa say!" cried Elsie. The little fellow made no +answer, but could scarcely keep from crying himself, as he lifted it +on the barrow, to start back home. + +"When will we be there, brother?" asked Elsie, when they had trudged +along for some time. She was holding on to the tail of his jacket, +sniffling dismally. Phil stopped, for they had reached a street +corner, and looked around. It was growing dusk. Then he turned to her +with a dazed, scared fate. + +"Oh, Sis," he cried, "I don't know what to do. This isn't the street +that I thought it was. I'm afraid we're lost!" + +They had reached the edge of the town by this time. Only one more +block of pretty suburban homes stood between them and the outskirting +fields. + +"I'll tell you what we'll do," said Phil, after a moment's pause, +bravely choking back his own fears at sight of his little sister's +frightened face. "See that house over there with the firelight shining +through the windows, so bright and warm? It looks as if kind people +lived there. We'll go and ask them to show us the way home." + +"I wish I was home now," mourned Elsie. "I wish I was all clean and +warm, sitting at the supper-table with my good clothes on, beside my +papa. Maybe we'll never find our way back, any more! Maybe he'll +never kiss me and say, 'Papa's dear little daughter,' again! He'll +think I'm dead. Maybe we'll have to go and live with beggars, and be +somebody's poor children all our life to punish us for running away; +and, oh, maybe we'll never have any 'home, sweet home' any more!" + +At the picture she made for herself, of the cheerful room with the +dear home faces gathered around the table, which she might never see +again, she began to sob wildly. The tears were falling so fast now +that she could hardly see, but stumbled blindly along, stumping her +tired toes at every step, and clinging fast to Phil's old jacket. + +They had almost reached the house with the friendly windows, when a +great iron gate just ahead of them swung open, and an elegantly +dressed old lady walked out to step into a carriage, drawn up at the +curbstone. Behind her came another old lady, tall and stately, and +with something so familiar in appearance that both the children stood +still in astonishment. She was looking about her with sharp, +eagle-like eyes. Her skirts swished softly as she walked, and the +little bunches of gray curls on each side of her face bobbed gently +under her imposing black bonnet. + +"Aunt Patricia!" screamed little Elsie, darting forward and clasping +her arms around the astonished old lady's knees. "Oh, Aunt Patricia! +We're lost! _Please_ take us home!" + +If a dirty little grizzly bear had suddenly sprung up in the path and +begun hugging her, Miss Patricia could not have been more amazed than +she was at the sight of the ragged child who clung to her. She pushed +back the old silk muffler from the tousled curls, and looked +wonderingly on the child's blood-stained face with the blue bump still +swelling on the forehead. + +"Caroline Driggs," she called to the lady who stood waiting for her at +the carriage door, "am I dreaming? I never saw my nephew's children in +such a plight before. I can scarcely believe they are his." + +"Oh, we are! We are!" screamed little Elsie. "I'll just _die_ if you +say we are not!" + +Phil stood by, too shamefaced to plead for himself, yet fearful that +she might take Elsie and leave him to his fate, because he had refused +to apologise for his rude speech. + +Miss Patricia had been spending the day with Mrs. Driggs, who was an +old friend of hers, and who was now about to take her home in her +carriage. Mrs. Driggs seemed to understand the situation at a glance. +"Come on," she said. "We'll put the children in here with us; the +monkey and the rest of the gypsy outfit can go up with the coachman. +Here, Sam, take this little beast on the seat with you, and lift up +the barrow, too." + +If those children were half as glad to sink down on the comfortable +cushions as I was to snuggle under the coachman's warm lap-robe, then +I am sure that Mrs. Driggs's elegant carriage never held three more +grateful hearts. As we climbed to our places I heard Mrs. Driggs say, +kindly: "So the little ones were masquerading, were they? It is a cold +day for such sport." + +Miss Patricia answered, in a voice that trembled with displeasure: +"Really, Caroline, I am more deeply mortified than I can say, to think +that any one bearing my name--the proud, unsullied name of +Tremont--could go parading the streets, in the garb of a beggar, +asking for alms. I cannot trust myself to speak of it calmly." + +All the way home I felt sorry for Phil. I didn't envy him having to +sit there, facing Miss Patricia, with his conscience hurting him as it +must have done. That is the advantage of being a monkey. We have no +consciences to trouble us. I didn't envy his home-coming, either, +although I knew he would be glad enough to creep into his warm, soft +bed. His feet were badly blistered from his long tramp in his new +shoes. + +Stuart looked after my comfort, and I was soon curled up snugly on a +cushion before the fire. Phil and Elsie had a hot bath, and hot bread +and milk, and were put to bed at once. Elsie was coughing at nearly +every breath, and the doctor seemed troubled when he came up to rub +some soothing lotion on the poor little swelled forehead. He brought +something for Phil's blistered feet, too, but he never spoke a word +all the time he was putting it on. + +After it was done he stood looking at him very gravely. Then he said: +"Your little sister tells me that you took her out to dance and sing +in the streets to-day to earn money, in order that you may run away +from home. Is that so?" + +"Yes, sir," answered Phil, in a very faint voice. + +"So you are tired of your home," continued the doctor, "and think you +could find kinder treatment among strangers who care nothing for you. +I am sorry that my little son has come to such a conclusion. But if +you are determined to leave us, there is no necessity for you to slip +off like a thief in the night. Winter is coming on, and you will need +all your warm clothes. Better take time to pack them properly, and +collect whatever of your belongings you want to keep. I am very much +afraid that this day's work is going to make your little sister ill. +No doubt you will feel worse for it yourself, and will need a good +rest before starting out. Maybe you'd better wait until Monday, before +you turn your back for ever on your home and family." + +The doctor waited a moment, but Phil made no answer. After waiting +another moment, still without a word from Phil, the doctor said, "Good +night, my son," and walked down-stairs into the library. + +Now, I know well enough that, when we started out in the morning, Phil +was fully determined to run away from home, as soon as he could earn +enough money to take him. I couldn't understand what had changed his +mind so completely. You can imagine my surprise when he began to sob, +"Oh, papa! papa! You didn't kiss me good night and you don't care a +bit if I run away! Oh, I don't want to go now! I don't _want_ to!" + +It sounded so pitiful that I got up off my cushion and walked over to +the bed. All that I could do was to take his head in my arms and rub +it and pat it and rub it again. I think it comforted him a little, +although he sobbed out at first: "Oh, Dago, you're the only friend +I've got! It's awful when a little boy's mother is dead, and there +isn't anybody in the whole world to love him but a monkey!" + +The door was open into Elsie's room. She heard what he said, and in a +minute, she came pattering across the carpet in her little bare feet +and climbed up on the bed beside me. + +"Don't say that, brother," she begged, leaning over and kissing him. +"Dago isn't the only one that loves you, 'cause there's me. Don't +cry." + +"But, oh," wailed Phil, "papa didn't say one word about my staying! He +doesn't care if I run away. He never once asked me not to, and I +believe he'll be glad when I'm gone, 'cause he can't bear to see Aunt +Patricia worried, and everything I do seems to worry her. She says she +doesn't understand boys, and I s'pose it's best for me to go. But I +don't want to. _Aow, I don't want to!_" + +By this time he had worked himself up into such a spasm of crying that +he could not stop, for all little Elsie's begging. She wiped his eyes +on the sheet with her little dimpled hands, and kissed him a dozen +times. Then I think she must have grown frightened at his sobs, for +she slipped off the bed to the floor, "I'll tell papa that you don't +want to go," she said, trailing out of the room in her long white +nightgown. She had to hold it up in front to keep from tripping, and +her little bare feet went patter, patter, down the long stairs to the +library. Wondering what would happen next, I followed her into the +hall, and swung by my tail over the banister. + +Doctor Tremont was sitting in a big armchair before the fire, with his +head in his hands. He looked very much troubled over something. She +opened the door, and ran up to him. + +"Why, Elsie, child, what is the matter?" he cried, catching her in his +arms. "What do you mean by running around the house in your nightgown? +Doesn't my little daughter know that it will make her cough worse, and +maybe make her very, very ill?" + +He started quickly up the stairs with her, to carry her back to bed. +She clasped her arms around his neck, and laid her soft pink cheek +against his. "Oh, daddy dear," I heard her say, "Phil is crying and +crying up there in the dark, and the monkey's patting his head, trying +to make him stop. He's crying because you don't love him any more. He +said you didn't kiss him good night, and you don't care if he runs +away, and he hasn't a friend in the world but me and the monkey. He +feels awful bad about having to leave home. Oh, daddy dear, _please_ +tell him he can stay!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +WHAT DAGO TOLD THE MIRROR-MONKEY ON SUNDAY. + + +As soon as Elsie was put back to bed, Doctor Tremont came into the +room where I was still trying to comfort Phil, for I had skipped back +to him when they started up the stairs. Stirring the fire in the grate +until it blazed brightly, he turned to look at Phil. There was a long +silence; then he said, "Phil, come here, my boy. Come and sit on my +knee by the fire. I want to talk to you awhile." + +His voice was so kind and gentle that it seemed to me nobody could +have been afraid of him then, but Phil climbed out of bed very slowly, +as if he did not want to obey. Wrapping him in a warm, fleecy blanket, +the doctor drew him over to a big rocking-chair in front of the fire, +and sat down with him on his knee. I crawled back to my cushion on the +hearth. + +For a little while there was nothing said. The old chair crooned a +comforting lullaby of _creakity-creak_, _creakity-creak_, as the +doctor rocked back and forth, with the boy's curly head on his +shoulder. At last he said: "You think that I am unkind, Phil, because +I want to send your pet away, and cruel because I punished you for +speaking rudely to your Aunt Patricia. Now, I am going to tell you her +story, and maybe you will understand her better. The truth is, you do +not understand your Aunt Patricia, or why many of the little things +you do should annoy her. I want you to put yourself in her place as +near as you can, and see how differently you will look at things from +her standpoint. + +"She was the only child in a houseful of grown people, and growing up +among prim elderly persons made her orderly and exact in everything +she did. When she was a very little girl she was sent to a strict, +old-fashioned school every morning, where she learned to work samplers +as well as to read and spell. They used to tell that, at the age of +seven, she came home one day with two prizes which she had taken. One +was for scholarship, and one was for neatness in her needlework. +When she brought them home, her grandmother (that is your +great-great-grandmother, you know) praised her for the first; but her +grandfather (the one whose portrait Stuart shot) said: 'Nay, it is for +the neatness that the little lass should be most commended, for it is +ever a pleasing virtue in a woman.' Then he gave her a gold dollar, to +encourage her in always being neat and exact. She was so proud of it +that nothing could have persuaded her to spend it. She had a hole +bored in it so that she could hang it on a ribbon around her neck. For +a long, long time she wore it that way. She has often said to me that +the sight of it was a daily reminder of what her grandfather wanted +her to be, and that it helped her to form those habits of orderliness +and neatness in which her family took such pride. Long after she +stopped wearing the little coin, the sight of it used to recall the +old proverbs that she heard so often, such as '"A stitch in time saves +nine," Patricia,' or, 'Remember, my dear, "have a place for +everything, and everything in its place."' It used to remind her of +the praise they gave her, too. Her grandfather's 'Well done, my good +little lass,' was a reward that made her happy for hours. + +"Her room was always in perfect order. Even her toys were never left +scattered about the house. She has her old doll packed away now, in +lavender, in nearly as good condition as when it was given to her, +sixty years ago. You can see how anything would annoy her that would +break in on these lifelong habits of hers. She was a child that took +great pleasure in her little keepsakes, and the longer she owned them +the dearer they became. She kept that little gold coin, that her +grandfather gave her, for over half a century; and that is the dollar +that Dago lost. Do you wonder that she grieved over the loss of it? + +"The old blue china dragon is one of her earliest recollections. It +used to sit on a cabinet in her grandmother's room, and there were +always sugar-plums in it, as there have been ever since it was given +to her. I can remember it myself when I was a boy. One of the +pleasures of my visit to the old house was listening in the firelight +to grandfather's 'dragon tales,' as we called them. They were about +all sorts of wonderful things, and we called them that because, while +he told them, the old dragon was always passed around and we sat and +munched sugar-plums. That jar has been in the family so long that your +great-great-grandfather remembered it when he was a boy,--and that is +the jar that Dago broke. + +"There were very few children in the neighbourhood where your Aunt +Patricia lived. For a long time she had no playmates except the little +boy who lived on the adjoining place, Donald McClain. But he came over +nearly every day for four years, and they grew to love each other like +brother and sister. It was a lonesome time for the little Patricia +when the McClains moved away. Donald brought her a tiny carnelian ring +the day he came over for the last time. 'To remember me by,' he said, +and she put it on her finger and remembered him always, as the +kindest, manliest little playmate any child ever had. + +"She grew up after awhile to be a beautiful young girl. I will show +you her miniature sometime, with the pearls around it. The little +carnelian ring was too small then, and she had to lay it away; but she +never forgot her old playmate. When she was nineteen her mother died, +and, soon after, her father lost his eyesight, and she gave up all her +time to caring for him. She sang to him, read to him, led him around +the garden, and amused him constantly. She never went anywhere without +him, never thought of her own pleasure, but stayed alone with him in +the quiet old house, year after year, until he died. + +"Donald came back once after he was a man, and had been through +college, and stayed all summer in his old home. He was going to +Scotland in the fall. Before he left, he asked Aunt Patricia to be his +wife and go with him. She said, 'I would, Donald, if I were not needed +so much here at home; but how could I go away and leave my poor old +blind father?' + +"He would not take no for an answer, but went away, saying that he +would be back again in a year, and then they would take care of the +dear old father together. But when the year was over, the ship that +was bringing him home went down at sea in a storm, and all that Aunt +Patricia had left of his was his letters, and the little carnelian +ring he had given her, when they were children, to 'remember him by.' +And that is the ring that Dago lost." + +Phil raised his head quickly from his father's shoulder. "Oh, papa!" +he cried. "I'm so sorry! I never could have said anything mean to her +if I had known all that." + +His father went on. "That is why I am telling you this now, my son. +Maybe children could understand old people better, if they knew how +much they had suffered in their long lives, how much they had lost, +and how much they had given up for other people's sakes. Aunt Patricia +has been like a mother to me ever since I was left without any, when I +was Stuart's age. She sent me to college, she gave me a home with her +until I was successfully started in my profession, and has shown me a +thousand other kindnesses that I have not been able to repay. I have +been able to make up to her what she has spent in money, but a +lifetime would not be long enough to cancel my debt to her for all the +loving care she has given me. But even if she hadn't been so kind; +even if she were crabbed and cross and unreasonable, I couldn't let a +son of mine be rude to an old lady under my roof. One never knows what +troubles have whitened the hair and made the wrinkles come in the +temper as well as the face. Old age must be respected, no matter how +unlovely. + +"As for Aunt Patricia,--if you would only remember how good she was to +you after your accident, how she nursed you, and waited on you, and +read to you hour after hour,--she has been tender and loving to all of +you, especially little Elsie, and is trying to help me bring up my +children as best we can, alone. And, Phil, my boy, sometimes it is as +hard for us as it is for you, to always know what is best to do +without the little mother's help." + +Phil's arm stole around his father's neck. "I'll ask Aunt Patricia's +pardon in the morning, the very first thing," he said, in a low voice. +"I'll tell her that I didn't understand her, just like she didn't +understand me, and after this I'll be like the three wise monkeys of +Japan." + +"How is that?" asked his father, smiling. + +"Why, never say or hear or see more than I ought to. Keep my hands +over my eyes or ears or mouth, whenever I'm tempted to be rude. +Instead of thinking that she's fussy and particular, I'll only see the +wrinkles in her face that the trouble made, and I'll remember how good +she's been to you and all of us." + +His father hugged him closer. "If you can always remember to do that," +he said, "your part of the world will certainly be a happy place to +live in. If you can be blind and deaf to other people's faults and +speak only pleasant things." + +"Papa," said Phil, in the pause that followed, hiding his face on his +father's shoulder and speaking with a tremble in his voice, "I'm +mighty sorry I did so many bad things to-day: broke the music-box, and +ran away with Elsie, and mortified the family name, begging on the +streets. That's what Aunt Patricia told Mrs. Driggs. I never want to +run away again as long as I live. Oh, if you'll only forgive me and +let me stay, I'd rather be your little boy than anybody else's in the +whole world!" + +The doctor gathered him closer in his arms and kissed him. "Do you +think that anything in the whole world could make me give you up, my +little Philip?" he said. "You have been a great worry to me sometimes, +but you are one of my very greatest blessings, and I love you--oh, my +child, you will never know how much!" + +A great, happy "bear-hug" almost choked him, as Phil's arms were +clasped about his neck. Then he said, "I think we understand each +other all the way around, now. Shut your eyes, little man, and I'll +rock you to sleep." + +Phil snuggled down against him like a little bird in a warm nest, and +there they sat in the firelight together. The old rocking-chair threw +a giant shadow on the wall as it swung slowly back and forth, back and +forth. "_Creakity-creak_," droned the rockers. "_Creakity-creak_, +_squeakity-squeak_," and to the music of their drowsy song Phil fell +fast asleep in his father's arms. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +DAGO BIDS FAREWELL TO THE MIRROR-MONKEY. + + +Hey there, Ring-tail, I've just slipped in a moment to say good-bye. +I'm off for California in the morning. It seems that I'm at the bottom +of all the trouble in this family, so I'm to be shipped by the fast +express. But you needed waste any sympathy on _me_. I am going back to +the old California garden among the vines and the pepper-trees, where +I shall miss all the winter's snow and ice that I have been dreading. + +The boys do not feel that they are giving me up entirely, for they +will see me once a year when they visit their grandfather. I am sorry +to leave them, but the kindest master in the world couldn't make me as +happy as the freedom of the warm, wide outdoors. Next time you hear of +me I shall be back in that land of summer, watching the water splash +over the marble mermaid in the fountain, and the goldfish swim by in +the sun. + +Think of me, sometimes, Ring-tail; not as you have known me here, +caged in a man-made house, and creeping about in everybody's way, but +think of me as the happiest, freest creature that ever swung from a +bough. Free as the birds and the bees in the old high-walled garden, +and as happy, too, as they, when the sunshine turns to other sunshine +all the Gold of Ophir roses. Good-bye! old fellow! + +[Illustration] + + +THE END. + + + + Works of Annie Fellows Johnston + + THE LITTLE COLONEL SERIES + + The Little Colonel $ .50 + The Giant Scissors .50 + Two Little Knights of Kentucky .50 + + (The three stories above are also published in one volume, entitled + The Little Colonel Stories, $1.50.) + + The Little Colonel's House Party 1.00 + The Little Colonel's Holidays 1.50 + The Little Colonel's Hero _net_, 1.20 + The Little Colonel at Boarding-School + _net_, 1.20 + + + OTHER BOOKS + + + Big Brother .50 + Ole Mammy's Torment .50 + The Story of Dago .50 + Cicely _net_, .40 + Aunt 'Liza's Hero _net_, .40 + Asa Holmes 1.00 + Flip's "Islands of Providence" 1.00 + Songs Ysame 1.00 + + + L. C. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Story of Dago + +Author: Annie Fellows-Johnston + +Illustrator: Etheldred B. Barry + +Release Date: December 31, 2005 [EBook #17429] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF DAGO *** + + + + +Produced by David Garcia, Richard J. Shiffer and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Kentuckiana Digital Library.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1>THE STORY OF DAGO</h1> +<br /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 320px;"> +<a name="frontispiece" id="frontispiece"></a> +<img src="images/front.png" width="320" height="450" alt=""IT WAS HER SWINGING AND JERKING ON THE ROPE THAT RANG +THE BELL."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"IT WAS HER SWINGING AND JERKING ON THE ROPE THAT RANG +THE BELL."</span> +</div> +<br /> + +<h1>THE STORY OF DAGO</h1> +<h3>BY</h3> +<h2>ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON</h2> +<br /> +<h4> +AUTHOR OF "THE LITTLE COLONEL," "BIG BROTHER,"<br /> +"OLE MAMMY'S TORMENT," "THE GATE OF THE<br /> +GIANT SCISSORS," "TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS<br /> +OF KENTUCKY," ETC.</h4> +<br /> +<h4>Illustrated by</h4> +<h3>ETHELDRED B. BARRY</h3> +<br /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 428px;"> +<img src="images/shield.png" width="150" height="148" alt="Shield" title="" /> +</div> + +<h4>BOSTON<br /> +L.C. PAGE & COMPANY<br /> +1900</h4> +<br /> +<br /> +<h5>Copyright, 1900<br /> +BY L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY<br /> +(Incorporated)</h5> +<br /> +<br /> +<h4><span class="sc">to</span><br /> +<br /> +"Gin the Monk"<br /> +<br /> +<span class="sc">whose pranks are linked<br /> +with the boyhood memories of dr. gavin fulton,<br /> +one of the best of physicians and friends,<br /> +this story of dago<br /> +is respectfully inscribed</span></h4> + +<p> <a name="Contents" id="Contents"></a></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"> +<img src="images/contents.png" width="350" height="233" alt="CONTENTS" title="" /> +</div> + +<ul class="TOC" style="list-style-type:upper-roman;margin-left:1em;font-variant:small-caps;"> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_I">This Is the Story that Dago Told to the Mirror-monkey on Monday +<span class="ralign">1</span></a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_II">What Dago Said to the Mirror-monkey on Tuesday +<span class="ralign">16</span></a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_III">What the Mirror-monkey Heard on Wednesday +<span class="ralign">32</span></a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">The Tale the Mirror-monkey Heard on Thursday +<span class="ralign">46</span></a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_V">What Dago Told on Friday +<span class="ralign">60</span></a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">What Dago Said to the Mirror-monkey on Saturday +<span class="ralign">72</span></a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">What Dago Told the Mirror-monkey on Sunday +<span class="ralign">92</span></a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">Dago Bids Farewell to the Mirror-monkey +<span class="ralign">102</span></a></li> +</ul> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/illust.png" width="450" height="165" alt="s: ILLVSTRATIONS" title="" /> +</div> + + +<ul class="TOC" style="list-style-type:none;margin-left:1em;font-variant:small-caps;"> +<li><span class="ralign">PAGE</span><br /></li> +<li><a href="#frontispiece">"It was her swinging and jerking on the rope that rang<br />the bell" + <span class="ralign"><i>Frontispiece</i></span></a></li> +<li><a href="#Page_9">"The gardener fished her out of the fountain"<span class="ralign">9</span></a></li> +<li><a href="#Page_19">"Her hands were folded in her lap"<span class="ralign">19</span></a></li> +<li><a href="#Page_27">Matches's Funeral<span class="ralign">25</span></a></li> +<li><a href="#Page_42">"She fairly stiffened with horror"<span class="ralign">43</span></a></li> +<li><a href="#Page_48">"At last the blue cushion was empty, and I sat down on it"<span class="ralign">48</span></a></li> +<li><a href="#Page_65">"'Oh, you little torment!' she cried"<span class="ralign">63</span></a></li> +<li><a href="#Page_73">"Their voices rang out lustily"<span class="ralign">73</span></a></li> +<li><a href="#Page_81">"All went well until we reached an alley crossing"<span class="ralign">81</span></a></li> +<li><a href="#Page_103">"Good-bye! old fellow!"<span class="ralign">103</span></a></li> +</ul> + + +<hr /> +<h1>THE STORY OF DAGO.</h1> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>THIS IS THE STORY THAT DAGO TOLD TO THE MIRROR-MONKEY ON MONDAY.</h3> + +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of + Contents</a></p> + +<p>Here I am at last, Ring-tail! The boys have gone to school, thank +fortune, and little Elsie has been taken to kindergarten. Everybody in +the house thinks that I am safe up-stairs in the little prison of a +room that they made for me in the attic. I suppose they never thought +how easy it would be for me to swing out of the open window and climb +down the lightning-rod. Wouldn't Miss Patricia be surprised if she +knew that I am down here now in the parlour, talking to you, and +sitting up here among all these costly, breakable things!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> + +<p>I have been wanting to get back into this room ever since that first +morning that I slipped in and found you sitting here in the +looking-glass, but the door has been shut every time that I have tried +to come in. Do you remember that morning? You were the first ring-tail +monkey that I had seen since I left the Zoo, and you looked so much +like my twin brother, who used to swing with me in the tangled vines +of my native forests, and pelt me with cocoanut-shells, and chatter to +me all day long under those hot, bright skies, that I wanted to put my +arms around you and hug you; but the looking-glass was between us. +Some day I shall break that glass, and crawl back behind there with +you.</p> + +<p>It is a pity that you are dumb and do not seem to be able to answer +me, for if you could talk to me about the old jungle days I would not +be so homesick. Still, it is some comfort to know that you are not +deaf, and I intend to come in here every morning after the children go +to school; that is, every morning that I find the door open. I've had +a very exciting life in the past, and I think that you'll find my +experiences interesting.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> + +<p>Of course I'll not begin at the beginning, for, being a ring-tail +monkey yourself, you know what life is like in the great tropical +forests. Perhaps it would be better to skip the circus part, too, for +it was a very unhappy time that followed, after I was stolen from home +by some men who came on a big ship, and carried me away to be sold to +a travelling showman.</p> + +<p>It makes my back ache to this day to think of the ring-master's whip. +I was as quick to learn as any of the other monkeys who were in +training, but an animal who has done nothing all his life but climb +and play can't learn the ways of a human being all in one week. I was +taught to ride a pony and drive a team of greyhounds, and to sit at a +table and feed myself with a silver folk. One half-hour I was made to +be a gentleman, and wear a dress suit, and tip my hat to the ladies, +and the next I would be expected to do something entirely different; +be a policeman, maybe, and arrest a rowdy dog in boxing-gloves. Oh, I +couldn't begin to tell you the things I was expected to do, from +drilling like a soldier to wheeling a doll carriage and smoking a +pipe. Sometimes when I grew confused, and misunderstood the signals +and did<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> things all wrong, the ring-master would swing his whip until +it cracked like a pistol, and shout out, in a terrible voice, "Oh, you +stupid little beast! What's the matter with you?" That always +frightened me so that it gave me the shivers, and then he would shout +at me again until I was still more confused and terrified, and +couldn't do anything to please him.</p> + +<p>Stupid little beast indeed! I wished sometimes that I could have had +him captive, back in the jungles of the old home forest, just to have +seen which would have been the stupid one there. How long would it +have taken him to have learned an entirely different way of living, I +wonder. How many moons before he could swing by his hands and hunt for +his food in the tree-tops? He might have learned after awhile where +the wild paw-paws hang thickest, and where the sweetest, plumpest +bananas grow; but when would he ever have mastered all the wood-lore +of the forest folk,—or gained the quickness of eye and ear and nose +that belongs to all the wise, wild creatures? Oh, how I longed to see +him at the mercy of our old enemies, the Snake-people! One of those +pythons, for instance, "who could slip along the branches<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> as quietly +as moss grows." That would have given him a worse fit of shivers than +the ones he used to give me.</p> + +<p>I'll not talk about such a painful subject any longer, but you may be +sure that I was glad when something happened to the show. The owner +lost all his money, and had to sell his animals and go out of the +business. After that I had a very comfortable winter in a zoological +garden out West, near where we stranded. Then an old white-haired man +from California bought me to add to his private collection of monkeys. +He had half a dozen or so in his high-walled garden.</p> + +<p>It was a beautiful place, hot and sunny like my old home, and full of +palm-trees and tangled vines and brilliant flowers. The most beautiful +thing in it was a great rose-tree which he called Gold of Ophir. It +shook its petals into a splashing fountain where goldfish were always +swimming around and around, and it was hard to tell which was the +brightest, the falling rose-leaves, or the tiny goldfish flashing by +in the sun.</p> + +<p>There was a lady who used to lie in a hammock under the roses every +day and smile at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> my antics. She was young, I remember, and very +pretty, but her face was as white as the marble mermaid in the +fountain. The old gentleman and his wife always sat beside her when +she lay in the hammock. Sometimes he read aloud, sometimes they +talked, and sometimes a long silence would fall upon them, when the +splashing of the fountain and the droning of the bees would be the +only sound anywhere in the garden.</p> + +<p>When they talked, it was always of the same thing: the children she +had left at home,—Stuart and Phil and little Elsie. I did not listen +as closely as I might have done had I known what a difference those +children were to make in my life. I little thought that a day was +coming when they were to carry me away from the beautiful garden that +I had grown to love almost like my old home. But I heard enough to +know that they were as mischievous as the day is long, and that they +kept their poor old great-aunt Patricia in a woful state of nervous +excitement from morning till night. I gathered, besides, that their +father was a doctor, away from home much of the time. That was why +their great-aunt had them in charge.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> + +<p>Their mother had come out to her father's home in California to grow +strong and well. The sun burned a pink into the blossoms of the +oleander hedges, and the wind blew life into the swaying branches of +the pepper-trees, but neither seemed to make her any better. After +awhile she could not even be carried out to her place in the hammock. +Then they sent for Doctor Tremont and the children.</p> + +<p>The first that I knew of their arrival, the two boys came whooping +down the paths after the gardener, shouting, "Show us the monkeys, +David! Show us the monkeys! Which one is Dago, and which one is +Matches?"</p> + +<p>I did not want to come down for fear that Stuart might treat me as he +had done Elsie's kitten. I had heard a letter read, which told how he +had tried to cure it of fits. He gave it a shock with his father's +electric battery, and turned the current on so strong that he killed +it. Not knowing but that he might try some trick on me, I held back +until I saw him feeding peanuts to Matches. I never could bear her. +She is the only monkey in the garden that I have never been on +friendly terms with, so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> I came down at once to get my share of +peanuts, and hers, too, if possible.</p> + +<p>I must say that I took a great fancy to both the boys; they were so +friendly and good-natured. They each had round chubby faces, and hard +little fists. There was a wide-awake look in their big, honest, gray +eyes, and their light hair curled over their heads in little tight +rings. Elsie was only five,—a restless, dimpled little bunch of +mischief, always getting into trouble, because she would try to do +everything that her brothers did.</p> + +<p>The gardener fished her out of the fountain twice in the week she was +there. She was reaching for the goldfish with her fat little hands, +and toppled in, head first. Phil began the week by getting a bee-sting +on his lip, and a bite on the cheek from a parrot that he was teasing. +As for Stuart, I think he had climbed every tree on the place before +the first day was over, and torn his best clothes nearly off his back. +The gardener had a sorry time of it while they stayed. He complained +that "a herd of wild buffalo turned loose to rend and destroy" would +not have done as much damage to his fruit and flowers as they. "Not as +they means<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> to do it, I don't think," he said. "But they're so +chock-full of <i>go</i> that they fair runs away with their selves." The +gardener's excitement did not long last, however.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 404px;"> +<img src="images/021.png" width="404" height="450" alt="" title="" /> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> + +<p>There came a day when there was no noise in the garden. The boys +wandered around all morning without playing, now and then wiping their +eyes on their jacket sleeves, and talking in low tones. Once they +threw themselves down on the grass and hid their faces, and cried and +sobbed, until their grandfather came out and led them away. The blinds +were all drawn next morning, and the gardener came and cut down nearly +all his lilies, and great armfuls of the Gold of Ophir roses to carry +into the house.</p> + +<p>Another quiet day went by, and then there was such a rumbling of +carriage wheels outside the garden, that I climbed up a tree and +looked over the high walls. There was a long, slow procession winding +up the white mountain road toward a far-away grove of pines. I knew +then what had happened. They were taking the children's mother to the +cemetery, and they would have to go home without her. "Poor children," +I thought, "and poor old great-aunt Patricia."</p> + +<p>The next evening I heard the old gentleman tell David to bring Matches +and me into the house. The next thing I knew I was dropped into a big +bandbox with holes in the lid, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> somebody was buckling a +shawl-strap around it. Then I heard the old gentleman say to Doctor +Tremont, "Tom, I don't want to add to the inconveniences of your +journey, but I should like to send these monkeys along to help amuse +the boys. Maybe they'll be some comfort to them. Dago is for Stuart, +and Matches is for Phil. It would be a good idea to keep them in their +boxes to-night on the sleeping-car. They are unusually well behaved +little animals, but it would be safer to keep them shut up until the +boys are awake to look after them."</p> + +<p>You can imagine my feelings when I realised that I was to be sent +away. I shrieked and chattered with rage, but no one paid any +attention to me. I was obliged to settle down in my box in sulky +silence. In a little while I could feel myself being carried down the +porch steps. Then the carriage door slammed and we jolted along in the +dark for a long time. I knew when we reached the depot by the bright +light streaming through the holes in my box-lid. I was carried up the +steps into the sleeping-car, and for the next quarter of an hour it +seemed to me that my box changed position every two minutes. The +porter was getting us settled for the night<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> He was about to poke the +box that held me under the berth where little Elsie and her nurse were +to sleep, when Stuart called him from the berth above, into which he +had just climbed. So I was tossed up as if I had been an ordinary +piece of baggage, the porter little knowing what was strapped so +carefully inside the bandbox.</p> + +<p>Doctor Tremont and Phil had the section just across the aisle from +ours, and Phil carried his box up the step-ladder himself, and stowed +Matches carefully away in one corner before he began to take off his +shoes. When the curtains were all drawn and the car-lights turned down +low so that every one could sleep, Stuart sat up and began unbuckling +the strap around my box. I knew enough to keep still when he took the +lid off and gently stroked me. I had no intention of being sent back +to the baggage-car, if keeping quiet would help me to escape the +conductor's eyes.</p> + +<p>Stuart stroked me for a moment, and then, cautiously drawing aside his +curtains, thrust his head out and looked up and down the aisle. +Everything was quiet. Then he gave the softest kind of a whistle, so +faint that it seemed little more than the echo of one; but Phil +heard,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> and instantly his head was poked out between his curtains. +Stuart held me up and grinned. Immediately Phil held up Matches and +grinned. After a funny pantomime by which, with many laughable +gestures, each boy made the other understand that he intended to allow +his pet freedom all night, they drew in their heads and lay down.</p> + +<p>Stuart wanted me to sleep on the pillow beside him, but I was still +sulky, and retired to my box at his feet. In spite of the jar and +rumble of the train I slept soundly for a long time. It must have been +somewhere about the middle of the night when I was awakened all of a +sudden by a fearful crash and the feeling that I was pitching headlong +down a frightful precipice.</p> + +<p>The next instant I struck the floor with a force that nearly stunned +me. When I gathered my wits together I found myself in the middle of +the aisle, bruised and sore, with the bandbox on top of me.</p> + +<p>We had been going with the usual terrific speed of a fast express, +down steep mountain grades, sweeping around dizzy curves, and now we +had come to a sudden stop without reason or warning. It gave the train +such a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> tremendous jar that windows rattled, baggage lurched from the +racks, the porter sprawled full-length on the floor as I had done, and +more than one head was bumped unmercifully against the hard woodwork +of the berths. Everybody sprang up to ask what was the matter. Babies +cried and women scolded and men swore. All I could do was to whimper +with pain and fright until Stuart came scrambling after me. My +shoulder was bruised and my head aching, and no one can imagine my +terrible fright at such a rude awakening. If I had not been in the +box, I might have saved myself when the crash came, but I was +powerless to catch at anything when it went bump over on to the floor.</p> + +<p>The brakeman and conductor came running in to see what was the matter. +Nobody knew why the train had stopped. It was several minutes before +they discovered the cause, but I had found out while Stuart was +climbing back to bed with me. Swinging by her hands from the bell-rope +which ran down the centre of the car, was that miserable little +monkey, Matches, making a fool of herself and everybody else. Who but +that little imp of mischief would have done such a thing as to get up +in the middle of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> the night and go through a lot of gymnastic +exercises on the bell-rope? It was her swinging and jerking on the +rope that rang the bell and brought the engine to that sudden stop.</p> + +<p>I don't know how the doctor settled it with the conductor. I know that +there was a great deal said, and Matches and I were both sent back to +the baggage-car. All the rest of the journey I had an aching head and +a bruised shoulder to keep me in mind of that hateful little Matches, +and I resolved long before we reached home that I would do something +to get even with her, before we had lived together a week.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>WHAT DAGO SAID TO THE MIRROR-MONKEY ON TUESDAY.</h3> + +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of + Contents</a></p> + +<p>Ring-tail, what do you think of Miss Patricia? I'm afraid of her. The +night we came home she met us in the hall, looking so tall and severe +in her black gown, with those prim little bunches of gray curls on +each side of her face, that I went under a chair. Then I thought I +must have misjudged her, for there were tears in her eyes when she +kissed the children, and I heard her whisper as she turned away, "poor +little motherless lambs!" Still I have seen so many people in the +course of my travels that I rarely make a mistake in reading +character. As soon as she caught sight of me I knew that my first +thought had been right. Her thin Roman nose went up in the air, and +her sharp eyes glared at me so savagely that I could think of nothing +else but an old war eagle, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> arrows in its talons. You may have +seen them on silver dollars.</p> + +<p>"Tom Tremont," she exclaimed, "you don't mean to say that you have +brought home a <i>monkey</i>!" I wish you could have heard the disgust in +her voice. "Of all the little pests in the world, they are certainly +the worst!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Aunt Patricia," he answered. "They've been a great pleasure to +the boys."</p> + +<p>"<i>They!</i>" she gasped. "You don't mean to say that there are <i>two</i>!" +Then she saw Matches climbing up on Phil's shoulder, and words failed +her.</p> + +<p>"Yes; their grandfather gave each of the boys one of his pets. He said +that they would be company for them on the way home, and would help +divert their thoughts from their great loss. They grieved so, poor +little lads."</p> + +<p>That softened Miss Patricia again, and she said nothing more about our +being pests. But when she passed me she drew her skirts aside as if +she could not bear to so much as brush against me, and from that hour +it has been war to the knife between us.</p> + +<p>Matches and I were given a little room up in the attic under the +eaves, but at first we were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> rarely there during the day. The boys +took us with them wherever they went. We had been there some time +before we were left alone long enough for me to do any exploring.</p> + +<p>It was almost dark when that first chance came. I prowled around the +attic awhile. Then I climbed out of the window and swung down by the +vines that covered that side of the house, to the shutters of the room +below. It happened to be Miss Patricia's room. As I perched on the top +of the shutters, leaning over and craning my neck, I could see Miss +Patricia sitting there in the dusk beside her open window. Her hands +were folded in her lap, and she was rocking gently back and forth in a +high-backed rocking-chair, with her eyes closed.</p> + +<p>I thought it would be a good chance for me to take a peep into her +room, so I ventured to swing over and drop down on the window-sill +beside her, on all fours. I did it very quietly, so quietly, in fact, +that I do not see how she could possibly have been disturbed; yet I +give you my word, Ring-tail, that woman shrieked until you could have +heard her half a mile. I never was so terrified in all my life. It +paralysed me for an instant, and then I sprang up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> by the vines to the +lightning-rod, and streaked up it faster than any lightning ever came +down. Once in my room, I shook all the rest of the evening.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/031.png" width="450" height="379" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Matches said that Miss Patricia was probably worse scared than I was, +but that's impossible. I never made a sound, and as for her—why, even +the cook came running when Miss Patricia began to shriek, and she was +in the coal-cellar at the time, and is deaf in one ear.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> + +<p>But Matches always disagreed with me in everything, and I was not +sorry when we parted company. I'd better tell you about that next. It +happened in this way. Stuart came into the room one day with Sim +Williams, one of the boys who was always swarming up the stairs to see +us. Sim was older than Stuart, and one of those restless, inquiring +boys, never satisfied with letting well enough alone. He was always +making experiments. This time he wanted to experiment on me with a +handful of tobacco,—coax me to eat it, you know, and see what effect +it would have. But Stuart objected. He was afraid it might make me +sick, and proposed trying it on Phil's monkey first. So they called +Matches, and the silly little beast was so pleased and flattered by +their attention that she stood up and ate all they gave her. She did +not like it, I could see that, but they praised her and coaxed her, +and it turned her head. Usually I received the most attention.</p> + +<p>It did not seem to hurt her any, so Sim offered me some. But I would +not take it. I folded my hands, first over my ears and then over my +eyes. Then I held them over my mouth. Stuart thought it wonderfully +smart<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> of me, and so did Sim, when he found that it was a trick that +Stuart's grandfather had taught me. The old man had an ebony +paper-weight on his library table, which he called "the three wise +monkeys of Japan." They were carved sitting back to back. The first +one had its paws folded over its eyes in token that it must never see +more than it ought to see, the second covered its ears that it might +not hear more than it ought to hear, and the third solemnly held its +paws over its mouth, in order that it might never say more than it +ought to say.</p> + +<p>Stuart thought that I had forgotten the trick. He told Sim that it was +the only one I knew. I was glad that he had never discovered that I am +a trained monkey. If he had known how many tricks I can perform life +wouldn't have been worth living. It would have been like an endless +circus, with me for the only performer. As it was, I was made to go +through that one trick of the wise monkeys of Japan until I was +heartily disgusted with it, or with anything else, in fact, that +suggested the land of the Mikado.</p> + +<p>Stuart was in a hurry to show me off to the other fellows, so he +caught me up under his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> arm, and started off to the ball-ground, where +most of them were to be found. Matches tried to follow us, but Sim +drove her back, and the last I saw of her she was under the table, +whimpering. It was a soft little complaining cry she had, almost like +the chirp of a sleepy bird, and when she made it her mouth drew up +into a pitiful little pucker.</p> + +<p>I slept in the laundry that night, for it was after dark when we got +home, and the boys were not allowed to carry a light up into the +attic. Next day, when Stuart took me back to my room, there lay +Matches, stretched out on the floor as dead as a mummy. The tobacco +had poisoned her. Phil was crying over her as if his heart would +break. He didn't know what had killed her, and the boys did not see +fit to tell. As for me, I remembered my lesson, never to say any more +than I ought to say, and discreetly folded my hands over my mouth +whenever the subject was mentioned.</p> + +<p>I have no doubt but that I could have eaten as much tobacco as Matches +did, and escaped with only a short illness, but the sickly little +mossback didn't have the constitution that we ring-tails have. She was +a poor delicate creature<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> that the least thing affected. I couldn't +help feeling sorry for her, and yet I was so glad to be rid of her +that I capered around for sheer joy. When I realised that never again +would I be kept awake by her snoring, never again would I be disturbed +by her disagreeable ways, and that at last I was even with her for +spilling me out of my berth on the sleeping-car, I swung on my +turning-pole until I was dizzy. No one knew what a jubilee I had all +alone that night in my little room under the eaves.</p> + +<p>Little did I dream of the humiliation in store for me. The next day I +found that Matches was to have a funeral after school, and that I—I, +who hated her—was to take the part of chief mourner. The boys took +off my spangled jacket and dressed me up in some clothes that belonged +to Elsie's big Paris doll. They left my own little cap on my head, but +covered it and me all over with a long crape veil that dragged on the +ground behind me and tripped me up in front when I tried to walk. It +was pinned tightly over my face, and I nearly smothered, for it was a +hot September afternoon. I sputtered and gasped under the nasty black +thing until I was almost choked. It was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> so thick I could scarcely +breathe through it, but the more I sputtered the more it pleased the +children. They said I seemed to be really crying and sobbing under my +veil, and that I was acting my part of chief mourner beautifully.</p> + +<p>All the children of the neighbourhood came to the funeral. There was a +band to lead the procession; a band of three boys, playing on a French +harp, a jew's-harp, and a drum. Johnny Grey's Newfoundland dog was +hitched to the little wagon that held Matches's coffin. Phil drove, +sitting up solemnly in his father's best high silk hat with its band +of crape. It was much too large for his head, and slipped down over +his curls until the brim rested on the tips of his ears. It was +serious business for Phil. His eyes were red and his dirty face +streaked with tears. He had grown to be very fond of Matches.</p> + +<p>Elsie and I followed on a tricycle. She had borrowed an old-fashioned +scoop bonnet and a black silk apron from one of the neighbours. I sat +beside her, feeling very hot and uncomfortable in the crape veil in +which I was pinned. The others walked behind us, two by two, in a long +procession. We went five times around<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>the circle, while Sim +Williams, on the wood-shed roof, tolled a big auction bell, which he +had borrowed for the occasion.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/037.png" width="450" height="319" alt="MATCHES'S FUNERAL." title="" /> +<span class="caption">MATCHES'S FUNERAL.</span> +</div> + +<p>When it was all over and the little mound over Matches's grave had +been covered with sod, the children were loath to stop playing +funeral. They had enjoyed it so much. Somebody said that we ought to +march down the street so that people could see how funny I looked in +my crape veil; but I could stand it no longer. When I saw that the +band was really moving toward the gate, and that Stuart was about to +lift me into the wagon that had carried Matches's coffin, I shrieked +with rage and bit and tore at my veil until I was soon free.</p> + +<p>In about a minute it was nothing but a heap of rags and tatters, and +Phil and Stuart were looking at it and then at each other with +troubled faces. "It's Aunt Patricia's!" one of them gasped. "And it is +all torn to bits! Oh, Dago, you little mischief, how <i>could</i> you? Now +we'll catch it!" As if it were my fault. I don't know what happened +when the veil was taken back. Luckily I had no share in that part of +it, although Miss Patricia seemed to add that to the long list of +grievances she had against<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> me, and her manner toward me grew even +more severe than before.</p> + +<p>The excitement of the funeral seemed to make Phil forget the loss of +Matches that day, but he cried next morning when Stuart came down with +me on his shoulder, and there was no frisky little pet for him to +fondle and feed. How he could grieve for her is more than I could +understand. I didn't miss her,—I was glad she was gone. Every day +Phil put fresh flowers on her grave. Sometimes it was only a stiff red +coxcomb or a little stemless geranium that had escaped the early +frost. Sometimes it was only a handful of bright grasses gone to seed. +The doctor's neglected garden flaunted few blooms this autumn, but the +little fellow, grieving long and sorely, did all he could to show +respect to Matches's memory.</p> + +<p>One day, nearly a month later, he went crying into his father's +office, saying that Matches was gone. Stuart and Sim Williams had dug +her up and sold her skeleton to a naturalist in the next block for +fifty cents. He had just heard of it. I never saw a child so excited. +He was sobbing so hard that he could not breathe except in great +choking gasps, and it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> was some time before his father could quiet him +enough to understand what he was talking about.</p> + +<p>Oh, but Doctor Tremont was angry! And yet it did not sound so bad when +Stuart had explained it. He hadn't thought that he was doing anything +dishonest or unkind to Phil. He only thought what an easy way it would +be to make fifty cents. He didn't see how it could make any difference +to Phil, so long as he never found it out, and Sim had sworn not to +tell. The mound would still be there, and he could go on putting +flowers on it just the same. Sim was the one who had first spoken of +it, and Sim had half the money.</p> + +<p>I was not in the room all of the time, so I cannot tell what passed +between Stuart and his father. I could hear the doctor's voice for a +long time, talking in low, deep tones, very earnestly. I know he said +something about Phil's being such a little fellow, and how the mother +who had gone away would have been grieved to know that he was so +unhappy. What he said must have hurt Stuart more than a whipping, for +when he came out his eyes were red, and he looked as solemn as an +owl.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> + +<p>He had promised his father several things. One was that he would have +nothing more to do with Sim Williams, who was always leading him into +trouble, and another was that he would beg Phil's pardon, and do +something to make up for the injury he had done him. Stuart thought +and thought a long time what that should be. I know the doctor's talk +must have gone deep, for by and by he took <i>me</i>,—<i>Dago</i>,—his +best-beloved possession, and gave me to Phil.</p> + +<p>At first the little fellow couldn't believe it. "Oh, brother!" he +cried. "Do you really mean it? Is it for keeps?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's for keeps," said Stuart, grimly. Then he put his hands in +his pockets and walked away, whistling, although there were tears in +his eyes. But Phil ran after him with me in his arms.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I couldn't take <i>all</i> of him, Stuart," he said. "You are too +good. That would be too much, when you are so fond of him. But I'd +love to own half of him. Let's go partnerships. You claim half, and +I'll claim half."</p> + +<p>Well, they decided to settle it that way, after a great deal of +talking. You can't imagine,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> Ring-tail, how queer it makes me feel to +be divided up in such a fashion. Sometimes I puzzle over it until I am +dizzy. Which of me belongs to Stuart, and which of me belongs to +Phil?</p> + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>WHAT THE MIRROR-MONKEY HEARD ON WEDNESDAY.</h3> + +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of + Contents</a></p> + +<p>Do you see any gray hairs in my fur, Ring-tail, or any new wrinkles in +my face? Life in this family is such a wear and tear on the nerves +that I feel that I am growing old fast. So much happens every day. +Something is always happening here. Really, I have had more exciting +experiences in one short forenoon, here in this house, than I used to +have in a whole month in the Zoo. It is bad for me to be in such a +state of constant fright.</p> + +<p>The day after I was divided between Phil and Stuart, the boys of the +neighbourhood had a Cuban war in our back yard. At least they started +to have one,—built a camp-fire and put up a tent and got their +ammunition ready. Each side made a great pile of soft mud-balls, and +it was agreed that as soon as a soldier was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> hit and spotted by the +moist clinging stuff he was to be counted dead. You see the sport was +not dangerous, only dirty.</p> + +<p>Stuart had his coat off, rolling mud-balls with all his might and +main. He was plastered with mud to his elbows, and his face was a +sight.</p> + +<p>Phil was busy sweeping up dead leaves for the camp-fire. Suddenly he +dropped his old broom and went trotting off toward the house. "I am +going to get something that will make it sound like a real war," he +said to me as he left. The boys did not hear him, and he came back +presently, with his little blue blouse all pouched out in front with +the things he had stuffed inside of it.</p> + +<p>I followed him into the tent and watched him unload. First there was +the old powder-horn that always hangs over the hall mantelpiece. Then +there was a big, wide-necked bottle, a large, clean handkerchief, and +a spool of thread. "You see this, Dago?" he said to me. "Now you watch +and see what happens."</p> + +<p>He tore the hem off the handkerchief, poured a lot of powder into the +middle of the square that was left, and then drew the corners together +in one hand. With the other hand he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> squeezed the powder into a ball +in the middle of the handkerchief, and wrapped the thread around and +around above it to keep the wad in place.</p> + +<p>"Now I'll put the wad of powder into the bottle," he said, "and leave +the ends of the cloth sticking out for a fuse. See?"</p> + +<p>I didn't know anything about gunpowder then, so I put my head close to +his as he squatted there in the tent, talking as he worked. "Come on, +Dago," he said, when it was ready, "I'll light this at the camp-fire +and hold the bottle straight out in the air, so it won't hurt +anything. It'll go off like a pistol—bim!—and make the boys jump out +of their boots." I thought it would be better for me to get out of the +way if a racket like that was coming, so I scuttled up to the top of +the tent-pole.</p> + +<p>Phil stooped down by the bonfire, held the rag to the coals until it +began to smoulder, and swung around to point it at the fence. There +was no sound. Evidently the bottle did not make as good a pistol as he +thought it would. "The light's gone out," he muttered, bringing the +bottle cautiously around to look at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> it. Then he blew it, either to +see if he could rekindle it, or to make sure that the last spark was +out,—I could not tell. The next instant there was a puff, a flash, +and then, jungles of my ancestors! such a noise and such screams and +such a smell of burning powder! After that I could see nothing but a +tangled mass of boys, all legs and elbows, crowding around poor little +Phil to see what had happened. If war is like that, then my voice and +vote are henceforth for peace, and peace alone. It's awful!</p> + +<p>They carried him up-stairs, and his father was sent for, and the +neighbours came running in as soon as the boys had scampered home with +the news. For awhile it seemed to me that the whole world was +topsy-turvy. Miss Patricia was so frightened she couldn't do a thing. +I really pitied her, for her hands trembled and her voice shook, and +even the little bunches of gray curls bobbed up and down against her +pale cheeks. I have had the shivers so often that I can sympathise +with any one whose nerves are unstrung from fright.</p> + +<p>The doctor turned us all out of the room, and I waited with the boys +out by the alley-gate until he came down-stairs and told us how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> badly +Phil was burned. His front hair and eyebrows and beautiful long curly +lashes were singed off, and his face was so full of powder that it was +as speckled as a turkey egg. The grains would have to be picked out +one by one,—a slow and painful proceeding. The doctor could not tell +how badly his eyes were hurt until next day, but thought he would have +to lie in a dark room for a week at least, with his eyelids covered +with cotton that had been dipped in some soothing kind of medicine.</p> + +<p>But that week went by, and many a long tiresome day besides, before +Phil could use his eyes again. They would not let me go into the room +that first day, but after Phil had gone to sleep I hid under a chair +in the upper hall, where Miss Patricia and the doctor were talking. +"Tom," said Miss Patricia, "what do you suppose made that child do +such a reckless thing? Sometimes I think that boys are like monkeys, +and are possessed by the same spirit of mischief. Neither seem +satisfied unless they are playing tricks or making some kind of a +disturbance. They are always getting into trouble."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it does seem so," answered the doctor,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> "but if we could look +down to the bottom of a boy's heart, we would find that very little of +the mischief that he gets into is planned for the purpose of making +trouble. He does things from a pure love of fun, or from some sudden +impulse, and because he never stops to think of what it may lead to. +Phil never stopped to think any more than Dago would have done, what +would be the result of setting fire to the powder. You must remember +that he is a very little fellow, Aunt Patricia. He is only eight. We +shouldn't expect him to have the reasoning powers of a man, and the +caution and judgment that come with age."</p> + +<p>Now I thought that that was a very sensible speech. It seemed to +excuse some of my own past mistakes. But Miss Patricia put on her old +war-eagle look.</p> + +<p>"Really, Tom," she said, "that sounds very well, but it is not what +was taught in my day. A wholesome use of the rod after the first act +of disobedience helps boys to stop and think before committing the +second. It is a great developer of judgment, in my opinion. If you had +punished Phil the first time he took down his grandfather's +powder-horn after you had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> forbidden him to touch it, he would never +have taken it down the second time, and so would have been spared all +this suffering to-day."</p> + +<p>"I know you are right, Aunt Patricia," said the doctor, "but I seem to +remember my own boyhood so clearly, the way I thought and felt and +looked at things, that I have a very warm sympathy for my little lads +when they go wrong."</p> + +<p>Miss Patricia rose to go down and prepare the lemon jelly that Phil +had asked for, saying, as she moved toward the stairs:</p> + +<p>"Well, I love Phil and Stuart dearly. I'm devoted to them, and willing +to do anything in my power for their comfort, but I'm free to confess +that I don't understand them. I never did understand boys." Then she +tripped over me as I nearly upset us both in my frantic efforts to get +out of her way. "Or monkeys either," she added, shaking her skirts at +me with a displeased "<i>Shoo</i>," as if I had been a silly old hen.</p> + +<p>It was very quiet about the house for a few days, and then some jolly +times began in Phil's room. As soon as the boys were allowed to visit +him I showed them some of my tricks, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> kept them in roars of +laughter. I wheeled little Elsie's doll carriage around the room, and +I sat up with the doctor's pipe in my mouth, I drilled and danced, and +performed as if I had been on a stage. It was wonderful to them, for +they had never guessed how much I knew. One day I sat down in a little +rocking-chair with a kitten in my arms, and rocked and hugged it as if +it had been a baby. It wasn't breathing when I stopped. The boys said +I hugged it too hard, but they kept on bringing me something to rock +every day, until five kittens and a rabbit had been put to sleep so +soundly that they wouldn't wake up.</p> + +<p>One day Phil was moved into Miss Patricia's room while his own was +being cleaned. Of course no boys were allowed to go in there with him +except Stuart. They had a good time, for Miss Patricia told them +stories and showed them the curious things in her cabinet and gave +them sugar-plums out of the big, blue china dragon that always stands +on top of it. But I could see that she was not enjoying their visit. +She was afraid that Stuart's rockers would bump against her handsome +old mahogany furniture, or that they would scratch it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> in some way, or +break some of her fine vases and jardinières.</p> + +<p>After awhile she was called down to the parlour to receive a guest, +and there was nothing to amuse the boys. Time dragged so heavily that +Phil begged Stuart to bring his little rubber-gun—gumbo-shooter he +called it. It was a wide rubber band fastened at each end to the tips +of a forked stick shaped like a big Y. They used buckshot to shoot +with, nipping up a shot in the middle of the band with thumb and +finger, and drawing it back as far as possible before letting it fly.</p> + +<p>There was a fire in the grate, so they were comfortably warm even when +they opened the window to take turns in shooting at the red berries on +the vine just outside. It was as much as Phil could do, lying on the +sofa, to send a buckshot through the open window without hitting the +panes above, but Stuart cut a berry neatly from the vine at each +trial.</p> + +<p>Soon he began to boast of his skill, and aimed his sling at an ancient +portrait over the mantel. It was of a dignified old gentleman in a +black stock and powdered wig. He had keen, eagle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> eyes like Miss +Patricia, which seemed to follow one all around the room.</p> + +<p>"I bet I could hit that picture square in the apple of its eye," he +bragged, "right in its eye-ball,—bim!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't try!" begged Phil. "It's our great-great-grandfather, and +Aunt Patricia thinks a lot of that picture."</p> + +<p>"'Course I wouldn't do it," answered Stuart, taking another aim, "but +I could, just as easy as nothing." Still dallying with temptation, he +pointed again at the frowning eye and drew the rubber slowly back. All +of a sudden, zip! The buckshot seemed to leap from the rubber of its +own accord, and Stuart fell back, frightened by what he had done. A +round black hole the size of the buckshot gaped in the middle of the +old-ancestor's eye-ball, as clean cut as if it had been made with a +punch. It gave it the queerest, wickedest stare you can imagine. It +was the first thing one would notice on looking about the room. Stuart +was white about the mouth.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear," sighed Phil, half crying, "if Aunt Patricia was only like +the wise monkeys of Japan, then she wouldn't notice."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But she will," said Stuart; "she always sees everything."</p> + +<p>Phil had given me an idea. As soon as I heard Miss Patricia's silk +skirts coming slowly through the hall with their soft swish, swish, I +ran and sat in the doorway with my hands over my eyes, in token that +there was something that she ought not to look at. It should have +amused her, for she knew the story of the ebony paper-weight, but +instead it seemed to arouse her suspicion that something was wrong. +She looked at the boys' miserable faces and then all around the room, +very slowly. It was so still that you could have heard a pin drop. At +last she looked up at the picture. Then she fairly stiffened with +horror. She couldn't find a word for a moment, and Stuart cried out, +"Oh, Aunt Patricia, I'm <i>so</i> sorry. It was an accident. I didn't +<i>mean</i> to do it, truly I didn't!"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/055.png" width="450" height="325" alt=""SHE FAIRLY STIFFENED WITH HORROR."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"SHE FAIRLY STIFFENED WITH HORROR."</span> +</div> + +<p>There's no use harrowing up your feelings, Ring-tail, repeating all +that was said. Miss Patricia simply couldn't believe that the shot +could have struck dead centre unless the eye had been deliberately +aimed at, and she thought something was wrong with a boy who would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +even take aim at his great-great-grandfather's eyeball.</p> + +<p>Stuart was sent from the room in disgrace to report to his father, and +the last I saw of Miss Patricia that day, she was looking up at the +portrait, and saying, with a mournful shake of her gray curls: "How +can they do such things? I must confess that I don't understand +boys!"</p> + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>THE TALE THE MIRROR-MONKEY HEARD ON THURSDAY.</h3> + +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of + Contents</a></p> + +<p>The day that Phil was able to go back to school was an unlucky one for +me. It was so dolefully quiet everywhere. After he had gone, I slipped +down-stairs on the banister, but the blinds were drawn in the parlour +and dining-room, and it was so still that the only sound to be heard +was the slow ticking of the great clock in the hall. When it gave a +loud br-r-r and began to strike, I was so startled by the sudden noise +that I nearly lost my balance and turned a somersault over the +railing.</p> + +<p>Then I saw Miss Patricia pass through the hall with her bonnet on, +going out for a morning walk, and I thought it would be a fine time +for me to explore her room. It is full of interesting things that I +had never been permitted to touch, for when the boys were allowed to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +take me into Miss Patricia's room, it was always on condition that I +should be made to play little Jack Horner and sit in some corner under +a chair or table.</p> + +<p>So as soon as the door closed behind her I hurried up-stairs to her +room. I had the best time that morning. There were all sorts of little +bottles on her wash-stand with good-smelling stuff in them. I pulled +out the corks and emptied some of the bottles into the bowl to make +that smell good, too. Then I washed my teeth with her little +silver-handled toothbrush, just as Phil does every morning, and put +the sponges to soak in the water-pitcher.</p> + +<p>After awhile I found the cut-glass vinaigrette that Miss Patricia +carries around with her. I have seen her use it a hundred times at +least, tipping back the silver lid, taking out the little glass +stopper, and holding it to her nose with the remark that she never +smelled more refreshing salts. I have wanted very much to try it +myself. So now that I had the chance I did just as she does,—tipped +back the lid, pulled out the stopper, and took a long, deep smell. +Whew! It almost upset me. I thought it must be fire and brimstone that +she had bottled up in there.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> It brought the tears to my eyes, and +took my breath for a minute so I had to sit and gasp. Then I dropped +the vinaigrette in the slop-jar and jumped down from the wash-stand.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/060.png" width="450" height="410" alt="I sat down on the pincushion." title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Her high, old-fashioned bureau tempted me next. There were rows and +rows of pins in a big blue pincushion, put in as evenly as if it had +been done by a machine. I pulled them out,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> one by one, and dropped +them down behind the bureau. It took some time to do that, but at last +the blue cushion was empty, and I sat down on it to examine the +jewel-case at my leisure. I found the prettiest things in it; an +open-faced locket, set around with pearls, with the picture of a +beautiful young girl in it; a string of bright coral beads, and a +little carnelian ring, and a gold dollar hung on a faded ribbon.</p> + +<p>I forgot to tell you that Miss Patricia's bay window is full of +flowers, and that she has a mocking-bird hanging in a cage above the +wire stand that holds her ferns and foliage plants. The mocking-bird's +name is Dick. Now Dick hadn't paid any attention to me until I opened +the jewel-case. As I did so I knocked a hairbrush off the bureau to +the floor, which must have frightened him, for he began to cry out as +if something had caught hold of him. Then he whistled, as if he were +calling a dog. You have no idea what a racket he made. I was afraid +that some of the servants might hear him and come to see what was the +matter. Then, of course, I would be turned out of the room before I +had finished examining all the pretty things. I turned around and +shook my fist at him and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> chattered at him as savagely as I knew how, +but he kept on, first making that hoarse cry and then whistling as if +calling to a dog.</p> + +<p>I determined to stop him in some way or another, so, not waiting to +put down the gold dollar or the little carnelian ring, which were +tightly clenched in one hand, I sprang down from the bureau. Running +up the wire flower-stand below the cage, I shook my fist directly +under his beak. It only made him noisier than ever, and he flew about +the cage like something crazy.</p> + +<p>"Be still, won't you? you silly thing!" I shrieked, and in my +desperation I made a grab through the bars at his tail-feathers. A +whole handful came out, and that seemed to make him wilder than +before. He beat himself against the top of the cage and screamed so +loud that I thought it would be better to leave before any one heard +him and came in.</p> + +<p>So I jumped across to the cabinet near the window, where the big blue +dragon sat. Then I remembered the sugar-plums inside and stopped for +just one taste. I lifted off the dragon's ugly head and was reaching +my hand down inside<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> for one of those delicious sweetmeats, when in +walked Miss Patricia. My! I was scared! I hadn't expected her back so +soon.</p> + +<p>I dropped the dragon's old blue head on the floor and was out of the +window like a shot. There was a cedar-tree reaching up past the +window, and I ran out on one of the limbs and hid myself among its +thick branches. I could see her but she couldn't see me. She walked +all around the room, and looked at the wash-stand and the bureau and +at Dick's tail-feathers scattered among the window-plants and then at +the blue dragon's head, smashed all to bits on the floor. Then she +picked up the locket, lying face downwards on the rug, and began +searching for the other things that had been in the jewel-case. I +suppose it was the carnelian ring and the gold dollar with the hole in +it that she missed. I opened my hand, remembering that I had had them +when I went to hush up that noisy mocking-bird. I must have dropped +them when I jumped from the window into the cedar-tree. While I was +hanging over the limb, peering down to see if I could catch a glimpse +of them on the ground below, the housemaid, Nora, came into the room +in answer to Miss Patricia's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> ring. A few minutes after, Doctor +Tremont followed.</p> + +<p>Nora and the doctor walked around and around the room, looking at +everything, as Miss Patricia had done, and hunting for the things that +were missing, but Miss Patricia sat down in a high-backed chair +against the wall, and cried.</p> + +<p>"I cannot stand it any longer," she sobbed. Her old face was +quivering, there was a bright red spot on each cheek, and her +side-curls were trembling with excitement. "I have put up with that +little beast until I can endure it no longer. Patience has ceased to +be a virtue. Either it must go, or I shall. Look at Dick! His heart is +beating itself almost out of his poor little body, he is so +frightened. And there's that china dragon, that has been a family +heirloom for generations,—all broken! And my precious little +keepsakes, that I have cherished since childhood, all scattered or +lost! Oh, Tom, you do not know how cruelly it hurts me!"</p> + +<p>I felt sorry, then. I wanted to cry out, as Stuart had done when he +shot his great-great-grandfather's portrait, "Oh, Aunt Patricia, I'm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +<i>so</i> sorry! It was an accident. I didn't mean to do it, truly I didn't +mean to!" But she couldn't understand monkey language, and man's +speech has been denied us, so I only hugged the limb closer and +watched in silence.</p> + +<p>I stayed in that tree all day. The boys came home from school, and +called and called me, but I kept as still as a mouse. It was not until +long after dark that I crawled up the lightning-rod and slipped +through the window into my room in the attic. Phil found me there the +next morning when he began his search again. He squeezed me until I +ached, he was so glad to see me. Then he and Elsie brought me my +breakfast and sat on the floor, half crying as they watched me eat, +for the order had gone forth that I must be sent away. The doctor +could forgive his boys when they did wrong, but he couldn't make any +allowance for me.</p> + +<p>"I think it's too bad that we have to give up the very nicest pet we +ever had, just because Aunt Patricia don't like him," exclaimed Phil, +mournfully. "Dago didn't do much mischief that can't be mended. +Carnelian rings are as cheap as anything. Nora said so. It would be +easy enough to get her another one as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> good as the one Dago lost, and +I'd be only too glad to give her my big silver dollar in place of the +gold one. That would be better than the one she had before, for mine +hasn't any hole in it. Dick's tail-feathers will grow out again, and +everything could be fixed as good as new except the old blue dragon, +and he was too ugly to make a fuss about, anyhow!"</p> + +<p>"He always had good sugar-plums in him, though," said little Elsie, +who had had her full share of them, and who had so many sweet memories +of the dragon that she looked upon it as a friend.</p> + +<p>"I don't care! I love Dago a thousand times more than she could +possibly love an old piece of china or a gold dollar with a hole in +it. I wouldn't take a hundred dollars for Dago, and Aunt Patricia is a +mean old thing to make papa say that we have to give him up. I wished +I dared tell her so. I should like to stand outside her door and +holler at the top of my voice:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Old Aunt Pat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You're mean as a rat!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Why, Philip Tremont!" cried Elsie, in a shocked voice. "Something +awful will happen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> to you if you talk that way. She isn't just your +aunt, she's your great-aunt, too, in the bargain, and she's an old, +old lady."</p> + +<p>"Well, I would!" insisted Phil. "I don't care what you say." Just then +a faint sound of music, far-away down the street, but steadily coming +nearer, floated up the attic stairs. The children ran to the window to +listen, hanging recklessly out over the sill.</p> + +<p>"It's a grind-organ man!" cried Elsie, "and he's got a monkey."</p> + +<p>"I wonder how Dago would act if he were to see one of his own family," +said Phil. "Come on, let's take him down and see."</p> + +<p>He grabbed me up excitedly, regardless of the fact that I had not +finished my breakfast, and was still clinging to a half-eaten banana. +Tucking me under his arm, he went clattering down the steep attic +stairs, calling Elsie to follow. Running across the upper hall, he +slid down the banister of the next flight of stairs, that being the +quickest way to reach the front door and the street. Elsie was close +behind. She slid down the banister after him, her chubby legs held +stiffly out at each side, and the buttons on her jacket making a long +zigzag<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> scratch under her, as she shot down the dark, polished rail.</p> + +<p>A crowd of children had stopped on the curbstone in front of the +house, shivering a little in the pale autumn sunshine, but laughing +and pushing each other as they gathered closer around the man with the +hand-organ. As the wheezy notes were ground out, the man unwound the +rope that was coiled around his wrist, and bade the monkey at the +other end of it step out and dance.</p> + +<p>"Come on, Dago! Come shake hands with the other monkey!" the children +cried. But I shrank back as far as possible, clinging to Phil's neck. +Not for a fortune would I have touched the miserable little animal +crouching on the organ. She might have been Matches's own sister, from +her resemblance to her. She belonged to the same species, I am sure, +and whenever they held me near her I shrieked and scolded so fiercely +that Phil finally said that I shouldn't be teased.</p> + +<p>The man who held the string was a hard master. One could plainly see +that. He had a dark, cruel face, and he jerked the rope and swore at +her in Italian whenever she stopped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> dancing, which she did every few +seconds. He had started on his rounds early, in order to attract as +many children as possible before school-time, and I doubt if the poor +little thing had had any breakfast. She was sick besides. She would +dance a few steps and then cower down and tremble, and look at him so +appealingly, that only a brute could have had the heart to strike her +as he did. When he found that all his jerking was in vain, he gave her +several hard blows with the other end of the rope. At that she +staggered up and began to dance again, but it was not long until she +was huddled down on the curbstone as before, shaking as if with a +chill.</p> + +<p>Oh, how I wished that I could be a human being for a few minutes! A +big strong man with a rope in my hands, and that fellow tied to one +end of it. Wouldn't I make him dance? Wouldn't I jerk him and scold +him and beat him, and give him a taste of how it feels to be a +helpless animal, sick and suffering, in the power of a great ugly +brute like himself?</p> + +<p>Maybe he would not have been so rough if he had known that any one +besides the children was looking on. He did not see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> the gentleman +standing at the open front door across the street, watching him with a +frown on his face. He did not see him, as I did, walk back into the +hall and turn the crank of an alarm-signal. But in less than two +minutes, it seemed to me, that same gentleman was coming across the +street with the policeman he had summoned. A few words passed between +them, and almost before the children knew what was happening, the +policeman had the organ-grinder by the arm, and was marching him off +down the street. The gentleman who had caused the arrest followed with +the poor trembling monkey.</p> + +<p>"That's the president of the society for preventin' you bein' cruel to +animals," explained one of the larger boys to the crowd of children. +"You dasn't hurt a fly when he is around. Lucky for the monk that the +man happened to stop in front of his house this mornin'. Come on, lets +see what they do with it."</p> + +<p>The children trooped off after him, and Phil and Elsie watched them +down the street until they were out of sight, pushing and tripping at +each other's heels in their eagerness to follow.</p> + +<p>Then Phil climbed up on one of the gate-posts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> with me in his arms, +and Elsie promptly scrambled up to the other.</p> + +<p>"That's what might happen to Dago any day, sister," Phil said, in a +solemn voice, as he hugged me tight. If we give him up, some old +organ-grinder may get him, and beat him and beat him, and be cruel to +him, and I'm just not going to let anybody have him. I'll hide him +somewhere so nobody can find him."</p> + +<p>"Trouble is he won't stay hid," answered Elsie, with a mournful look +in her big blue eyes. "We'll have to think of some other plan."</p> + +<p>It was a cold morning, but there they perched on the gate-posts, and +thought and thought until the school-bell began to ring.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>WHAT DAGO TOLD ON FRIDAY.</h3> + +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of + Contents</a></p> + +<p>Before the bell stopped ringing, some one called Elsie to the house to +get ready for kindergarten, and Phil ran down to the stable with me. +He tied me to an iron ring in one of the stalls by a halter. Of course +any knot that a boy of that size could tie would not keep me a +prisoner very long. By the time he was halfway to school I was free +and on my way back to the house.</p> + +<p>I stayed in the laundry nearly all day, for the sun went under a cloud +soon after breakfast, and a cold drizzling rain began to fall. It gave +me the rheumatism, and I was glad to curl up in a big market-basket on +the shelf behind the stove, and enjoy the heat of the roaring fire. +Nora was ironing, and singing as she worked. Not since I left the warm +California garden had I been as peaceful and as comfortable. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> heat +made me so drowsy that not even the thump, bump of Nora's iron on the +ironing-board, or the sound of her shrill singing could keep me awake. +I dreamed and dozed, and dozed and dreamed all day, in a blissful +state of contentment.</p> + +<p>It was nearly dark when I roused up enough to stretch myself and step +out of the basket. Nora had gone up-stairs and was setting the +supper-table. I could hear the cook beating eggs in the pantry. There +would be muffins for supper. The sound made me so hungry that I +slipped into the dining-room, and hid under the sideboard until Nora +had finished her work and gone back to the kitchen. The cook was still +mixing muffin batter in the pantry. I could hear her spoon click +against the crock as she stirred it, so that I knew she would not be +in to disturb me for some time.</p> + +<p>I never saw a table more inviting. After I had leaped up on it, I sat +and looked all around a moment, trying to decide what to take first. +Everything was so good. There wasn't much room to walk about, and when +I stepped over the jelly to reach the cheese, which seemed to tempt my +appetite more than anything, my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> long tail switched the roses out of +the bowl in the middle of the table. That confused me slightly, and in +trying not to upset anything else I stepped flat into the butter, and +dragged my little plaid flannel skirt through the applesauce. Why they +persist in dressing me in this ridiculous fashion is more than I can +understand.</p> + +<p>You may be sure that I would have starved a week rather than have +climbed on that table, if I had had the slightest foreboding of what +was to follow. But how could I know that Miss Patricia was to choose +that very moment for walking into the dining-room? She had just come +in from the street, for she had on her bonnet, and carried an umbrella +in her hand. Phil and little Elsie followed her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you little torment!" she cried, when she saw me, and, before I +could make up my mind which way to jump, she flew at me with her +umbrella, trying to strike me without breaking any of the dishes. I +dodged this way and that. Seeing no way of escape from the room, I +ran up the curtains, over and under the chairs, around and +around,—anywhere to keep out of her way. She was after me at every +step. When<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>I ran up to the top of the high, carved back of the +old-fashioned sideboard, I found myself out of her reach for one +breathless minute. She was climbing on a chair after me, when the +cook, hearing the unusual sounds, opened the pantry door and looked +in.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 314px;"> +<img src="images/075.png" width="314" height="450" alt=""'OH, YOU LITTLE TORMENT!' SHE CRIED."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"'OH, YOU LITTLE TORMENT!' SHE CRIED."</span> +</div> + +<p>It was my only chance of escape, and, regardless of where I might +land, I leaped wildly out. I escaped Miss Patricia's umbrella, it is +true, but, just my luck, I went bump into the cook's face, and then +into the crock of muffin batter which she held in her arms. She +dropped us both with a scream which brought everybody in the house +hurrying to the dining-room, and I scuttled up to the highest shelf of +the pantry, where I crouched trembling, behind some spice-boxes. I was +dripping with cold muffin batter, and more miserable and frightened +than I had ever been before in my whole life.</p> + +<p>I could hear excited voices in the dining-room. When Miss Patricia +first struck me with the umbrella, Phil had cried out: "Stop that! You +stop hitting my monkey!" Then as she chased me around the room, making +vain attempts to reach me as I scampered over chairs and up curtains, +he seemed to grow wild with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> rage. He was fairly beside himself and +bristled up like an angry little fighting-cock. "You're a mean old +thing," he shrieked, breaking over all bounds of respect, and +screaming out his words so loud that his father, passing through the +hall, heard the impudent rhyme he had made up the day before:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Old Aunt Pat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You're mean as a rat!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It was just as he yelled this that the cook opened the pantry door, +and I made my fatal plunge into the dark and the crock of muffin +batter.</p> + +<p>As I hid behind the spice-boxes I heard Doctor Tremont tell Phil, in a +very stern voice, to march up-stairs, and stay there until he came for +him. It must have been nearly an hour that I hid on that shelf, +waiting for a chance to make my escape. The batter began to harden and +cake on me until I could not move without every hair on my body +pulling painfully.</p> + +<p>Things were set to rights in the dining-room after awhile and the +family had supper. Some bread and milk were sent up to Phil. Soon +after I reached the laundry, Stuart found me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> there. He turned the +hose on me and gave me a rough scrubbing. Then he wrapped me in a +piece of a blanket and took me up-stairs to dry before the fire in his +room. Phil had gone to bed, and was lying there sobbing, with his head +under the pillows when we came in. He wouldn't talk at first, but +after awhile he told Stuart that his father had given him a hard +whipping for speaking so disrespectfully to an old lady like Miss +Patricia, and that he could not go to the table again until he had +asked her pardon. That Phil vowed he would not do so long as he lived. +He had made up his mind to run away in the morning. Nobody treated him +right, and he didn't intend to stand it any longer.</p> + +<p>"But, Phil," said Stuart, "you know yourself, that it wasn't very nice +of Dago to go walking around the table through the butter and +applesauce, and all the things to eat. I don't wonder that Aunt +Patricia was provoked, 'specially when he has done so many other +things to tease her. She didn't hurt him much for all her whacking +around. I saw nearly as much of the fight as you did. She didn't hit +him more than one lime out of ten. I was perfectly willing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> that my +half of Dago should get what it deserved."</p> + +<p>At that, Phil cried still harder. "Well, if you say that," he sobbed, +giving his pillow an angry thump, "then you don't love Dago as much as +I do. You're against him, too. Nobody cares anything for either of us, +and I'll take him and go off with him in the morning. I'm going as +soon as it is light."</p> + +<p>But when the daylight came, Phil was not in such a hurry to go. He +still refused to ask his Aunt Patricia's pardon, so his breakfast was +sent up-stairs to him, and he ate in sulky silence. He waited until he +saw his father drive away down the street, and then he went in search +of Elsie. She is always wanting to do everything that he does, so he +had no trouble in persuading her to help him carry out his plans.</p> + +<p>"Put on the oldest, raggedest clothes you can find," he said to her, +"and tie an old handkerchief over your head so't you'll look as +beggary as possible. I'll tear some more holes in the old overalls +that I played in last summer, and pull part of the brim off my straw +hat. We'll take the music-box out of the hall, and put it in my little +red wheelbarrow, and you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> and me and Dago will start off through the +streets like the grind-organ man did yesterday, I planned it all last +night while everybody in the house was sound asleep. We'll sing when +the music-box plays songs, and you and Dago can dance when it plays +waltzes. I'll give you part of the money that we get to buy you the +prettiest doll in town. I'll take the rest and go off to the place +that I'm thinking about."</p> + +<p>He wouldn't tell her where the place was, although she begged him with +tears in her eyes. "Some place where they're not cruel to little boys +and monkeys," was all he would tell her. "Where they don't ever whip +them, and where they don't mind 'em getting into mischief once in +awhile."</p> + +<p>An hour later everything was ready for the start. Except for the +daintily embroidered ruffles of her white linen underskirt, that would +show below her old gingham dress, little Elsie might have been taken +for the sorriest beggar in town. The dress was faded and outgrown. The +little shawl she had pinned over her shoulders had one corner burned +out of it, and the edges of the hole were scorched and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> jagged. A +faded silk muffler that she had used in her doll-cradle was drawn +tightly over her tousled curls, and tied under her chin.</p> + +<p>Phil's outfit might have come from the ragbag, too, it was so tattered +and patched. But he had forgotten to take off his silver cuff-buttons, +and the shoes he wore looked sadly out of place below the grimy jeans +overalls. He was obliged to wear a pair of bright tan-coloured shoes, +so new that they squeaked. They were the only ones he had, for his old +ones had been thrown away the day before. At first he was tempted to +go barefoot, but the November wind was chilly, although the sun shone, +and he dared not risk it.</p> + +<p>It was ten o'clock by the court-house dial, and the bell was on the +last stroke, when little Elsie held open the alley-gate and Phil +trundled the red wheelbarrow through. I was perched on the music-box. +Rather an uncertain seat, I found it, as it slid back and forth at +every step. I had to hold on so tight that my arms were sore for two +days afterward.</p> + +<p>"Which way shall we go?" asked little Elsie, as she fastened the gate +behind us. Phil looked up and down the alley in an uncertain way, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +then said, "When the princes in the fairy tales start out into the +wide world to make their fortunes, they blow a leather up into the air +and follow that."</p> + +<p>"Here's one," cried Elsie, running forward to pick up a bit of fluffy +white down that had blown over from a pigeon-house on the roof of a +neighbouring stable. "I'll blow, and you say the charm." She puckered +up her rosy little mouth and gave a quick puff.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Feather, feather, when we blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Point the way that we should go,"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>sang Phil. "West!" he exclaimed, as it sailed lazily across the alley +and over a high board fence. "That means that we are to go down toward +the cotton-mills. I don't know much about that part of town. Mostly +poor people live there, who look as if they hadn't much money to give +away. But we'll try it, anyhow."</p> + +<p>Picking up the barrow-handles, he trundled down the alley toward Pine +Street, with little Elsie holding fast to the tail of his tattered +jacket. We were off at last, to seek our fortunes in the wide, wide +world, and our hearts were light as we followed the feather.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>WHAT DAGO SAID TO THE MIRROR-MONKEY ON SATURDAY.</h3> + +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of + Contents</a></p> + +<p>Such a day as that was! We enjoyed it at first, for the sun shone and +a crowd of dancing children followed us everywhere we went. We were in +a strange part of town, so no one recognised us, but more than one +woman looked sharply at little Elsie's embroidered ruffles, peeping +out below the old gingham dress, and at Phil's squeaky new shoes.</p> + +<p>"Have you run away, honey, or did your mammy dress you up that way and +send you out to beg?" asked a pleasant-voiced woman, with a baby in +her arms, as she leaned over a gate to drop a penny in Elsie's cup. +Elsie gave a startled glance at Phil, not knowing what to say, and +Phil, turning very red, moved away without answering.</p> + +<p>The music-box was an old-fashioned affair<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> that wound up noisily with +a big key. It played several jerky little waltzes and four plaintive +old songs: "Ben Bolt," "The Last Rose of Summer," "Then You'll +Remember Me," and "Home, Sweet Home." The children had sung them so +often that they knew all the words, and their voices rang out lustily +at first; but, about the twentieth time the same old round of tunes +began, little Elsie drew a deep, tired breath.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/085.png" width="450" height="309" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"Oh, Phil," she said, "I <i>can't</i> sing those songs all over again. I'm +sick of them." She sat down on the curbstone, refusing to join in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> the +melody, clasping her hands around her knees, and rocking back and +forth as the shrill voice of the music-box piped on alone.</p> + +<p>"I just <i>hate</i> 'Sweet Alice Ben Bolt,'" she complained. "Isn't it most +time to go home?" It was noon now. At the sound of the factory +whistles all our followers had deserted us, and gone home to dinner. +Phil sat down on the curbstone beside Elsie, and emptying the pennies +out of the little cup she had been carrying, gravely counted them. +"There's only eleven," he announced. "Of course we can't go home yet."</p> + +<p>The music-box droned out the last notes of "You'll Remember Me," gave +a click, paused an instant as if to take breath, and then started +mournfully on its last number, "Be it ever so humble, there's no place +like home." At the first sound of the familiar notes, Elsie laid her +head down on her knees and began to weep dismally. "I wish I was back +in my home, sweet home," she cried. "I'm <i>so</i> tired and cold and +hungry. I'm nearly starved. Oh, brother, I wisht I hadn't runned away! +I don't <i>like</i> to be a beggar," she wailed.</p> + +<p>Phil began patting her on the back. "Don't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> cry, sister," he begged. +"We'll go back to that bake-shop we passed a little while ago, and get +something to eat. Don't you remember how good it smelled? Come on! +You'll feel better when you've had a lunch. I'll spend every penny +we've got, if you'll only stop crying. We can make some more this +afternoon."</p> + +<p>Elsie wiped her eyes on her shawl, let him help her to her feet, and +obediently trotted after him as we went down the narrow back street, +through which we had passed a few moments before. It was not far to +the bakery. The opening of the door made a bell ring somewhere in the +rear of the shop, and a fat, motherly old German woman came waddling +to the front. Phil bought a bag of buns and another of little cakes, +and was turning to go out again when Elsie climbed up on a chair near +the stove, refusing to move. A cold wind had begun to blow outdoors, +and her hands and wrists showed red below her short sleeves.</p> + +<p>"I'm tired," she said, with an appealing glance of her big blue eyes +at the old woman. "Mayn't we stay here and rest while we eat the +cakes?"</p> + +<p>"Ach, yes, mein liebchen!" cried the motherly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> old soul, taking +Elsie's cold little hands in hers. "Come back mit me, where is one +leedle chair like yourself."</p> + +<p>She led the way into a tiny sitting-room at the rear of the shop, +where a canary in a cage and geraniums blooming in the window made it +seem like summer. Hot, spicy smells of good things baking, floated in +from ovens somewhere out of sight.</p> + +<p>As Elsie sank down into the little chair, with a deep sigh, Phil +trundled the wheelbarrow into the room, and for the first time the old +woman caught sight of me and the music-box. You should have heard her +exclamations and questions. She laughed at Phil's answers until her +fat sides shook. Little by little she found out the whole truth about +our running away, and seemed to think it very amusing. After we had +rested awhile, Phil offered to give her a private performance. As he +started to wind the music-box, she opened a door into a stairway and +called, "Oh, Meena! Make haste, once already, and bring der baby!"</p> + +<p>In answer to her call, a young woman came hurrying down the steps, +carrying a big fat baby, who stared at us solemnly with its round<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +blue eyes, and stuck its thumb in its mouth. But as the music started, +and I began my dancing, he kicked and crowed with delight. The more he +gurgled and cooed and waved his little fat hands, the broader the +smiles spread on the women's faces. I mention this because the more he +noticed us, the more his grandmother's heart seemed to warm toward us. +When the music stopped, she went out of the room and brought us each a +glass of milk and a little mince pie, hot from the oven.</p> + +<p>After we had eaten, Elsie got down on the rug and played with the +baby, although Phil kept insisting that it was time to go. One thing +after another delayed us until it was nearly the middle of the +afternoon before we started out again on the streets. The old woman +pinned Elsie's shawl around her more comfortably, kissed her on each +cheek, and told Phil to hurry home with her, that it was getting too +cold to be wandering around, standing on street corners.</p> + +<p>She watched us out of sight. As soon as we had turned a corner, Phil +looked ruefully into Elsie's empty cup. "If I had known she was going +to give us the milk and pie, I wouldn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> have bought the buns," he +said. "We haven't made much headway, and it gets dark so soon, these +days. I'm afraid the feather fooled us about the way to go."</p> + +<p>We wandered on and on all the rest of that long afternoon, sometimes +playing before every door, and sometimes walking blocks before +stopping for a performance. Phil's new shoes tired his feet until he +could scarcely drag them, and little Elsie's lips were blue with cold. +At last when the music-box struck up "Home, Sweet Home" for what +seemed the ten hundreth time, her voice quavered through the first +line and stopped short with a sob.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Phil, I'm getting tireder and tireder! Can't you make that box +skip that song?" she begged. "If I hear it another time I just can't +stand it! I'll <i>have</i> to turn around and go back home."</p> + +<p>Phil glanced anxiously at the clouded sky. The sun was so low it was +hidden by the tall buildings, and the darkness was coming on rapidly.</p> + +<p>"Well, come along!" he said, impatiently. "I s'pose I'll have to take +you home, cry-baby, but I'm not going in myself. We haven't any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +money at all, hardly; not enough to take me even a tweety, weenty part +of the way to that place I'm going to, let alone enough to buy you +that doll. But that's the way with girls. They always spoil +everything."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/091.png" width="450" height="318" alt=""ALL WENT WELL UNTIL WE REACHED AN ALLEY CROSSING."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"ALL WENT WELL UNTIL WE REACHED AN ALLEY CROSSING."</span> +</div> + +<p>Little Elsie rubbed her sleeve across her eyes and swallowed hard. "I +wouldn't ask to go back, brother, really and truly I wouldn't, but I'm +so cold and mizzible I feel most like I'm going to be sick."</p> + +<p>Phil looked at her little bare red hands and tear-stained face, and +said, gruffly, "Well, then, get on the wheelbarrow. You can sit on the +music-box and hold Dago in your lap, and I'll wheel you a piece until +you get rested."</p> + +<p>Elsie very willingly climbed up and took me in her lap. It was hard +work for Phil. He grew red in the face, and his arms ached, but he +kept bravely on, although he was out of breath from the hard pushing. +All went well until we reached an alley crossing. Phil, whose +attention was all on the wheel of his barrow, which he was trying to +steer safely between the cobblestones, did not see a long string of +geese waddling down the alley on their way home from the commons, +where they had been feeding<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> all day. They came silently along in an +awkward, wavering line, as quietly as a procession of web-footed +ghosts, until they were almost upon us. Then the leader shot out his +wings with a hoarse cry, every goose in the procession followed his +example, and with a rush they flapped past us, half running, half +flying. It was done with such startling suddenness that it caused a +general upsetting of our party. Phil veered to one side, and over we +went in a heap, music-box, Elsie, barrow, and all, with myself on top. +There was a frightened scream from Elsie, followed by a steady +downpour of tears as Phil picked her up. She had struck her forehead +on a cobblestone, and a big blue bump was rapidly swelling above one +eye. Her nose was bleeding a little, too. Phil was so occupied in +trying to comfort her, and in wiping away the blood, that it was +several minutes before he thought of the music-box. When he picked it +up he found it was so badly broken that it would no longer play.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what will papa say!" cried Elsie. The little fellow made no +answer, but could scarcely keep from crying himself, as he lifted it +on the barrow, to start back home.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> + +<p>"When will we be there, brother?" asked Elsie, when they had trudged +along for some time. She was holding on to the tail of his jacket, +sniffling dismally. Phil stopped, for they had reached a street +corner, and looked around. It was growing dusk. Then he turned to her +with a dazed, scared fate.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Sis," he cried, "I don't know what to do. This isn't the street +that I thought it was. I'm afraid we're lost!"</p> + +<p>They had reached the edge of the town by this time. Only one more +block of pretty suburban homes stood between them and the outskirting +fields.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what we'll do," said Phil, after a moment's pause, +bravely choking back his own fears at sight of his little sister's +frightened face. "See that house over there with the firelight shining +through the windows, so bright and warm? It looks as if kind people +lived there. We'll go and ask them to show us the way home."</p> + +<p>"I wish I was home now," mourned Elsie. "I wish I was all clean and +warm, sitting at the supper-table with my good clothes on, beside my +papa. Maybe we'll never find our way<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> back, any more! Maybe he'll +never kiss me and say, 'Papa's dear little daughter,' again! He'll +think I'm dead. Maybe we'll have to go and live with beggars, and be +somebody's poor children all our life to punish us for running away; +and, oh, maybe we'll never have any 'home, sweet home' any more!"</p> + +<p>At the picture she made for herself, of the cheerful room with the +dear home faces gathered around the table, which she might never see +again, she began to sob wildly. The tears were falling so fast now +that she could hardly see, but stumbled blindly along, stumping her +tired toes at every step, and clinging fast to Phil's old jacket.</p> + +<p>They had almost reached the house with the friendly windows, when a +great iron gate just ahead of them swung open, and an elegantly +dressed old lady walked out to step into a carriage, drawn up at the +curbstone. Behind her came another old lady, tall and stately, and +with something so familiar in appearance that both the children stood +still in astonishment. She was looking about her with sharp, +eagle-like eyes. Her skirts swished softly as she walked, and the +little bunches of gray curls<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> on each side of her face bobbed gently +under her imposing black bonnet.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Patricia!" screamed little Elsie, darting forward and clasping +her arms around the astonished old lady's knees. "Oh, Aunt Patricia! +We're lost! <i>Please</i> take us home!"</p> + +<p>If a dirty little grizzly bear had suddenly sprung up in the path and +begun hugging her, Miss Patricia could not have been more amazed than +she was at the sight of the ragged child who clung to her. She pushed +back the old silk muffler from the tousled curls, and looked +wonderingly on the child's blood-stained face with the blue bump still +swelling on the forehead.</p> + +<p>"Caroline Driggs," she called to the lady who stood waiting for her at +the carriage door, "am I dreaming? I never saw my nephew's children in +such a plight before. I can scarcely believe they are his."</p> + +<p>"Oh, we are! We are!" screamed little Elsie. "I'll just <i>die</i> if you +say we are not!"</p> + +<p>Phil stood by, too shamefaced to plead for himself, yet fearful that +she might take Elsie and leave him to his fate, because he had refused +to apologise for his rude speech.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> + +<p>Miss Patricia had been spending the day with Mrs. Driggs, who was an +old friend of hers, and who was now about to take her home in her +carriage. Mrs. Driggs seemed to understand the situation at a glance. +"Come on," she said. "We'll put the children in here with us; the +monkey and the rest of the gypsy outfit can go up with the coachman. +Here, Sam, take this little beast on the seat with you, and lift up +the barrow, too."</p> + +<p>If those children were half as glad to sink down on the comfortable +cushions as I was to snuggle under the coachman's warm lap-robe, then +I am sure that Mrs. Driggs's elegant carriage never held three more +grateful hearts. As we climbed to our places I heard Mrs. Driggs say, +kindly: "So the little ones were masquerading, were they? It is a cold +day for such sport."</p> + +<p>Miss Patricia answered, in a voice that trembled with displeasure: +"Really, Caroline, I am more deeply mortified than I can say, to think +that any one bearing my name—the proud, unsullied name of +Tremont—could go parading the streets, in the garb of a beggar, +asking for alms. I cannot trust myself to speak of it calmly."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> + +<p>All the way home I felt sorry for Phil. I didn't envy him having to +sit there, facing Miss Patricia, with his conscience hurting him as it +must have done. That is the advantage of being a monkey. We have no +consciences to trouble us. I didn't envy his home-coming, either, +although I knew he would be glad enough to creep into his warm, soft +bed. His feet were badly blistered from his long tramp in his new +shoes.</p> + +<p>Stuart looked after my comfort, and I was soon curled up snugly on a +cushion before the fire. Phil and Elsie had a hot bath, and hot bread +and milk, and were put to bed at once. Elsie was coughing at nearly +every breath, and the doctor seemed troubled when he came up to rub +some soothing lotion on the poor little swelled forehead. He brought +something for Phil's blistered feet, too, but he never spoke a word +all the time he was putting it on.</p> + +<p>After it was done he stood looking at him very gravely. Then he said: +"Your little sister tells me that you took her out to dance and sing +in the streets to-day to earn money, in order that you may run away +from home. Is that so?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," answered Phil, in a very faint voice.</p> + +<p>"So you are tired of your home," continued the doctor, "and think you +could find kinder treatment among strangers who care nothing for you. +I am sorry that my little son has come to such a conclusion. But if +you are determined to leave us, there is no necessity for you to slip +off like a thief in the night. Winter is coming on, and you will need +all your warm clothes. Better take time to pack them properly, and +collect whatever of your belongings you want to keep. I am very much +afraid that this day's work is going to make your little sister ill. +No doubt you will feel worse for it yourself, and will need a good +rest before starting out. Maybe you'd better wait until Monday, before +you turn your back for ever on your home and family."</p> + +<p>The doctor waited a moment, but Phil made no answer. After waiting +another moment, still without a word from Phil, the doctor said, "Good +night, my son," and walked down-stairs into the library.</p> + +<p>Now, I know well enough that, when we started out in the morning, Phil +was fully determined to run away from home, as soon as he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> could earn +enough money to take him. I couldn't understand what had changed his +mind so completely. You can imagine my surprise when he began to sob, +"Oh, papa! papa! You didn't kiss me good night and you don't care a +bit if I run away! Oh, I don't want to go now! I don't <i>want</i> to!"</p> + +<p>It sounded so pitiful that I got up off my cushion and walked over to +the bed. All that I could do was to take his head in my arms and rub +it and pat it and rub it again. I think it comforted him a little, +although he sobbed out at first: "Oh, Dago, you're the only friend +I've got! It's awful when a little boy's mother is dead, and there +isn't anybody in the whole world to love him but a monkey!"</p> + +<p>The door was open into Elsie's room. She heard what he said, and in a +minute, she came pattering across the carpet in her little bare feet +and climbed up on the bed beside me.</p> + +<p>"Don't say that, brother," she begged, leaning over and kissing him. +"Dago isn't the only one that loves you, 'cause there's me. Don't +cry."</p> + +<p>"But, oh," wailed Phil, "papa didn't say one word about my staying! He +doesn't care if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> I run away. He never once asked me not to, and I +believe he'll be glad when I'm gone, 'cause he can't bear to see Aunt +Patricia worried, and everything I do seems to worry her. She says she +doesn't understand boys, and I s'pose it's best for me to go. But I +don't want to. <i>Aow, I don't want to!</i>"</p> + +<p>By this time he had worked himself up into such a spasm of crying that +he could not stop, for all little Elsie's begging. She wiped his eyes +on the sheet with her little dimpled hands, and kissed him a dozen +times. Then I think she must have grown frightened at his sobs, for +she slipped off the bed to the floor, "I'll tell papa that you don't +want to go," she said, trailing out of the room in her long white +nightgown. She had to hold it up in front to keep from tripping, and +her little bare feet went patter, patter, down the long stairs to the +library. Wondering what would happen next, I followed her into the +hall, and swung by my tail over the banister.</p> + +<p>Doctor Tremont was sitting in a big armchair before the fire, with his +head in his hands. He looked very much troubled over something. She +opened the door, and ran up to him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, Elsie, child, what is the matter?" he cried, catching her in his +arms. "What do you mean by running around the house in your nightgown? +Doesn't my little daughter know that it will make her cough worse, and +maybe make her very, very ill?"</p> + +<p>He started quickly up the stairs with her, to carry her back to bed. +She clasped her arms around his neck, and laid her soft pink cheek +against his. "Oh, daddy dear," I heard her say, "Phil is crying and +crying up there in the dark, and the monkey's patting his head, trying +to make him stop. He's crying because you don't love him any more. He +said you didn't kiss him good night, and you don't care if he runs +away, and he hasn't a friend in the world but me and the monkey. He +feels awful bad about having to leave home. Oh, daddy dear, <i>please</i> +tell him he can stay!"</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3>WHAT DAGO TOLD THE MIRROR-MONKEY ON SUNDAY.</h3> + +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of + Contents</a></p> + +<p>As soon as Elsie was put back to bed, Doctor Tremont came into the +room where I was still trying to comfort Phil, for I had skipped back +to him when they started up the stairs. Stirring the fire in the grate +until it blazed brightly, he turned to look at Phil. There was a long +silence; then he said, "Phil, come here, my boy. Come and sit on my +knee by the fire. I want to talk to you awhile."</p> + +<p>His voice was so kind and gentle that it seemed to me nobody could +have been afraid of him then, but Phil climbed out of bed very slowly, +as if he did not want to obey. Wrapping him in a warm, fleecy blanket, +the doctor drew him over to a big rocking-chair in front of the fire, +and sat down with him on his knee. I crawled back to my cushion on the +hearth.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> + +<p>For a little while there was nothing said. The old chair crooned a +comforting lullaby of <i>creakity-creak</i>, <i>creakity-creak</i>, as the +doctor rocked back and forth, with the boy's curly head on his +shoulder. At last he said: "You think that I am unkind, Phil, because +I want to send your pet away, and cruel because I punished you for +speaking rudely to your Aunt Patricia. Now, I am going to tell you her +story, and maybe you will understand her better. The truth is, you do +not understand your Aunt Patricia, or why many of the little things +you do should annoy her. I want you to put yourself in her place as +near as you can, and see how differently you will look at things from +her standpoint.</p> + +<p>"She was the only child in a houseful of grown people, and growing up +among prim elderly persons made her orderly and exact in everything +she did. When she was a very little girl she was sent to a strict, +old-fashioned school every morning, where she learned to work samplers +as well as to read and spell. They used to tell that, at the age of +seven, she came home one day with two prizes which she had taken. One +was for scholarship, and one was for neatness<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> in her needlework. +When she brought them home, her grandmother (that is your +great-great-grandmother, you know) praised her for the first; but her +grandfather (the one whose portrait Stuart shot) said: 'Nay, it is for +the neatness that the little lass should be most commended, for it is +ever a pleasing virtue in a woman.' Then he gave her a gold dollar, to +encourage her in always being neat and exact. She was so proud of it +that nothing could have persuaded her to spend it. She had a hole +bored in it so that she could hang it on a ribbon around her neck. For +a long, long time she wore it that way. She has often said to me that +the sight of it was a daily reminder of what her grandfather wanted +her to be, and that it helped her to form those habits of orderliness +and neatness in which her family took such pride. Long after she +stopped wearing the little coin, the sight of it used to recall the +old proverbs that she heard so often, such as '"A stitch in time saves +nine," Patricia,' or, 'Remember, my dear, "have a place for +everything, and everything in its place."' It used to remind her of +the praise they gave her, too. Her grandfather's 'Well done, my good +little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> lass,' was a reward that made her happy for hours.</p> + +<p>"Her room was always in perfect order. Even her toys were never left +scattered about the house. She has her old doll packed away now, in +lavender, in nearly as good condition as when it was given to her, +sixty years ago. You can see how anything would annoy her that would +break in on these lifelong habits of hers. She was a child that took +great pleasure in her little keepsakes, and the longer she owned them +the dearer they became. She kept that little gold coin, that her +grandfather gave her, for over half a century; and that is the dollar +that Dago lost. Do you wonder that she grieved over the loss of it?</p> + +<p>"The old blue china dragon is one of her earliest recollections. It +used to sit on a cabinet in her grandmother's room, and there were +always sugar-plums in it, as there have been ever since it was given +to her. I can remember it myself when I was a boy. One of the +pleasures of my visit to the old house was listening in the firelight +to grandfather's 'dragon tales,' as we called them. They were about +all sorts of wonderful things, and we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> called them that because, while +he told them, the old dragon was always passed around and we sat and +munched sugar-plums. That jar has been in the family so long that your +great-great-grandfather remembered it when he was a boy,—and that is +the jar that Dago broke.</p> + +<p>"There were very few children in the neighbourhood where your Aunt +Patricia lived. For a long time she had no playmates except the little +boy who lived on the adjoining place, Donald McClain. But he came over +nearly every day for four years, and they grew to love each other like +brother and sister. It was a lonesome time for the little Patricia +when the McClains moved away. Donald brought her a tiny carnelian ring +the day he came over for the last time. 'To remember me by,' he said, +and she put it on her finger and remembered him always, as the +kindest, manliest little playmate any child ever had.</p> + +<p>"She grew up after awhile to be a beautiful young girl. I will show +you her miniature sometime, with the pearls around it. The little +carnelian ring was too small then, and she had to lay it away; but she +never forgot her old playmate. When she was nineteen her mother<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> died, +and, soon after, her father lost his eyesight, and she gave up all her +time to caring for him. She sang to him, read to him, led him around +the garden, and amused him constantly. She never went anywhere without +him, never thought of her own pleasure, but stayed alone with him in +the quiet old house, year after year, until he died.</p> + +<p>"Donald came back once after he was a man, and had been through +college, and stayed all summer in his old home. He was going to +Scotland in the fall. Before he left, he asked Aunt Patricia to be his +wife and go with him. She said, 'I would, Donald, if I were not needed +so much here at home; but how could I go away and leave my poor old +blind father?'</p> + +<p>"He would not take no for an answer, but went away, saying that he +would be back again in a year, and then they would take care of the +dear old father together. But when the year was over, the ship that +was bringing him home went down at sea in a storm, and all that Aunt +Patricia had left of his was his letters, and the little carnelian +ring he had given her, when they were children, to 'remember him by.' +And that is the ring that Dago lost."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> + +<p>Phil raised his head quickly from his father's shoulder. "Oh, papa!" +he cried. "I'm so sorry! I never could have said anything mean to her +if I had known all that."</p> + +<p>His father went on. "That is why I am telling you this now, my son. +Maybe children could understand old people better, if they knew how +much they had suffered in their long lives, how much they had lost, +and how much they had given up for other people's sakes. Aunt Patricia +has been like a mother to me ever since I was left without any, when I +was Stuart's age. She sent me to college, she gave me a home with her +until I was successfully started in my profession, and has shown me a +thousand other kindnesses that I have not been able to repay. I have +been able to make up to her what she has spent in money, but a +lifetime would not be long enough to cancel my debt to her for all the +loving care she has given me. But even if she hadn't been so kind; +even if she were crabbed and cross and unreasonable, I couldn't let a +son of mine be rude to an old lady under my roof. One never knows what +troubles have whitened the hair and made the wrinkles come in the +temper as well as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> the face. Old age must be respected, no matter how +unlovely.</p> + +<p>"As for Aunt Patricia,—if you would only remember how good she was to +you after your accident, how she nursed you, and waited on you, and +read to you hour after hour,—she has been tender and loving to all of +you, especially little Elsie, and is trying to help me bring up my +children as best we can, alone. And, Phil, my boy, sometimes it is as +hard for us as it is for you, to always know what is best to do +without the little mother's help."</p> + +<p>Phil's arm stole around his father's neck. "I'll ask Aunt Patricia's +pardon in the morning, the very first thing," he said, in a low voice. +"I'll tell her that I didn't understand her, just like she didn't +understand me, and after this I'll be like the three wise monkeys of +Japan."</p> + +<p>"How is that?" asked his father, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Why, never say or hear or see more than I ought to. Keep my hands +over my eyes or ears or mouth, whenever I'm tempted to be rude. +Instead of thinking that she's fussy and particular, I'll only see the +wrinkles in her face that the trouble made, and I'll remember how good +she's been to you and all of us."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> + +<p>His father hugged him closer. "If you can always remember to do that," +he said, "your part of the world will certainly be a happy place to +live in. If you can be blind and deaf to other people's faults and +speak only pleasant things."</p> + +<p>"Papa," said Phil, in the pause that followed, hiding his face on his +father's shoulder and speaking with a tremble in his voice, "I'm +mighty sorry I did so many bad things to-day: broke the music-box, and +ran away with Elsie, and mortified the family name, begging on the +streets. That's what Aunt Patricia told Mrs. Driggs. I never want to +run away again as long as I live. Oh, if you'll only forgive me and +let me stay, I'd rather be your little boy than anybody else's in the +whole world!"</p> + +<p>The doctor gathered him closer in his arms and kissed him. "Do you +think that anything in the whole world could make me give you up, my +little Philip?" he said. "You have been a great worry to me sometimes, +but you are one of my very greatest blessings, and I love you—oh, my +child, you will never know how much!"</p> + +<p>A great, happy "bear-hug" almost choked him, as Phil's arms were +clasped about his neck.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> Then he said, "I think we understand each +other all the way around, now. Shut your eyes, little man, and I'll +rock you to sleep."</p> + +<p>Phil snuggled down against him like a little bird in a warm nest, and +there they sat in the firelight together. The old rocking-chair threw +a giant shadow on the wall as it swung slowly back and forth, back and +forth. "<i>Creakity-creak</i>," droned the rockers. "<i>Creakity-creak</i>, +<i>squeakity-squeak</i>," and to the music of their drowsy song Phil fell +fast asleep in his father's arms.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3>DAGO BIDS FAREWELL TO THE MIRROR-MONKEY.</h3> + +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of + Contents</a></p> + +<p>Hey there, Ring-tail, I've just slipped in a moment to say good-bye. +I'm off for California in the morning. It seems that I'm at the bottom +of all the trouble in this family, so I'm to be shipped by the fast +express. But you needed waste any sympathy on <i>me</i>. I am going back to +the old California garden among the vines and the pepper-trees, where +I shall miss all the winter's snow and ice that I have been dreading.</p> + +<p>The boys do not feel that they are giving me up entirely, for they +will see me once a year when they visit their grandfather. I am sorry +to leave them, but the kindest master in the world couldn't make me as +happy as the freedom of the warm, wide outdoors. Next time you hear of +me I shall be back in that land of summer, watching the water splash +over the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> marble mermaid in the fountain, and the goldfish swim by in +the sun.</p> + +<p>Think of me, sometimes, Ring-tail; not as you have known me here, +caged in a man-made house, and creeping about in everybody's way, but +think of me as the happiest, freest creature that ever swung from a +bough. Free as the birds and the bees in the old high-walled garden, +and as happy, too, as they, when the sunshine turns to other sunshine +all the Gold of Ophir roses. Good-bye! old fellow!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/115.png" width="450" height="321" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p class="heading">THE END.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<blockquote class="noteBox"> +<p class="heading">Works of Annie Fellows Johnston</p> + +<p class="heading">THE LITTLE COLONEL SERIES</p> +<pre> + The Little Colonel $ .50 + The Giant Scissors .50 + Two Little Knights of Kentucky .50 +</pre> + +<p> +(The three stories above are also published in one volume, entitled +The Little Colonel Stories, $1.50.)</p> + +<pre> + The Little Colonel's House Party 1.00 + The Little Colonel's Holidays 1.50 + The Little Colonel's Hero <i>net</i>, 1.20 + The Little Colonel at Boarding-School <i>net</i>, 1.20 +</pre> + +<p class="heading">OTHER BOOKS</p> + +<pre> + Big Brother .50 + Ole Mammy's Torment .50 + The Story of Dago .50 + Cicely <i>net</i>, .40 + Aunt 'Liza's Hero <i>net</i>, .40 + Asa Holmes 1.00 + Flip's "Islands of Providence" 1.00 + Songs Ysame 1.00 + +</pre> + +<p class="heading">L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY<br /> +200 Summer Street, Boston, Mass.</p> +</blockquote> + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Story of Dago, by Annie Fellows-Johnston + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF DAGO *** + +***** This file should be named 17429-h.htm or 17429-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/4/2/17429/ + +Produced by David Garcia, Richard J. Shiffer and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Story of Dago + +Author: Annie Fellows-Johnston + +Illustrator: Etheldred B. Barry + +Release Date: December 31, 2005 [EBook #17429] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF DAGO *** + + + + +Produced by David Garcia, Richard J. Shiffer and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Kentuckiana Digital Library.) + + + + + + + + + +THE STORY OF DAGO + +BY + +ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON + + +[Illustration: "IT WAS HER SWINGING AND JERKING ON THE ROPE THAT RANG +THE BELL."] + + +THE STORY OF DAGO + +BY + +ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON + +AUTHOR OF "THE LITTLE COLONEL," "BIG BROTHER," +"OLE MAMMY'S TORMENT," "THE GATE OF THE +GIANT SCISSORS," "TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS +OF KENTUCKY," ETC. + +Illustrated by + +ETHELDRED B. BARRY + + +BOSTON +L.C. PAGE & COMPANY +1900 + + +Copyright, 1900 + +BY L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY +(Incorporated) + + +TO + +"Gin the Monk" + +WHOSE PRANKS ARE LINKED +WITH THE BOYHOOD MEMORIES OF DR. GAVIN FULTON, +ONE OF THE BEST OF PHYSICIANS AND FRIENDS, +THIS STORY OF DAGO +IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED + + +CONTENTS + + PAGE + + I. THIS IS THE STORY THAT DAGO TOLD TO THE MIRROR-MONKEY + ON MONDAY 1 + + II. WHAT DAGO SAID TO THE MIRROR-MONKEY ON TUESDAY 16 + + III. WHAT THE MIRROR-MONKEY HEARD ON WEDNESDAY 32 + + IV. THE TALE THE MIRROR-MONKEY HEARD ON THURSDAY 46 + + V. WHAT DAGO TOLD ON FRIDAY 60 + + VI. WHAT DAGO SAID TO THE MIRROR-MONKEY ON SATURDAY 72 + + VII. WHAT DAGO TOLD THE MIRROR-MONKEY ON SUNDAY 92 + +VIII. DAGO BIDS FAREWELL TO THE MIRROR-MONKEY 102 + + +ILLVSTRATIONS + + PAGE + +"IT WAS HER SWINGING AND JERKING ON THE ROPE THAT RANG THE +BELL" _Frontispiece_ + +"THE GARDENER FISHED HER OUT OF THE FOUNTAIN" 9 + +"HER HANDS WERE FOLDED IN HER LAP" 19 + +MATCHES'S FUNERAL 25 + +"SHE FAIRLY STIFFENED WITH HORROR" 43 + +"AT LAST THE BLUE CUSHION WAS EMPTY, AND I SAT DOWN ON IT" 48 + +"'OH, YOU LITTLE TORMENT!' SHE CRIED" 63 + +"THEIR VOICES RANG OUT LUSTILY" 73 + +"ALL WENT WELL UNTIL WE REACHED AN ALLEY CROSSING" 81 + +"GOOD-BYE! OLD FELLOW!" 103 + + + + +THE STORY OF DAGO. + +CHAPTER I. + +THIS IS THE STORY THAT DAGO TOLD TO THE MIRROR-MONKEY ON MONDAY. + + +Here I am at last, Ring-tail! The boys have gone to school, thank +fortune, and little Elsie has been taken to kindergarten. Everybody in +the house thinks that I am safe up-stairs in the little prison of a +room that they made for me in the attic. I suppose they never thought +how easy it would be for me to swing out of the open window and climb +down the lightning-rod. Wouldn't Miss Patricia be surprised if she +knew that I am down here now in the parlour, talking to you, and +sitting up here among all these costly, breakable things! + +I have been wanting to get back into this room ever since that first +morning that I slipped in and found you sitting here in the +looking-glass, but the door has been shut every time that I have tried +to come in. Do you remember that morning? You were the first ring-tail +monkey that I had seen since I left the Zoo, and you looked so much +like my twin brother, who used to swing with me in the tangled vines +of my native forests, and pelt me with cocoanut-shells, and chatter to +me all day long under those hot, bright skies, that I wanted to put my +arms around you and hug you; but the looking-glass was between us. +Some day I shall break that glass, and crawl back behind there with +you. + +It is a pity that you are dumb and do not seem to be able to answer +me, for if you could talk to me about the old jungle days I would not +be so homesick. Still, it is some comfort to know that you are not +deaf, and I intend to come in here every morning after the children go +to school; that is, every morning that I find the door open. I've had +a very exciting life in the past, and I think that you'll find my +experiences interesting. + +Of course I'll not begin at the beginning, for, being a ring-tail +monkey yourself, you know what life is like in the great tropical +forests. Perhaps it would be better to skip the circus part, too, for +it was a very unhappy time that followed, after I was stolen from home +by some men who came on a big ship, and carried me away to be sold to +a travelling showman. + +It makes my back ache to this day to think of the ring-master's whip. +I was as quick to learn as any of the other monkeys who were in +training, but an animal who has done nothing all his life but climb +and play can't learn the ways of a human being all in one week. I was +taught to ride a pony and drive a team of greyhounds, and to sit at a +table and feed myself with a silver folk. One half-hour I was made to +be a gentleman, and wear a dress suit, and tip my hat to the ladies, +and the next I would be expected to do something entirely different; +be a policeman, maybe, and arrest a rowdy dog in boxing-gloves. Oh, I +couldn't begin to tell you the things I was expected to do, from +drilling like a soldier to wheeling a doll carriage and smoking a +pipe. Sometimes when I grew confused, and misunderstood the signals +and did things all wrong, the ring-master would swing his whip until +it cracked like a pistol, and shout out, in a terrible voice, "Oh, you +stupid little beast! What's the matter with you?" That always +frightened me so that it gave me the shivers, and then he would shout +at me again until I was still more confused and terrified, and +couldn't do anything to please him. + +Stupid little beast indeed! I wished sometimes that I could have had +him captive, back in the jungles of the old home forest, just to have +seen which would have been the stupid one there. How long would it +have taken him to have learned an entirely different way of living, I +wonder. How many moons before he could swing by his hands and hunt for +his food in the tree-tops? He might have learned after awhile where +the wild paw-paws hang thickest, and where the sweetest, plumpest +bananas grow; but when would he ever have mastered all the wood-lore +of the forest folk,--or gained the quickness of eye and ear and nose +that belongs to all the wise, wild creatures? Oh, how I longed to see +him at the mercy of our old enemies, the Snake-people! One of those +pythons, for instance, "who could slip along the branches as quietly +as moss grows." That would have given him a worse fit of shivers than +the ones he used to give me. + +I'll not talk about such a painful subject any longer, but you may be +sure that I was glad when something happened to the show. The owner +lost all his money, and had to sell his animals and go out of the +business. After that I had a very comfortable winter in a zoological +garden out West, near where we stranded. Then an old white-haired man +from California bought me to add to his private collection of monkeys. +He had half a dozen or so in his high-walled garden. + +It was a beautiful place, hot and sunny like my old home, and full of +palm-trees and tangled vines and brilliant flowers. The most beautiful +thing in it was a great rose-tree which he called Gold of Ophir. It +shook its petals into a splashing fountain where goldfish were always +swimming around and around, and it was hard to tell which was the +brightest, the falling rose-leaves, or the tiny goldfish flashing by +in the sun. + +There was a lady who used to lie in a hammock under the roses every +day and smile at my antics. She was young, I remember, and very +pretty, but her face was as white as the marble mermaid in the +fountain. The old gentleman and his wife always sat beside her when +she lay in the hammock. Sometimes he read aloud, sometimes they +talked, and sometimes a long silence would fall upon them, when the +splashing of the fountain and the droning of the bees would be the +only sound anywhere in the garden. + +When they talked, it was always of the same thing: the children she +had left at home,--Stuart and Phil and little Elsie. I did not listen +as closely as I might have done had I known what a difference those +children were to make in my life. I little thought that a day was +coming when they were to carry me away from the beautiful garden that +I had grown to love almost like my old home. But I heard enough to +know that they were as mischievous as the day is long, and that they +kept their poor old great-aunt Patricia in a woful state of nervous +excitement from morning till night. I gathered, besides, that their +father was a doctor, away from home much of the time. That was why +their great-aunt had them in charge. + +Their mother had come out to her father's home in California to grow +strong and well. The sun burned a pink into the blossoms of the +oleander hedges, and the wind blew life into the swaying branches of +the pepper-trees, but neither seemed to make her any better. After +awhile she could not even be carried out to her place in the hammock. +Then they sent for Doctor Tremont and the children. + +The first that I knew of their arrival, the two boys came whooping +down the paths after the gardener, shouting, "Show us the monkeys, +David! Show us the monkeys! Which one is Dago, and which one is +Matches?" + +I did not want to come down for fear that Stuart might treat me as he +had done Elsie's kitten. I had heard a letter read, which told how he +had tried to cure it of fits. He gave it a shock with his father's +electric battery, and turned the current on so strong that he killed +it. Not knowing but that he might try some trick on me, I held back +until I saw him feeding peanuts to Matches. I never could bear her. +She is the only monkey in the garden that I have never been on +friendly terms with, so I came down at once to get my share of +peanuts, and hers, too, if possible. + +I must say that I took a great fancy to both the boys; they were so +friendly and good-natured. They each had round chubby faces, and hard +little fists. There was a wide-awake look in their big, honest, gray +eyes, and their light hair curled over their heads in little tight +rings. Elsie was only five,--a restless, dimpled little bunch of +mischief, always getting into trouble, because she would try to do +everything that her brothers did. + +The gardener fished her out of the fountain twice in the week she was +there. She was reaching for the goldfish with her fat little hands, +and toppled in, head first. Phil began the week by getting a bee-sting +on his lip, and a bite on the cheek from a parrot that he was teasing. +As for Stuart, I think he had climbed every tree on the place before +the first day was over, and torn his best clothes nearly off his back. +The gardener had a sorry time of it while they stayed. He complained +that "a herd of wild buffalo turned loose to rend and destroy" would +not have done as much damage to his fruit and flowers as they. "Not as +they means to do it, I don't think," he said. "But they're so +chock-full of _go_ that they fair runs away with their selves." The +gardener's excitement did not long last, however. + +[Illustration] + +There came a day when there was no noise in the garden. The boys +wandered around all morning without playing, now and then wiping their +eyes on their jacket sleeves, and talking in low tones. Once they +threw themselves down on the grass and hid their faces, and cried and +sobbed, until their grandfather came out and led them away. The blinds +were all drawn next morning, and the gardener came and cut down nearly +all his lilies, and great armfuls of the Gold of Ophir roses to carry +into the house. + +Another quiet day went by, and then there was such a rumbling of +carriage wheels outside the garden, that I climbed up a tree and +looked over the high walls. There was a long, slow procession winding +up the white mountain road toward a far-away grove of pines. I knew +then what had happened. They were taking the children's mother to the +cemetery, and they would have to go home without her. "Poor children," +I thought, "and poor old great-aunt Patricia." + +The next evening I heard the old gentleman tell David to bring Matches +and me into the house. The next thing I knew I was dropped into a big +bandbox with holes in the lid, and somebody was buckling a +shawl-strap around it. Then I heard the old gentleman say to Doctor +Tremont, "Tom, I don't want to add to the inconveniences of your +journey, but I should like to send these monkeys along to help amuse +the boys. Maybe they'll be some comfort to them. Dago is for Stuart, +and Matches is for Phil. It would be a good idea to keep them in their +boxes to-night on the sleeping-car. They are unusually well behaved +little animals, but it would be safer to keep them shut up until the +boys are awake to look after them." + +You can imagine my feelings when I realised that I was to be sent +away. I shrieked and chattered with rage, but no one paid any +attention to me. I was obliged to settle down in my box in sulky +silence. In a little while I could feel myself being carried down the +porch steps. Then the carriage door slammed and we jolted along in the +dark for a long time. I knew when we reached the depot by the bright +light streaming through the holes in my box-lid. I was carried up the +steps into the sleeping-car, and for the next quarter of an hour it +seemed to me that my box changed position every two minutes. The +porter was getting us settled for the night He was about to poke the +box that held me under the berth where little Elsie and her nurse were +to sleep, when Stuart called him from the berth above, into which he +had just climbed. So I was tossed up as if I had been an ordinary +piece of baggage, the porter little knowing what was strapped so +carefully inside the bandbox. + +Doctor Tremont and Phil had the section just across the aisle from +ours, and Phil carried his box up the step-ladder himself, and stowed +Matches carefully away in one corner before he began to take off his +shoes. When the curtains were all drawn and the car-lights turned down +low so that every one could sleep, Stuart sat up and began unbuckling +the strap around my box. I knew enough to keep still when he took the +lid off and gently stroked me. I had no intention of being sent back +to the baggage-car, if keeping quiet would help me to escape the +conductor's eyes. + +Stuart stroked me for a moment, and then, cautiously drawing aside his +curtains, thrust his head out and looked up and down the aisle. +Everything was quiet. Then he gave the softest kind of a whistle, so +faint that it seemed little more than the echo of one; but Phil +heard, and instantly his head was poked out between his curtains. +Stuart held me up and grinned. Immediately Phil held up Matches and +grinned. After a funny pantomime by which, with many laughable +gestures, each boy made the other understand that he intended to allow +his pet freedom all night, they drew in their heads and lay down. + +Stuart wanted me to sleep on the pillow beside him, but I was still +sulky, and retired to my box at his feet. In spite of the jar and +rumble of the train I slept soundly for a long time. It must have been +somewhere about the middle of the night when I was awakened all of a +sudden by a fearful crash and the feeling that I was pitching headlong +down a frightful precipice. + +The next instant I struck the floor with a force that nearly stunned +me. When I gathered my wits together I found myself in the middle of +the aisle, bruised and sore, with the bandbox on top of me. + +We had been going with the usual terrific speed of a fast express, +down steep mountain grades, sweeping around dizzy curves, and now we +had come to a sudden stop without reason or warning. It gave the train +such a tremendous jar that windows rattled, baggage lurched from the +racks, the porter sprawled full-length on the floor as I had done, and +more than one head was bumped unmercifully against the hard woodwork +of the berths. Everybody sprang up to ask what was the matter. Babies +cried and women scolded and men swore. All I could do was to whimper +with pain and fright until Stuart came scrambling after me. My +shoulder was bruised and my head aching, and no one can imagine my +terrible fright at such a rude awakening. If I had not been in the +box, I might have saved myself when the crash came, but I was +powerless to catch at anything when it went bump over on to the floor. + +The brakeman and conductor came running in to see what was the matter. +Nobody knew why the train had stopped. It was several minutes before +they discovered the cause, but I had found out while Stuart was +climbing back to bed with me. Swinging by her hands from the bell-rope +which ran down the centre of the car, was that miserable little +monkey, Matches, making a fool of herself and everybody else. Who but +that little imp of mischief would have done such a thing as to get up +in the middle of the night and go through a lot of gymnastic +exercises on the bell-rope? It was her swinging and jerking on the +rope that rang the bell and brought the engine to that sudden stop. + +I don't know how the doctor settled it with the conductor. I know that +there was a great deal said, and Matches and I were both sent back to +the baggage-car. All the rest of the journey I had an aching head and +a bruised shoulder to keep me in mind of that hateful little Matches, +and I resolved long before we reached home that I would do something +to get even with her, before we had lived together a week. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +WHAT DAGO SAID TO THE MIRROR-MONKEY ON TUESDAY. + + +Ring-tail, what do you think of Miss Patricia? I'm afraid of her. The +night we came home she met us in the hall, looking so tall and severe +in her black gown, with those prim little bunches of gray curls on +each side of her face, that I went under a chair. Then I thought I +must have misjudged her, for there were tears in her eyes when she +kissed the children, and I heard her whisper as she turned away, "poor +little motherless lambs!" Still I have seen so many people in the +course of my travels that I rarely make a mistake in reading +character. As soon as she caught sight of me I knew that my first +thought had been right. Her thin Roman nose went up in the air, and +her sharp eyes glared at me so savagely that I could think of nothing +else but an old war eagle, with arrows in its talons. You may have +seen them on silver dollars. + +"Tom Tremont," she exclaimed, "you don't mean to say that you have +brought home a _monkey_!" I wish you could have heard the disgust in +her voice. "Of all the little pests in the world, they are certainly +the worst!" + +"Yes, Aunt Patricia," he answered. "They've been a great pleasure to +the boys." + +"_They!_" she gasped. "You don't mean to say that there are _two_!" +Then she saw Matches climbing up on Phil's shoulder, and words failed +her. + +"Yes; their grandfather gave each of the boys one of his pets. He said +that they would be company for them on the way home, and would help +divert their thoughts from their great loss. They grieved so, poor +little lads." + +That softened Miss Patricia again, and she said nothing more about our +being pests. But when she passed me she drew her skirts aside as if +she could not bear to so much as brush against me, and from that hour +it has been war to the knife between us. + +Matches and I were given a little room up in the attic under the +eaves, but at first we were rarely there during the day. The boys +took us with them wherever they went. We had been there some time +before we were left alone long enough for me to do any exploring. + +It was almost dark when that first chance came. I prowled around the +attic awhile. Then I climbed out of the window and swung down by the +vines that covered that side of the house, to the shutters of the room +below. It happened to be Miss Patricia's room. As I perched on the top +of the shutters, leaning over and craning my neck, I could see Miss +Patricia sitting there in the dusk beside her open window. Her hands +were folded in her lap, and she was rocking gently back and forth in a +high-backed rocking-chair, with her eyes closed. + +I thought it would be a good chance for me to take a peep into her +room, so I ventured to swing over and drop down on the window-sill +beside her, on all fours. I did it very quietly, so quietly, in fact, +that I do not see how she could possibly have been disturbed; yet I +give you my word, Ring-tail, that woman shrieked until you could have +heard her half a mile. I never was so terrified in all my life. It +paralysed me for an instant, and then I sprang up by the vines to the +lightning-rod, and streaked up it faster than any lightning ever came +down. Once in my room, I shook all the rest of the evening. + +[Illustration] + +Matches said that Miss Patricia was probably worse scared than I was, +but that's impossible. I never made a sound, and as for her--why, even +the cook came running when Miss Patricia began to shriek, and she was +in the coal-cellar at the time, and is deaf in one ear. + +But Matches always disagreed with me in everything, and I was not +sorry when we parted company. I'd better tell you about that next. It +happened in this way. Stuart came into the room one day with Sim +Williams, one of the boys who was always swarming up the stairs to see +us. Sim was older than Stuart, and one of those restless, inquiring +boys, never satisfied with letting well enough alone. He was always +making experiments. This time he wanted to experiment on me with a +handful of tobacco,--coax me to eat it, you know, and see what effect +it would have. But Stuart objected. He was afraid it might make me +sick, and proposed trying it on Phil's monkey first. So they called +Matches, and the silly little beast was so pleased and flattered by +their attention that she stood up and ate all they gave her. She did +not like it, I could see that, but they praised her and coaxed her, +and it turned her head. Usually I received the most attention. + +It did not seem to hurt her any, so Sim offered me some. But I would +not take it. I folded my hands, first over my ears and then over my +eyes. Then I held them over my mouth. Stuart thought it wonderfully +smart of me, and so did Sim, when he found that it was a trick that +Stuart's grandfather had taught me. The old man had an ebony +paper-weight on his library table, which he called "the three wise +monkeys of Japan." They were carved sitting back to back. The first +one had its paws folded over its eyes in token that it must never see +more than it ought to see, the second covered its ears that it might +not hear more than it ought to hear, and the third solemnly held its +paws over its mouth, in order that it might never say more than it +ought to say. + +Stuart thought that I had forgotten the trick. He told Sim that it was +the only one I knew. I was glad that he had never discovered that I am +a trained monkey. If he had known how many tricks I can perform life +wouldn't have been worth living. It would have been like an endless +circus, with me for the only performer. As it was, I was made to go +through that one trick of the wise monkeys of Japan until I was +heartily disgusted with it, or with anything else, in fact, that +suggested the land of the Mikado. + +Stuart was in a hurry to show me off to the other fellows, so he +caught me up under his arm, and started off to the ball-ground, where +most of them were to be found. Matches tried to follow us, but Sim +drove her back, and the last I saw of her she was under the table, +whimpering. It was a soft little complaining cry she had, almost like +the chirp of a sleepy bird, and when she made it her mouth drew up +into a pitiful little pucker. + +I slept in the laundry that night, for it was after dark when we got +home, and the boys were not allowed to carry a light up into the +attic. Next day, when Stuart took me back to my room, there lay +Matches, stretched out on the floor as dead as a mummy. The tobacco +had poisoned her. Phil was crying over her as if his heart would +break. He didn't know what had killed her, and the boys did not see +fit to tell. As for me, I remembered my lesson, never to say any more +than I ought to say, and discreetly folded my hands over my mouth +whenever the subject was mentioned. + +I have no doubt but that I could have eaten as much tobacco as Matches +did, and escaped with only a short illness, but the sickly little +mossback didn't have the constitution that we ring-tails have. She was +a poor delicate creature that the least thing affected. I couldn't +help feeling sorry for her, and yet I was so glad to be rid of her +that I capered around for sheer joy. When I realised that never again +would I be kept awake by her snoring, never again would I be disturbed +by her disagreeable ways, and that at last I was even with her for +spilling me out of my berth on the sleeping-car, I swung on my +turning-pole until I was dizzy. No one knew what a jubilee I had all +alone that night in my little room under the eaves. + +Little did I dream of the humiliation in store for me. The next day I +found that Matches was to have a funeral after school, and that I--I, +who hated her--was to take the part of chief mourner. The boys took +off my spangled jacket and dressed me up in some clothes that belonged +to Elsie's big Paris doll. They left my own little cap on my head, but +covered it and me all over with a long crape veil that dragged on the +ground behind me and tripped me up in front when I tried to walk. It +was pinned tightly over my face, and I nearly smothered, for it was a +hot September afternoon. I sputtered and gasped under the nasty black +thing until I was almost choked. It was so thick I could scarcely +breathe through it, but the more I sputtered the more it pleased the +children. They said I seemed to be really crying and sobbing under my +veil, and that I was acting my part of chief mourner beautifully. + +All the children of the neighbourhood came to the funeral. There was a +band to lead the procession; a band of three boys, playing on a French +harp, a jew's-harp, and a drum. Johnny Grey's Newfoundland dog was +hitched to the little wagon that held Matches's coffin. Phil drove, +sitting up solemnly in his father's best high silk hat with its band +of crape. It was much too large for his head, and slipped down over +his curls until the brim rested on the tips of his ears. It was +serious business for Phil. His eyes were red and his dirty face +streaked with tears. He had grown to be very fond of Matches. + +Elsie and I followed on a tricycle. She had borrowed an old-fashioned +scoop bonnet and a black silk apron from one of the neighbours. I sat +beside her, feeling very hot and uncomfortable in the crape veil in +which I was pinned. The others walked behind us, two by two, in a long +procession. We went five times around the circle, while Sim +Williams, on the wood-shed roof, tolled a big auction bell, which he +had borrowed for the occasion. + +[Illustration: MATCHES'S FUNERAL.] + +When it was all over and the little mound over Matches's grave had +been covered with sod, the children were loath to stop playing +funeral. They had enjoyed it so much. Somebody said that we ought to +march down the street so that people could see how funny I looked in +my crape veil; but I could stand it no longer. When I saw that the +band was really moving toward the gate, and that Stuart was about to +lift me into the wagon that had carried Matches's coffin, I shrieked +with rage and bit and tore at my veil until I was soon free. + +In about a minute it was nothing but a heap of rags and tatters, and +Phil and Stuart were looking at it and then at each other with +troubled faces. "It's Aunt Patricia's!" one of them gasped. "And it is +all torn to bits! Oh, Dago, you little mischief, how _could_ you? Now +we'll catch it!" As if it were my fault. I don't know what happened +when the veil was taken back. Luckily I had no share in that part of +it, although Miss Patricia seemed to add that to the long list of +grievances she had against me, and her manner toward me grew even +more severe than before. + +The excitement of the funeral seemed to make Phil forget the loss of +Matches that day, but he cried next morning when Stuart came down with +me on his shoulder, and there was no frisky little pet for him to +fondle and feed. How he could grieve for her is more than I could +understand. I didn't miss her,--I was glad she was gone. Every day +Phil put fresh flowers on her grave. Sometimes it was only a stiff red +coxcomb or a little stemless geranium that had escaped the early +frost. Sometimes it was only a handful of bright grasses gone to seed. +The doctor's neglected garden flaunted few blooms this autumn, but the +little fellow, grieving long and sorely, did all he could to show +respect to Matches's memory. + +One day, nearly a month later, he went crying into his father's +office, saying that Matches was gone. Stuart and Sim Williams had dug +her up and sold her skeleton to a naturalist in the next block for +fifty cents. He had just heard of it. I never saw a child so excited. +He was sobbing so hard that he could not breathe except in great +choking gasps, and it was some time before his father could quiet him +enough to understand what he was talking about. + +Oh, but Doctor Tremont was angry! And yet it did not sound so bad when +Stuart had explained it. He hadn't thought that he was doing anything +dishonest or unkind to Phil. He only thought what an easy way it would +be to make fifty cents. He didn't see how it could make any difference +to Phil, so long as he never found it out, and Sim had sworn not to +tell. The mound would still be there, and he could go on putting +flowers on it just the same. Sim was the one who had first spoken of +it, and Sim had half the money. + +I was not in the room all of the time, so I cannot tell what passed +between Stuart and his father. I could hear the doctor's voice for a +long time, talking in low, deep tones, very earnestly. I know he said +something about Phil's being such a little fellow, and how the mother +who had gone away would have been grieved to know that he was so +unhappy. What he said must have hurt Stuart more than a whipping, for +when he came out his eyes were red, and he looked as solemn as an +owl. + +He had promised his father several things. One was that he would have +nothing more to do with Sim Williams, who was always leading him into +trouble, and another was that he would beg Phil's pardon, and do +something to make up for the injury he had done him. Stuart thought +and thought a long time what that should be. I know the doctor's talk +must have gone deep, for by and by he took _me_,--_Dago_,--his +best-beloved possession, and gave me to Phil. + +At first the little fellow couldn't believe it. "Oh, brother!" he +cried. "Do you really mean it? Is it for keeps?" + +"Yes, it's for keeps," said Stuart, grimly. Then he put his hands in +his pockets and walked away, whistling, although there were tears in +his eyes. But Phil ran after him with me in his arms. + +"Oh, I couldn't take _all_ of him, Stuart," he said. "You are too +good. That would be too much, when you are so fond of him. But I'd +love to own half of him. Let's go partnerships. You claim half, and +I'll claim half." + +Well, they decided to settle it that way, after a great deal of +talking. You can't imagine, Ring-tail, how queer it makes me feel to +be divided up in such a fashion. Sometimes I puzzle over it until I am +dizzy. Which of me belongs to Stuart, and which of me belongs to +Phil? + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +WHAT THE MIRROR-MONKEY HEARD ON WEDNESDAY. + + +Do you see any gray hairs in my fur, Ring-tail, or any new wrinkles in +my face? Life in this family is such a wear and tear on the nerves +that I feel that I am growing old fast. So much happens every day. +Something is always happening here. Really, I have had more exciting +experiences in one short forenoon, here in this house, than I used to +have in a whole month in the Zoo. It is bad for me to be in such a +state of constant fright. + +The day after I was divided between Phil and Stuart, the boys of the +neighbourhood had a Cuban war in our back yard. At least they started +to have one,--built a camp-fire and put up a tent and got their +ammunition ready. Each side made a great pile of soft mud-balls, and +it was agreed that as soon as a soldier was hit and spotted by the +moist clinging stuff he was to be counted dead. You see the sport was +not dangerous, only dirty. + +Stuart had his coat off, rolling mud-balls with all his might and +main. He was plastered with mud to his elbows, and his face was a +sight. + +Phil was busy sweeping up dead leaves for the camp-fire. Suddenly he +dropped his old broom and went trotting off toward the house. "I am +going to get something that will make it sound like a real war," he +said to me as he left. The boys did not hear him, and he came back +presently, with his little blue blouse all pouched out in front with +the things he had stuffed inside of it. + +I followed him into the tent and watched him unload. First there was +the old powder-horn that always hangs over the hall mantelpiece. Then +there was a big, wide-necked bottle, a large, clean handkerchief, and +a spool of thread. "You see this, Dago?" he said to me. "Now you watch +and see what happens." + +He tore the hem off the handkerchief, poured a lot of powder into the +middle of the square that was left, and then drew the corners together +in one hand. With the other hand he squeezed the powder into a ball +in the middle of the handkerchief, and wrapped the thread around and +around above it to keep the wad in place. + +"Now I'll put the wad of powder into the bottle," he said, "and leave +the ends of the cloth sticking out for a fuse. See?" + +I didn't know anything about gunpowder then, so I put my head close to +his as he squatted there in the tent, talking as he worked. "Come on, +Dago," he said, when it was ready, "I'll light this at the camp-fire +and hold the bottle straight out in the air, so it won't hurt +anything. It'll go off like a pistol--bim!--and make the boys jump out +of their boots." I thought it would be better for me to get out of the +way if a racket like that was coming, so I scuttled up to the top of +the tent-pole. + +Phil stooped down by the bonfire, held the rag to the coals until it +began to smoulder, and swung around to point it at the fence. There +was no sound. Evidently the bottle did not make as good a pistol as he +thought it would. "The light's gone out," he muttered, bringing the +bottle cautiously around to look at it. Then he blew it, either to +see if he could rekindle it, or to make sure that the last spark was +out,--I could not tell. The next instant there was a puff, a flash, +and then, jungles of my ancestors! such a noise and such screams and +such a smell of burning powder! After that I could see nothing but a +tangled mass of boys, all legs and elbows, crowding around poor little +Phil to see what had happened. If war is like that, then my voice and +vote are henceforth for peace, and peace alone. It's awful! + +They carried him up-stairs, and his father was sent for, and the +neighbours came running in as soon as the boys had scampered home with +the news. For awhile it seemed to me that the whole world was +topsy-turvy. Miss Patricia was so frightened she couldn't do a thing. +I really pitied her, for her hands trembled and her voice shook, and +even the little bunches of gray curls bobbed up and down against her +pale cheeks. I have had the shivers so often that I can sympathise +with any one whose nerves are unstrung from fright. + +The doctor turned us all out of the room, and I waited with the boys +out by the alley-gate until he came down-stairs and told us how badly +Phil was burned. His front hair and eyebrows and beautiful long curly +lashes were singed off, and his face was so full of powder that it was +as speckled as a turkey egg. The grains would have to be picked out +one by one,--a slow and painful proceeding. The doctor could not tell +how badly his eyes were hurt until next day, but thought he would have +to lie in a dark room for a week at least, with his eyelids covered +with cotton that had been dipped in some soothing kind of medicine. + +But that week went by, and many a long tiresome day besides, before +Phil could use his eyes again. They would not let me go into the room +that first day, but after Phil had gone to sleep I hid under a chair +in the upper hall, where Miss Patricia and the doctor were talking. +"Tom," said Miss Patricia, "what do you suppose made that child do +such a reckless thing? Sometimes I think that boys are like monkeys, +and are possessed by the same spirit of mischief. Neither seem +satisfied unless they are playing tricks or making some kind of a +disturbance. They are always getting into trouble." + +"Yes, it does seem so," answered the doctor, "but if we could look +down to the bottom of a boy's heart, we would find that very little of +the mischief that he gets into is planned for the purpose of making +trouble. He does things from a pure love of fun, or from some sudden +impulse, and because he never stops to think of what it may lead to. +Phil never stopped to think any more than Dago would have done, what +would be the result of setting fire to the powder. You must remember +that he is a very little fellow, Aunt Patricia. He is only eight. We +shouldn't expect him to have the reasoning powers of a man, and the +caution and judgment that come with age." + +Now I thought that that was a very sensible speech. It seemed to +excuse some of my own past mistakes. But Miss Patricia put on her old +war-eagle look. + +"Really, Tom," she said, "that sounds very well, but it is not what +was taught in my day. A wholesome use of the rod after the first act +of disobedience helps boys to stop and think before committing the +second. It is a great developer of judgment, in my opinion. If you had +punished Phil the first time he took down his grandfather's +powder-horn after you had forbidden him to touch it, he would never +have taken it down the second time, and so would have been spared all +this suffering to-day." + +"I know you are right, Aunt Patricia," said the doctor, "but I seem to +remember my own boyhood so clearly, the way I thought and felt and +looked at things, that I have a very warm sympathy for my little lads +when they go wrong." + +Miss Patricia rose to go down and prepare the lemon jelly that Phil +had asked for, saying, as she moved toward the stairs: + +"Well, I love Phil and Stuart dearly. I'm devoted to them, and willing +to do anything in my power for their comfort, but I'm free to confess +that I don't understand them. I never did understand boys." Then she +tripped over me as I nearly upset us both in my frantic efforts to get +out of her way. "Or monkeys either," she added, shaking her skirts at +me with a displeased "_Shoo_," as if I had been a silly old hen. + +It was very quiet about the house for a few days, and then some jolly +times began in Phil's room. As soon as the boys were allowed to visit +him I showed them some of my tricks, and kept them in roars of +laughter. I wheeled little Elsie's doll carriage around the room, and +I sat up with the doctor's pipe in my mouth, I drilled and danced, and +performed as if I had been on a stage. It was wonderful to them, for +they had never guessed how much I knew. One day I sat down in a little +rocking-chair with a kitten in my arms, and rocked and hugged it as if +it had been a baby. It wasn't breathing when I stopped. The boys said +I hugged it too hard, but they kept on bringing me something to rock +every day, until five kittens and a rabbit had been put to sleep so +soundly that they wouldn't wake up. + +One day Phil was moved into Miss Patricia's room while his own was +being cleaned. Of course no boys were allowed to go in there with him +except Stuart. They had a good time, for Miss Patricia told them +stories and showed them the curious things in her cabinet and gave +them sugar-plums out of the big, blue china dragon that always stands +on top of it. But I could see that she was not enjoying their visit. +She was afraid that Stuart's rockers would bump against her handsome +old mahogany furniture, or that they would scratch it in some way, or +break some of her fine vases and jardinieres. + +After awhile she was called down to the parlour to receive a guest, +and there was nothing to amuse the boys. Time dragged so heavily that +Phil begged Stuart to bring his little rubber-gun--gumbo-shooter he +called it. It was a wide rubber band fastened at each end to the tips +of a forked stick shaped like a big Y. They used buckshot to shoot +with, nipping up a shot in the middle of the band with thumb and +finger, and drawing it back as far as possible before letting it fly. + +There was a fire in the grate, so they were comfortably warm even when +they opened the window to take turns in shooting at the red berries on +the vine just outside. It was as much as Phil could do, lying on the +sofa, to send a buckshot through the open window without hitting the +panes above, but Stuart cut a berry neatly from the vine at each +trial. + +Soon he began to boast of his skill, and aimed his sling at an ancient +portrait over the mantel. It was of a dignified old gentleman in a +black stock and powdered wig. He had keen, eagle eyes like Miss +Patricia, which seemed to follow one all around the room. + +"I bet I could hit that picture square in the apple of its eye," he +bragged, "right in its eye-ball,--bim!" + +"Oh, don't try!" begged Phil. "It's our great-great-grandfather, and +Aunt Patricia thinks a lot of that picture." + +"'Course I wouldn't do it," answered Stuart, taking another aim, "but +I could, just as easy as nothing." Still dallying with temptation, he +pointed again at the frowning eye and drew the rubber slowly back. All +of a sudden, zip! The buckshot seemed to leap from the rubber of its +own accord, and Stuart fell back, frightened by what he had done. A +round black hole the size of the buckshot gaped in the middle of the +old-ancestor's eye-ball, as clean cut as if it had been made with a +punch. It gave it the queerest, wickedest stare you can imagine. It +was the first thing one would notice on looking about the room. Stuart +was white about the mouth. + +"Oh, dear," sighed Phil, half crying, "if Aunt Patricia was only like +the wise monkeys of Japan, then she wouldn't notice." + +"But she will," said Stuart; "she always sees everything." + +Phil had given me an idea. As soon as I heard Miss Patricia's silk +skirts coming slowly through the hall with their soft swish, swish, I +ran and sat in the doorway with my hands over my eyes, in token that +there was something that she ought not to look at. It should have +amused her, for she knew the story of the ebony paper-weight, but +instead it seemed to arouse her suspicion that something was wrong. +She looked at the boys' miserable faces and then all around the room, +very slowly. It was so still that you could have heard a pin drop. At +last she looked up at the picture. Then she fairly stiffened with +horror. She couldn't find a word for a moment, and Stuart cried out, +"Oh, Aunt Patricia, I'm _so_ sorry. It was an accident. I didn't +_mean_ to do it, truly I didn't!" + +[Illustration: "SHE FAIRLY STIFFENED WITH HORROR."] + +There's no use harrowing up your feelings, Ring-tail, repeating all +that was said. Miss Patricia simply couldn't believe that the shot +could have struck dead centre unless the eye had been deliberately +aimed at, and she thought something was wrong with a boy who would +even take aim at his great-great-grandfather's eyeball. + +Stuart was sent from the room in disgrace to report to his father, and +the last I saw of Miss Patricia that day, she was looking up at the +portrait, and saying, with a mournful shake of her gray curls: "How +can they do such things? I must confess that I don't understand +boys!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE TALE THE MIRROR-MONKEY HEARD ON THURSDAY. + + +The day that Phil was able to go back to school was an unlucky one for +me. It was so dolefully quiet everywhere. After he had gone, I slipped +down-stairs on the banister, but the blinds were drawn in the parlour +and dining-room, and it was so still that the only sound to be heard +was the slow ticking of the great clock in the hall. When it gave a +loud br-r-r and began to strike, I was so startled by the sudden noise +that I nearly lost my balance and turned a somersault over the +railing. + +Then I saw Miss Patricia pass through the hall with her bonnet on, +going out for a morning walk, and I thought it would be a fine time +for me to explore her room. It is full of interesting things that I +had never been permitted to touch, for when the boys were allowed to +take me into Miss Patricia's room, it was always on condition that I +should be made to play little Jack Horner and sit in some corner under +a chair or table. + +So as soon as the door closed behind her I hurried up-stairs to her +room. I had the best time that morning. There were all sorts of little +bottles on her wash-stand with good-smelling stuff in them. I pulled +out the corks and emptied some of the bottles into the bowl to make +that smell good, too. Then I washed my teeth with her little +silver-handled toothbrush, just as Phil does every morning, and put +the sponges to soak in the water-pitcher. + +After awhile I found the cut-glass vinaigrette that Miss Patricia +carries around with her. I have seen her use it a hundred times at +least, tipping back the silver lid, taking out the little glass +stopper, and holding it to her nose with the remark that she never +smelled more refreshing salts. I have wanted very much to try it +myself. So now that I had the chance I did just as she does,--tipped +back the lid, pulled out the stopper, and took a long, deep smell. +Whew! It almost upset me. I thought it must be fire and brimstone that +she had bottled up in there. It brought the tears to my eyes, and +took my breath for a minute so I had to sit and gasp. Then I dropped +the vinaigrette in the slop-jar and jumped down from the wash-stand. + +[Illustration: I sat down on the pincushion.] + +Her high, old-fashioned bureau tempted me next. There were rows and +rows of pins in a big blue pincushion, put in as evenly as if it had +been done by a machine. I pulled them out, one by one, and dropped +them down behind the bureau. It took some time to do that, but at last +the blue cushion was empty, and I sat down on it to examine the +jewel-case at my leisure. I found the prettiest things in it; an +open-faced locket, set around with pearls, with the picture of a +beautiful young girl in it; a string of bright coral beads, and a +little carnelian ring, and a gold dollar hung on a faded ribbon. + +I forgot to tell you that Miss Patricia's bay window is full of +flowers, and that she has a mocking-bird hanging in a cage above the +wire stand that holds her ferns and foliage plants. The mocking-bird's +name is Dick. Now Dick hadn't paid any attention to me until I opened +the jewel-case. As I did so I knocked a hairbrush off the bureau to +the floor, which must have frightened him, for he began to cry out as +if something had caught hold of him. Then he whistled, as if he were +calling a dog. You have no idea what a racket he made. I was afraid +that some of the servants might hear him and come to see what was the +matter. Then, of course, I would be turned out of the room before I +had finished examining all the pretty things. I turned around and +shook my fist at him and chattered at him as savagely as I knew how, +but he kept on, first making that hoarse cry and then whistling as if +calling to a dog. + +I determined to stop him in some way or another, so, not waiting to +put down the gold dollar or the little carnelian ring, which were +tightly clenched in one hand, I sprang down from the bureau. Running +up the wire flower-stand below the cage, I shook my fist directly +under his beak. It only made him noisier than ever, and he flew about +the cage like something crazy. + +"Be still, won't you? you silly thing!" I shrieked, and in my +desperation I made a grab through the bars at his tail-feathers. A +whole handful came out, and that seemed to make him wilder than +before. He beat himself against the top of the cage and screamed so +loud that I thought it would be better to leave before any one heard +him and came in. + +So I jumped across to the cabinet near the window, where the big blue +dragon sat. Then I remembered the sugar-plums inside and stopped for +just one taste. I lifted off the dragon's ugly head and was reaching +my hand down inside for one of those delicious sweetmeats, when in +walked Miss Patricia. My! I was scared! I hadn't expected her back so +soon. + +I dropped the dragon's old blue head on the floor and was out of the +window like a shot. There was a cedar-tree reaching up past the +window, and I ran out on one of the limbs and hid myself among its +thick branches. I could see her but she couldn't see me. She walked +all around the room, and looked at the wash-stand and the bureau and +at Dick's tail-feathers scattered among the window-plants and then at +the blue dragon's head, smashed all to bits on the floor. Then she +picked up the locket, lying face downwards on the rug, and began +searching for the other things that had been in the jewel-case. I +suppose it was the carnelian ring and the gold dollar with the hole in +it that she missed. I opened my hand, remembering that I had had them +when I went to hush up that noisy mocking-bird. I must have dropped +them when I jumped from the window into the cedar-tree. While I was +hanging over the limb, peering down to see if I could catch a glimpse +of them on the ground below, the housemaid, Nora, came into the room +in answer to Miss Patricia's ring. A few minutes after, Doctor +Tremont followed. + +Nora and the doctor walked around and around the room, looking at +everything, as Miss Patricia had done, and hunting for the things that +were missing, but Miss Patricia sat down in a high-backed chair +against the wall, and cried. + +"I cannot stand it any longer," she sobbed. Her old face was +quivering, there was a bright red spot on each cheek, and her +side-curls were trembling with excitement. "I have put up with that +little beast until I can endure it no longer. Patience has ceased to +be a virtue. Either it must go, or I shall. Look at Dick! His heart is +beating itself almost out of his poor little body, he is so +frightened. And there's that china dragon, that has been a family +heirloom for generations,--all broken! And my precious little +keepsakes, that I have cherished since childhood, all scattered or +lost! Oh, Tom, you do not know how cruelly it hurts me!" + +I felt sorry, then. I wanted to cry out, as Stuart had done when he +shot his great-great-grandfather's portrait, "Oh, Aunt Patricia, I'm +_so_ sorry! It was an accident. I didn't mean to do it, truly I didn't +mean to!" But she couldn't understand monkey language, and man's +speech has been denied us, so I only hugged the limb closer and +watched in silence. + +I stayed in that tree all day. The boys came home from school, and +called and called me, but I kept as still as a mouse. It was not until +long after dark that I crawled up the lightning-rod and slipped +through the window into my room in the attic. Phil found me there the +next morning when he began his search again. He squeezed me until I +ached, he was so glad to see me. Then he and Elsie brought me my +breakfast and sat on the floor, half crying as they watched me eat, +for the order had gone forth that I must be sent away. The doctor +could forgive his boys when they did wrong, but he couldn't make any +allowance for me. + +"I think it's too bad that we have to give up the very nicest pet we +ever had, just because Aunt Patricia don't like him," exclaimed Phil, +mournfully. "Dago didn't do much mischief that can't be mended. +Carnelian rings are as cheap as anything. Nora said so. It would be +easy enough to get her another one as good as the one Dago lost, and +I'd be only too glad to give her my big silver dollar in place of the +gold one. That would be better than the one she had before, for mine +hasn't any hole in it. Dick's tail-feathers will grow out again, and +everything could be fixed as good as new except the old blue dragon, +and he was too ugly to make a fuss about, anyhow!" + +"He always had good sugar-plums in him, though," said little Elsie, +who had had her full share of them, and who had so many sweet memories +of the dragon that she looked upon it as a friend. + +"I don't care! I love Dago a thousand times more than she could +possibly love an old piece of china or a gold dollar with a hole in +it. I wouldn't take a hundred dollars for Dago, and Aunt Patricia is a +mean old thing to make papa say that we have to give him up. I wished +I dared tell her so. I should like to stand outside her door and +holler at the top of my voice: + + "Old Aunt Pat + You're mean as a rat!" + +"Why, Philip Tremont!" cried Elsie, in a shocked voice. "Something +awful will happen to you if you talk that way. She isn't just your +aunt, she's your great-aunt, too, in the bargain, and she's an old, +old lady." + +"Well, I would!" insisted Phil. "I don't care what you say." Just then +a faint sound of music, far-away down the street, but steadily coming +nearer, floated up the attic stairs. The children ran to the window to +listen, hanging recklessly out over the sill. + +"It's a grind-organ man!" cried Elsie, "and he's got a monkey." + +"I wonder how Dago would act if he were to see one of his own family," +said Phil. "Come on, let's take him down and see." + +He grabbed me up excitedly, regardless of the fact that I had not +finished my breakfast, and was still clinging to a half-eaten banana. +Tucking me under his arm, he went clattering down the steep attic +stairs, calling Elsie to follow. Running across the upper hall, he +slid down the banister of the next flight of stairs, that being the +quickest way to reach the front door and the street. Elsie was close +behind. She slid down the banister after him, her chubby legs held +stiffly out at each side, and the buttons on her jacket making a long +zigzag scratch under her, as she shot down the dark, polished rail. + +A crowd of children had stopped on the curbstone in front of the +house, shivering a little in the pale autumn sunshine, but laughing +and pushing each other as they gathered closer around the man with the +hand-organ. As the wheezy notes were ground out, the man unwound the +rope that was coiled around his wrist, and bade the monkey at the +other end of it step out and dance. + +"Come on, Dago! Come shake hands with the other monkey!" the children +cried. But I shrank back as far as possible, clinging to Phil's neck. +Not for a fortune would I have touched the miserable little animal +crouching on the organ. She might have been Matches's own sister, from +her resemblance to her. She belonged to the same species, I am sure, +and whenever they held me near her I shrieked and scolded so fiercely +that Phil finally said that I shouldn't be teased. + +The man who held the string was a hard master. One could plainly see +that. He had a dark, cruel face, and he jerked the rope and swore at +her in Italian whenever she stopped dancing, which she did every few +seconds. He had started on his rounds early, in order to attract as +many children as possible before school-time, and I doubt if the poor +little thing had had any breakfast. She was sick besides. She would +dance a few steps and then cower down and tremble, and look at him so +appealingly, that only a brute could have had the heart to strike her +as he did. When he found that all his jerking was in vain, he gave her +several hard blows with the other end of the rope. At that she +staggered up and began to dance again, but it was not long until she +was huddled down on the curbstone as before, shaking as if with a +chill. + +Oh, how I wished that I could be a human being for a few minutes! A +big strong man with a rope in my hands, and that fellow tied to one +end of it. Wouldn't I make him dance? Wouldn't I jerk him and scold +him and beat him, and give him a taste of how it feels to be a +helpless animal, sick and suffering, in the power of a great ugly +brute like himself? + +Maybe he would not have been so rough if he had known that any one +besides the children was looking on. He did not see the gentleman +standing at the open front door across the street, watching him with a +frown on his face. He did not see him, as I did, walk back into the +hall and turn the crank of an alarm-signal. But in less than two +minutes, it seemed to me, that same gentleman was coming across the +street with the policeman he had summoned. A few words passed between +them, and almost before the children knew what was happening, the +policeman had the organ-grinder by the arm, and was marching him off +down the street. The gentleman who had caused the arrest followed with +the poor trembling monkey. + +"That's the president of the society for preventin' you bein' cruel to +animals," explained one of the larger boys to the crowd of children. +"You dasn't hurt a fly when he is around. Lucky for the monk that the +man happened to stop in front of his house this mornin'. Come on, lets +see what they do with it." + +The children trooped off after him, and Phil and Elsie watched them +down the street until they were out of sight, pushing and tripping at +each other's heels in their eagerness to follow. + +Then Phil climbed up on one of the gate-posts with me in his arms, +and Elsie promptly scrambled up to the other. + +"That's what might happen to Dago any day, sister," Phil said, in a +solemn voice, as he hugged me tight. If we give him up, some old +organ-grinder may get him, and beat him and beat him, and be cruel to +him, and I'm just not going to let anybody have him. I'll hide him +somewhere so nobody can find him." + +"Trouble is he won't stay hid," answered Elsie, with a mournful look +in her big blue eyes. "We'll have to think of some other plan." + +It was a cold morning, but there they perched on the gate-posts, and +thought and thought until the school-bell began to ring. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +WHAT DAGO TOLD ON FRIDAY. + + +Before the bell stopped ringing, some one called Elsie to the house to +get ready for kindergarten, and Phil ran down to the stable with me. +He tied me to an iron ring in one of the stalls by a halter. Of course +any knot that a boy of that size could tie would not keep me a +prisoner very long. By the time he was halfway to school I was free +and on my way back to the house. + +I stayed in the laundry nearly all day, for the sun went under a cloud +soon after breakfast, and a cold drizzling rain began to fall. It gave +me the rheumatism, and I was glad to curl up in a big market-basket on +the shelf behind the stove, and enjoy the heat of the roaring fire. +Nora was ironing, and singing as she worked. Not since I left the warm +California garden had I been as peaceful and as comfortable. The heat +made me so drowsy that not even the thump, bump of Nora's iron on the +ironing-board, or the sound of her shrill singing could keep me awake. +I dreamed and dozed, and dozed and dreamed all day, in a blissful +state of contentment. + +It was nearly dark when I roused up enough to stretch myself and step +out of the basket. Nora had gone up-stairs and was setting the +supper-table. I could hear the cook beating eggs in the pantry. There +would be muffins for supper. The sound made me so hungry that I +slipped into the dining-room, and hid under the sideboard until Nora +had finished her work and gone back to the kitchen. The cook was still +mixing muffin batter in the pantry. I could hear her spoon click +against the crock as she stirred it, so that I knew she would not be +in to disturb me for some time. + +I never saw a table more inviting. After I had leaped up on it, I sat +and looked all around a moment, trying to decide what to take first. +Everything was so good. There wasn't much room to walk about, and when +I stepped over the jelly to reach the cheese, which seemed to tempt my +appetite more than anything, my long tail switched the roses out of +the bowl in the middle of the table. That confused me slightly, and in +trying not to upset anything else I stepped flat into the butter, and +dragged my little plaid flannel skirt through the applesauce. Why they +persist in dressing me in this ridiculous fashion is more than I can +understand. + +You may be sure that I would have starved a week rather than have +climbed on that table, if I had had the slightest foreboding of what +was to follow. But how could I know that Miss Patricia was to choose +that very moment for walking into the dining-room? She had just come +in from the street, for she had on her bonnet, and carried an umbrella +in her hand. Phil and little Elsie followed her. + +"Oh, you little torment!" she cried, when she saw me, and, before I +could make up my mind which way to jump, she flew at me with her +umbrella, trying to strike me without breaking any of the dishes. I +dodged this way and that. Seeing no way of escape from the room, +I ran up the curtains, over and under the chairs, around and +around,--anywhere to keep out of her way. She was after me at every +step. When I ran up to the top of the high, carved back of the +old-fashioned sideboard, I found myself out of her reach for one +breathless minute. She was climbing on a chair after me, when the +cook, hearing the unusual sounds, opened the pantry door and looked +in. + +[Illustration: "'OH, YOU LITTLE TORMENT!' SHE CRIED."] + +It was my only chance of escape, and, regardless of where I might +land, I leaped wildly out. I escaped Miss Patricia's umbrella, it is +true, but, just my luck, I went bump into the cook's face, and then +into the crock of muffin batter which she held in her arms. She +dropped us both with a scream which brought everybody in the house +hurrying to the dining-room, and I scuttled up to the highest shelf of +the pantry, where I crouched trembling, behind some spice-boxes. I was +dripping with cold muffin batter, and more miserable and frightened +than I had ever been before in my whole life. + +I could hear excited voices in the dining-room. When Miss Patricia +first struck me with the umbrella, Phil had cried out: "Stop that! You +stop hitting my monkey!" Then as she chased me around the room, making +vain attempts to reach me as I scampered over chairs and up curtains, +he seemed to grow wild with rage. He was fairly beside himself and +bristled up like an angry little fighting-cock. "You're a mean old +thing," he shrieked, breaking over all bounds of respect, and +screaming out his words so loud that his father, passing through the +hall, heard the impudent rhyme he had made up the day before: + + "Old Aunt Pat, + You're mean as a rat!" + +It was just as he yelled this that the cook opened the pantry door, +and I made my fatal plunge into the dark and the crock of muffin +batter. + +As I hid behind the spice-boxes I heard Doctor Tremont tell Phil, in a +very stern voice, to march up-stairs, and stay there until he came for +him. It must have been nearly an hour that I hid on that shelf, +waiting for a chance to make my escape. The batter began to harden and +cake on me until I could not move without every hair on my body +pulling painfully. + +Things were set to rights in the dining-room after awhile and the +family had supper. Some bread and milk were sent up to Phil. Soon +after I reached the laundry, Stuart found me there. He turned the +hose on me and gave me a rough scrubbing. Then he wrapped me in a +piece of a blanket and took me up-stairs to dry before the fire in his +room. Phil had gone to bed, and was lying there sobbing, with his head +under the pillows when we came in. He wouldn't talk at first, but +after awhile he told Stuart that his father had given him a hard +whipping for speaking so disrespectfully to an old lady like Miss +Patricia, and that he could not go to the table again until he had +asked her pardon. That Phil vowed he would not do so long as he lived. +He had made up his mind to run away in the morning. Nobody treated him +right, and he didn't intend to stand it any longer. + +"But, Phil," said Stuart, "you know yourself, that it wasn't very nice +of Dago to go walking around the table through the butter and +applesauce, and all the things to eat. I don't wonder that Aunt +Patricia was provoked, 'specially when he has done so many other +things to tease her. She didn't hurt him much for all her whacking +around. I saw nearly as much of the fight as you did. She didn't hit +him more than one lime out of ten. I was perfectly willing that my +half of Dago should get what it deserved." + +At that, Phil cried still harder. "Well, if you say that," he sobbed, +giving his pillow an angry thump, "then you don't love Dago as much as +I do. You're against him, too. Nobody cares anything for either of us, +and I'll take him and go off with him in the morning. I'm going as +soon as it is light." + +But when the daylight came, Phil was not in such a hurry to go. He +still refused to ask his Aunt Patricia's pardon, so his breakfast was +sent up-stairs to him, and he ate in sulky silence. He waited until he +saw his father drive away down the street, and then he went in search +of Elsie. She is always wanting to do everything that he does, so he +had no trouble in persuading her to help him carry out his plans. + +"Put on the oldest, raggedest clothes you can find," he said to her, +"and tie an old handkerchief over your head so't you'll look as +beggary as possible. I'll tear some more holes in the old overalls +that I played in last summer, and pull part of the brim off my straw +hat. We'll take the music-box out of the hall, and put it in my little +red wheelbarrow, and you and me and Dago will start off through the +streets like the grind-organ man did yesterday, I planned it all last +night while everybody in the house was sound asleep. We'll sing when +the music-box plays songs, and you and Dago can dance when it plays +waltzes. I'll give you part of the money that we get to buy you the +prettiest doll in town. I'll take the rest and go off to the place +that I'm thinking about." + +He wouldn't tell her where the place was, although she begged him with +tears in her eyes. "Some place where they're not cruel to little boys +and monkeys," was all he would tell her. "Where they don't ever whip +them, and where they don't mind 'em getting into mischief once in +awhile." + +An hour later everything was ready for the start. Except for the +daintily embroidered ruffles of her white linen underskirt, that would +show below her old gingham dress, little Elsie might have been taken +for the sorriest beggar in town. The dress was faded and outgrown. The +little shawl she had pinned over her shoulders had one corner burned +out of it, and the edges of the hole were scorched and jagged. A +faded silk muffler that she had used in her doll-cradle was drawn +tightly over her tousled curls, and tied under her chin. + +Phil's outfit might have come from the ragbag, too, it was so tattered +and patched. But he had forgotten to take off his silver cuff-buttons, +and the shoes he wore looked sadly out of place below the grimy jeans +overalls. He was obliged to wear a pair of bright tan-coloured shoes, +so new that they squeaked. They were the only ones he had, for his old +ones had been thrown away the day before. At first he was tempted to +go barefoot, but the November wind was chilly, although the sun shone, +and he dared not risk it. + +It was ten o'clock by the court-house dial, and the bell was on the +last stroke, when little Elsie held open the alley-gate and Phil +trundled the red wheelbarrow through. I was perched on the music-box. +Rather an uncertain seat, I found it, as it slid back and forth at +every step. I had to hold on so tight that my arms were sore for two +days afterward. + +"Which way shall we go?" asked little Elsie, as she fastened the gate +behind us. Phil looked up and down the alley in an uncertain way, and +then said, "When the princes in the fairy tales start out into the +wide world to make their fortunes, they blow a leather up into the air +and follow that." + +"Here's one," cried Elsie, running forward to pick up a bit of fluffy +white down that had blown over from a pigeon-house on the roof of a +neighbouring stable. "I'll blow, and you say the charm." She puckered +up her rosy little mouth and gave a quick puff. + + "Feather, feather, when we blow, + Point the way that we should go," + +sang Phil. "West!" he exclaimed, as it sailed lazily across the alley +and over a high board fence. "That means that we are to go down toward +the cotton-mills. I don't know much about that part of town. Mostly +poor people live there, who look as if they hadn't much money to give +away. But we'll try it, anyhow." + +Picking up the barrow-handles, he trundled down the alley toward Pine +Street, with little Elsie holding fast to the tail of his tattered +jacket. We were off at last, to seek our fortunes in the wide, wide +world, and our hearts were light as we followed the feather. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +WHAT DAGO SAID TO THE MIRROR-MONKEY ON SATURDAY. + + +Such a day as that was! We enjoyed it at first, for the sun shone and +a crowd of dancing children followed us everywhere we went. We were in +a strange part of town, so no one recognised us, but more than one +woman looked sharply at little Elsie's embroidered ruffles, peeping +out below the old gingham dress, and at Phil's squeaky new shoes. + +"Have you run away, honey, or did your mammy dress you up that way and +send you out to beg?" asked a pleasant-voiced woman, with a baby in +her arms, as she leaned over a gate to drop a penny in Elsie's cup. +Elsie gave a startled glance at Phil, not knowing what to say, and +Phil, turning very red, moved away without answering. + +The music-box was an old-fashioned affair that wound up noisily with +a big key. It played several jerky little waltzes and four plaintive +old songs: "Ben Bolt," "The Last Rose of Summer," "Then You'll +Remember Me," and "Home, Sweet Home." The children had sung them so +often that they knew all the words, and their voices rang out lustily +at first; but, about the twentieth time the same old round of tunes +began, little Elsie drew a deep, tired breath. + +[Illustration] + +"Oh, Phil," she said, "I _can't_ sing those songs all over again. I'm +sick of them." She sat down on the curbstone, refusing to join in the +melody, clasping her hands around her knees, and rocking back and +forth as the shrill voice of the music-box piped on alone. + +"I just _hate_ 'Sweet Alice Ben Bolt,'" she complained. "Isn't it most +time to go home?" It was noon now. At the sound of the factory +whistles all our followers had deserted us, and gone home to dinner. +Phil sat down on the curbstone beside Elsie, and emptying the pennies +out of the little cup she had been carrying, gravely counted them. +"There's only eleven," he announced. "Of course we can't go home yet." + +The music-box droned out the last notes of "You'll Remember Me," gave +a click, paused an instant as if to take breath, and then started +mournfully on its last number, "Be it ever so humble, there's no place +like home." At the first sound of the familiar notes, Elsie laid her +head down on her knees and began to weep dismally. "I wish I was back +in my home, sweet home," she cried. "I'm _so_ tired and cold and +hungry. I'm nearly starved. Oh, brother, I wisht I hadn't runned away! +I don't _like_ to be a beggar," she wailed. + +Phil began patting her on the back. "Don't cry, sister," he begged. +"We'll go back to that bake-shop we passed a little while ago, and get +something to eat. Don't you remember how good it smelled? Come on! +You'll feel better when you've had a lunch. I'll spend every penny +we've got, if you'll only stop crying. We can make some more this +afternoon." + +Elsie wiped her eyes on her shawl, let him help her to her feet, and +obediently trotted after him as we went down the narrow back street, +through which we had passed a few moments before. It was not far to +the bakery. The opening of the door made a bell ring somewhere in the +rear of the shop, and a fat, motherly old German woman came waddling +to the front. Phil bought a bag of buns and another of little cakes, +and was turning to go out again when Elsie climbed up on a chair near +the stove, refusing to move. A cold wind had begun to blow outdoors, +and her hands and wrists showed red below her short sleeves. + +"I'm tired," she said, with an appealing glance of her big blue eyes +at the old woman. "Mayn't we stay here and rest while we eat the +cakes?" + +"Ach, yes, mein liebchen!" cried the motherly old soul, taking +Elsie's cold little hands in hers. "Come back mit me, where is one +leedle chair like yourself." + +She led the way into a tiny sitting-room at the rear of the shop, +where a canary in a cage and geraniums blooming in the window made it +seem like summer. Hot, spicy smells of good things baking, floated in +from ovens somewhere out of sight. + +As Elsie sank down into the little chair, with a deep sigh, Phil +trundled the wheelbarrow into the room, and for the first time the old +woman caught sight of me and the music-box. You should have heard her +exclamations and questions. She laughed at Phil's answers until her +fat sides shook. Little by little she found out the whole truth about +our running away, and seemed to think it very amusing. After we had +rested awhile, Phil offered to give her a private performance. As he +started to wind the music-box, she opened a door into a stairway and +called, "Oh, Meena! Make haste, once already, and bring der baby!" + +In answer to her call, a young woman came hurrying down the steps, +carrying a big fat baby, who stared at us solemnly with its round +blue eyes, and stuck its thumb in its mouth. But as the music started, +and I began my dancing, he kicked and crowed with delight. The more he +gurgled and cooed and waved his little fat hands, the broader the +smiles spread on the women's faces. I mention this because the more he +noticed us, the more his grandmother's heart seemed to warm toward us. +When the music stopped, she went out of the room and brought us each a +glass of milk and a little mince pie, hot from the oven. + +After we had eaten, Elsie got down on the rug and played with the +baby, although Phil kept insisting that it was time to go. One thing +after another delayed us until it was nearly the middle of the +afternoon before we started out again on the streets. The old woman +pinned Elsie's shawl around her more comfortably, kissed her on each +cheek, and told Phil to hurry home with her, that it was getting too +cold to be wandering around, standing on street corners. + +She watched us out of sight. As soon as we had turned a corner, Phil +looked ruefully into Elsie's empty cup. "If I had known she was going +to give us the milk and pie, I wouldn't have bought the buns," he +said. "We haven't made much headway, and it gets dark so soon, these +days. I'm afraid the feather fooled us about the way to go." + +We wandered on and on all the rest of that long afternoon, sometimes +playing before every door, and sometimes walking blocks before +stopping for a performance. Phil's new shoes tired his feet until he +could scarcely drag them, and little Elsie's lips were blue with cold. +At last when the music-box struck up "Home, Sweet Home" for what +seemed the ten hundreth time, her voice quavered through the first +line and stopped short with a sob. + +"Oh, Phil, I'm getting tireder and tireder! Can't you make that box +skip that song?" she begged. "If I hear it another time I just can't +stand it! I'll _have_ to turn around and go back home." + +Phil glanced anxiously at the clouded sky. The sun was so low it was +hidden by the tall buildings, and the darkness was coming on rapidly. + +"Well, come along!" he said, impatiently. "I s'pose I'll have to take +you home, cry-baby, but I'm not going in myself. We haven't any +money at all, hardly; not enough to take me even a tweety, weenty part +of the way to that place I'm going to, let alone enough to buy you +that doll. But that's the way with girls. They always spoil +everything." + +[Illustration: "ALL WENT WELL UNTIL WE REACHED AN ALLEY CROSSING."] + +Little Elsie rubbed her sleeve across her eyes and swallowed hard. "I +wouldn't ask to go back, brother, really and truly I wouldn't, but I'm +so cold and mizzible I feel most like I'm going to be sick." + +Phil looked at her little bare red hands and tear-stained face, and +said, gruffly, "Well, then, get on the wheelbarrow. You can sit on the +music-box and hold Dago in your lap, and I'll wheel you a piece until +you get rested." + +Elsie very willingly climbed up and took me in her lap. It was hard +work for Phil. He grew red in the face, and his arms ached, but he +kept bravely on, although he was out of breath from the hard pushing. +All went well until we reached an alley crossing. Phil, whose +attention was all on the wheel of his barrow, which he was trying to +steer safely between the cobblestones, did not see a long string of +geese waddling down the alley on their way home from the commons, +where they had been feeding all day. They came silently along in an +awkward, wavering line, as quietly as a procession of web-footed +ghosts, until they were almost upon us. Then the leader shot out his +wings with a hoarse cry, every goose in the procession followed his +example, and with a rush they flapped past us, half running, half +flying. It was done with such startling suddenness that it caused a +general upsetting of our party. Phil veered to one side, and over we +went in a heap, music-box, Elsie, barrow, and all, with myself on top. +There was a frightened scream from Elsie, followed by a steady +downpour of tears as Phil picked her up. She had struck her forehead +on a cobblestone, and a big blue bump was rapidly swelling above one +eye. Her nose was bleeding a little, too. Phil was so occupied in +trying to comfort her, and in wiping away the blood, that it was +several minutes before he thought of the music-box. When he picked it +up he found it was so badly broken that it would no longer play. + +"Oh, what will papa say!" cried Elsie. The little fellow made no +answer, but could scarcely keep from crying himself, as he lifted it +on the barrow, to start back home. + +"When will we be there, brother?" asked Elsie, when they had trudged +along for some time. She was holding on to the tail of his jacket, +sniffling dismally. Phil stopped, for they had reached a street +corner, and looked around. It was growing dusk. Then he turned to her +with a dazed, scared fate. + +"Oh, Sis," he cried, "I don't know what to do. This isn't the street +that I thought it was. I'm afraid we're lost!" + +They had reached the edge of the town by this time. Only one more +block of pretty suburban homes stood between them and the outskirting +fields. + +"I'll tell you what we'll do," said Phil, after a moment's pause, +bravely choking back his own fears at sight of his little sister's +frightened face. "See that house over there with the firelight shining +through the windows, so bright and warm? It looks as if kind people +lived there. We'll go and ask them to show us the way home." + +"I wish I was home now," mourned Elsie. "I wish I was all clean and +warm, sitting at the supper-table with my good clothes on, beside my +papa. Maybe we'll never find our way back, any more! Maybe he'll +never kiss me and say, 'Papa's dear little daughter,' again! He'll +think I'm dead. Maybe we'll have to go and live with beggars, and be +somebody's poor children all our life to punish us for running away; +and, oh, maybe we'll never have any 'home, sweet home' any more!" + +At the picture she made for herself, of the cheerful room with the +dear home faces gathered around the table, which she might never see +again, she began to sob wildly. The tears were falling so fast now +that she could hardly see, but stumbled blindly along, stumping her +tired toes at every step, and clinging fast to Phil's old jacket. + +They had almost reached the house with the friendly windows, when a +great iron gate just ahead of them swung open, and an elegantly +dressed old lady walked out to step into a carriage, drawn up at the +curbstone. Behind her came another old lady, tall and stately, and +with something so familiar in appearance that both the children stood +still in astonishment. She was looking about her with sharp, +eagle-like eyes. Her skirts swished softly as she walked, and the +little bunches of gray curls on each side of her face bobbed gently +under her imposing black bonnet. + +"Aunt Patricia!" screamed little Elsie, darting forward and clasping +her arms around the astonished old lady's knees. "Oh, Aunt Patricia! +We're lost! _Please_ take us home!" + +If a dirty little grizzly bear had suddenly sprung up in the path and +begun hugging her, Miss Patricia could not have been more amazed than +she was at the sight of the ragged child who clung to her. She pushed +back the old silk muffler from the tousled curls, and looked +wonderingly on the child's blood-stained face with the blue bump still +swelling on the forehead. + +"Caroline Driggs," she called to the lady who stood waiting for her at +the carriage door, "am I dreaming? I never saw my nephew's children in +such a plight before. I can scarcely believe they are his." + +"Oh, we are! We are!" screamed little Elsie. "I'll just _die_ if you +say we are not!" + +Phil stood by, too shamefaced to plead for himself, yet fearful that +she might take Elsie and leave him to his fate, because he had refused +to apologise for his rude speech. + +Miss Patricia had been spending the day with Mrs. Driggs, who was an +old friend of hers, and who was now about to take her home in her +carriage. Mrs. Driggs seemed to understand the situation at a glance. +"Come on," she said. "We'll put the children in here with us; the +monkey and the rest of the gypsy outfit can go up with the coachman. +Here, Sam, take this little beast on the seat with you, and lift up +the barrow, too." + +If those children were half as glad to sink down on the comfortable +cushions as I was to snuggle under the coachman's warm lap-robe, then +I am sure that Mrs. Driggs's elegant carriage never held three more +grateful hearts. As we climbed to our places I heard Mrs. Driggs say, +kindly: "So the little ones were masquerading, were they? It is a cold +day for such sport." + +Miss Patricia answered, in a voice that trembled with displeasure: +"Really, Caroline, I am more deeply mortified than I can say, to think +that any one bearing my name--the proud, unsullied name of +Tremont--could go parading the streets, in the garb of a beggar, +asking for alms. I cannot trust myself to speak of it calmly." + +All the way home I felt sorry for Phil. I didn't envy him having to +sit there, facing Miss Patricia, with his conscience hurting him as it +must have done. That is the advantage of being a monkey. We have no +consciences to trouble us. I didn't envy his home-coming, either, +although I knew he would be glad enough to creep into his warm, soft +bed. His feet were badly blistered from his long tramp in his new +shoes. + +Stuart looked after my comfort, and I was soon curled up snugly on a +cushion before the fire. Phil and Elsie had a hot bath, and hot bread +and milk, and were put to bed at once. Elsie was coughing at nearly +every breath, and the doctor seemed troubled when he came up to rub +some soothing lotion on the poor little swelled forehead. He brought +something for Phil's blistered feet, too, but he never spoke a word +all the time he was putting it on. + +After it was done he stood looking at him very gravely. Then he said: +"Your little sister tells me that you took her out to dance and sing +in the streets to-day to earn money, in order that you may run away +from home. Is that so?" + +"Yes, sir," answered Phil, in a very faint voice. + +"So you are tired of your home," continued the doctor, "and think you +could find kinder treatment among strangers who care nothing for you. +I am sorry that my little son has come to such a conclusion. But if +you are determined to leave us, there is no necessity for you to slip +off like a thief in the night. Winter is coming on, and you will need +all your warm clothes. Better take time to pack them properly, and +collect whatever of your belongings you want to keep. I am very much +afraid that this day's work is going to make your little sister ill. +No doubt you will feel worse for it yourself, and will need a good +rest before starting out. Maybe you'd better wait until Monday, before +you turn your back for ever on your home and family." + +The doctor waited a moment, but Phil made no answer. After waiting +another moment, still without a word from Phil, the doctor said, "Good +night, my son," and walked down-stairs into the library. + +Now, I know well enough that, when we started out in the morning, Phil +was fully determined to run away from home, as soon as he could earn +enough money to take him. I couldn't understand what had changed his +mind so completely. You can imagine my surprise when he began to sob, +"Oh, papa! papa! You didn't kiss me good night and you don't care a +bit if I run away! Oh, I don't want to go now! I don't _want_ to!" + +It sounded so pitiful that I got up off my cushion and walked over to +the bed. All that I could do was to take his head in my arms and rub +it and pat it and rub it again. I think it comforted him a little, +although he sobbed out at first: "Oh, Dago, you're the only friend +I've got! It's awful when a little boy's mother is dead, and there +isn't anybody in the whole world to love him but a monkey!" + +The door was open into Elsie's room. She heard what he said, and in a +minute, she came pattering across the carpet in her little bare feet +and climbed up on the bed beside me. + +"Don't say that, brother," she begged, leaning over and kissing him. +"Dago isn't the only one that loves you, 'cause there's me. Don't +cry." + +"But, oh," wailed Phil, "papa didn't say one word about my staying! He +doesn't care if I run away. He never once asked me not to, and I +believe he'll be glad when I'm gone, 'cause he can't bear to see Aunt +Patricia worried, and everything I do seems to worry her. She says she +doesn't understand boys, and I s'pose it's best for me to go. But I +don't want to. _Aow, I don't want to!_" + +By this time he had worked himself up into such a spasm of crying that +he could not stop, for all little Elsie's begging. She wiped his eyes +on the sheet with her little dimpled hands, and kissed him a dozen +times. Then I think she must have grown frightened at his sobs, for +she slipped off the bed to the floor, "I'll tell papa that you don't +want to go," she said, trailing out of the room in her long white +nightgown. She had to hold it up in front to keep from tripping, and +her little bare feet went patter, patter, down the long stairs to the +library. Wondering what would happen next, I followed her into the +hall, and swung by my tail over the banister. + +Doctor Tremont was sitting in a big armchair before the fire, with his +head in his hands. He looked very much troubled over something. She +opened the door, and ran up to him. + +"Why, Elsie, child, what is the matter?" he cried, catching her in his +arms. "What do you mean by running around the house in your nightgown? +Doesn't my little daughter know that it will make her cough worse, and +maybe make her very, very ill?" + +He started quickly up the stairs with her, to carry her back to bed. +She clasped her arms around his neck, and laid her soft pink cheek +against his. "Oh, daddy dear," I heard her say, "Phil is crying and +crying up there in the dark, and the monkey's patting his head, trying +to make him stop. He's crying because you don't love him any more. He +said you didn't kiss him good night, and you don't care if he runs +away, and he hasn't a friend in the world but me and the monkey. He +feels awful bad about having to leave home. Oh, daddy dear, _please_ +tell him he can stay!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +WHAT DAGO TOLD THE MIRROR-MONKEY ON SUNDAY. + + +As soon as Elsie was put back to bed, Doctor Tremont came into the +room where I was still trying to comfort Phil, for I had skipped back +to him when they started up the stairs. Stirring the fire in the grate +until it blazed brightly, he turned to look at Phil. There was a long +silence; then he said, "Phil, come here, my boy. Come and sit on my +knee by the fire. I want to talk to you awhile." + +His voice was so kind and gentle that it seemed to me nobody could +have been afraid of him then, but Phil climbed out of bed very slowly, +as if he did not want to obey. Wrapping him in a warm, fleecy blanket, +the doctor drew him over to a big rocking-chair in front of the fire, +and sat down with him on his knee. I crawled back to my cushion on the +hearth. + +For a little while there was nothing said. The old chair crooned a +comforting lullaby of _creakity-creak_, _creakity-creak_, as the +doctor rocked back and forth, with the boy's curly head on his +shoulder. At last he said: "You think that I am unkind, Phil, because +I want to send your pet away, and cruel because I punished you for +speaking rudely to your Aunt Patricia. Now, I am going to tell you her +story, and maybe you will understand her better. The truth is, you do +not understand your Aunt Patricia, or why many of the little things +you do should annoy her. I want you to put yourself in her place as +near as you can, and see how differently you will look at things from +her standpoint. + +"She was the only child in a houseful of grown people, and growing up +among prim elderly persons made her orderly and exact in everything +she did. When she was a very little girl she was sent to a strict, +old-fashioned school every morning, where she learned to work samplers +as well as to read and spell. They used to tell that, at the age of +seven, she came home one day with two prizes which she had taken. One +was for scholarship, and one was for neatness in her needlework. +When she brought them home, her grandmother (that is your +great-great-grandmother, you know) praised her for the first; but her +grandfather (the one whose portrait Stuart shot) said: 'Nay, it is for +the neatness that the little lass should be most commended, for it is +ever a pleasing virtue in a woman.' Then he gave her a gold dollar, to +encourage her in always being neat and exact. She was so proud of it +that nothing could have persuaded her to spend it. She had a hole +bored in it so that she could hang it on a ribbon around her neck. For +a long, long time she wore it that way. She has often said to me that +the sight of it was a daily reminder of what her grandfather wanted +her to be, and that it helped her to form those habits of orderliness +and neatness in which her family took such pride. Long after she +stopped wearing the little coin, the sight of it used to recall the +old proverbs that she heard so often, such as '"A stitch in time saves +nine," Patricia,' or, 'Remember, my dear, "have a place for +everything, and everything in its place."' It used to remind her of +the praise they gave her, too. Her grandfather's 'Well done, my good +little lass,' was a reward that made her happy for hours. + +"Her room was always in perfect order. Even her toys were never left +scattered about the house. She has her old doll packed away now, in +lavender, in nearly as good condition as when it was given to her, +sixty years ago. You can see how anything would annoy her that would +break in on these lifelong habits of hers. She was a child that took +great pleasure in her little keepsakes, and the longer she owned them +the dearer they became. She kept that little gold coin, that her +grandfather gave her, for over half a century; and that is the dollar +that Dago lost. Do you wonder that she grieved over the loss of it? + +"The old blue china dragon is one of her earliest recollections. It +used to sit on a cabinet in her grandmother's room, and there were +always sugar-plums in it, as there have been ever since it was given +to her. I can remember it myself when I was a boy. One of the +pleasures of my visit to the old house was listening in the firelight +to grandfather's 'dragon tales,' as we called them. They were about +all sorts of wonderful things, and we called them that because, while +he told them, the old dragon was always passed around and we sat and +munched sugar-plums. That jar has been in the family so long that your +great-great-grandfather remembered it when he was a boy,--and that is +the jar that Dago broke. + +"There were very few children in the neighbourhood where your Aunt +Patricia lived. For a long time she had no playmates except the little +boy who lived on the adjoining place, Donald McClain. But he came over +nearly every day for four years, and they grew to love each other like +brother and sister. It was a lonesome time for the little Patricia +when the McClains moved away. Donald brought her a tiny carnelian ring +the day he came over for the last time. 'To remember me by,' he said, +and she put it on her finger and remembered him always, as the +kindest, manliest little playmate any child ever had. + +"She grew up after awhile to be a beautiful young girl. I will show +you her miniature sometime, with the pearls around it. The little +carnelian ring was too small then, and she had to lay it away; but she +never forgot her old playmate. When she was nineteen her mother died, +and, soon after, her father lost his eyesight, and she gave up all her +time to caring for him. She sang to him, read to him, led him around +the garden, and amused him constantly. She never went anywhere without +him, never thought of her own pleasure, but stayed alone with him in +the quiet old house, year after year, until he died. + +"Donald came back once after he was a man, and had been through +college, and stayed all summer in his old home. He was going to +Scotland in the fall. Before he left, he asked Aunt Patricia to be his +wife and go with him. She said, 'I would, Donald, if I were not needed +so much here at home; but how could I go away and leave my poor old +blind father?' + +"He would not take no for an answer, but went away, saying that he +would be back again in a year, and then they would take care of the +dear old father together. But when the year was over, the ship that +was bringing him home went down at sea in a storm, and all that Aunt +Patricia had left of his was his letters, and the little carnelian +ring he had given her, when they were children, to 'remember him by.' +And that is the ring that Dago lost." + +Phil raised his head quickly from his father's shoulder. "Oh, papa!" +he cried. "I'm so sorry! I never could have said anything mean to her +if I had known all that." + +His father went on. "That is why I am telling you this now, my son. +Maybe children could understand old people better, if they knew how +much they had suffered in their long lives, how much they had lost, +and how much they had given up for other people's sakes. Aunt Patricia +has been like a mother to me ever since I was left without any, when I +was Stuart's age. She sent me to college, she gave me a home with her +until I was successfully started in my profession, and has shown me a +thousand other kindnesses that I have not been able to repay. I have +been able to make up to her what she has spent in money, but a +lifetime would not be long enough to cancel my debt to her for all the +loving care she has given me. But even if she hadn't been so kind; +even if she were crabbed and cross and unreasonable, I couldn't let a +son of mine be rude to an old lady under my roof. One never knows what +troubles have whitened the hair and made the wrinkles come in the +temper as well as the face. Old age must be respected, no matter how +unlovely. + +"As for Aunt Patricia,--if you would only remember how good she was to +you after your accident, how she nursed you, and waited on you, and +read to you hour after hour,--she has been tender and loving to all of +you, especially little Elsie, and is trying to help me bring up my +children as best we can, alone. And, Phil, my boy, sometimes it is as +hard for us as it is for you, to always know what is best to do +without the little mother's help." + +Phil's arm stole around his father's neck. "I'll ask Aunt Patricia's +pardon in the morning, the very first thing," he said, in a low voice. +"I'll tell her that I didn't understand her, just like she didn't +understand me, and after this I'll be like the three wise monkeys of +Japan." + +"How is that?" asked his father, smiling. + +"Why, never say or hear or see more than I ought to. Keep my hands +over my eyes or ears or mouth, whenever I'm tempted to be rude. +Instead of thinking that she's fussy and particular, I'll only see the +wrinkles in her face that the trouble made, and I'll remember how good +she's been to you and all of us." + +His father hugged him closer. "If you can always remember to do that," +he said, "your part of the world will certainly be a happy place to +live in. If you can be blind and deaf to other people's faults and +speak only pleasant things." + +"Papa," said Phil, in the pause that followed, hiding his face on his +father's shoulder and speaking with a tremble in his voice, "I'm +mighty sorry I did so many bad things to-day: broke the music-box, and +ran away with Elsie, and mortified the family name, begging on the +streets. That's what Aunt Patricia told Mrs. Driggs. I never want to +run away again as long as I live. Oh, if you'll only forgive me and +let me stay, I'd rather be your little boy than anybody else's in the +whole world!" + +The doctor gathered him closer in his arms and kissed him. "Do you +think that anything in the whole world could make me give you up, my +little Philip?" he said. "You have been a great worry to me sometimes, +but you are one of my very greatest blessings, and I love you--oh, my +child, you will never know how much!" + +A great, happy "bear-hug" almost choked him, as Phil's arms were +clasped about his neck. Then he said, "I think we understand each +other all the way around, now. Shut your eyes, little man, and I'll +rock you to sleep." + +Phil snuggled down against him like a little bird in a warm nest, and +there they sat in the firelight together. The old rocking-chair threw +a giant shadow on the wall as it swung slowly back and forth, back and +forth. "_Creakity-creak_," droned the rockers. "_Creakity-creak_, +_squeakity-squeak_," and to the music of their drowsy song Phil fell +fast asleep in his father's arms. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +DAGO BIDS FAREWELL TO THE MIRROR-MONKEY. + + +Hey there, Ring-tail, I've just slipped in a moment to say good-bye. +I'm off for California in the morning. It seems that I'm at the bottom +of all the trouble in this family, so I'm to be shipped by the fast +express. But you needed waste any sympathy on _me_. I am going back to +the old California garden among the vines and the pepper-trees, where +I shall miss all the winter's snow and ice that I have been dreading. + +The boys do not feel that they are giving me up entirely, for they +will see me once a year when they visit their grandfather. I am sorry +to leave them, but the kindest master in the world couldn't make me as +happy as the freedom of the warm, wide outdoors. Next time you hear of +me I shall be back in that land of summer, watching the water splash +over the marble mermaid in the fountain, and the goldfish swim by in +the sun. + +Think of me, sometimes, Ring-tail; not as you have known me here, +caged in a man-made house, and creeping about in everybody's way, but +think of me as the happiest, freest creature that ever swung from a +bough. Free as the birds and the bees in the old high-walled garden, +and as happy, too, as they, when the sunshine turns to other sunshine +all the Gold of Ophir roses. Good-bye! old fellow! + +[Illustration] + + +THE END. + + + + Works of Annie Fellows Johnston + + THE LITTLE COLONEL SERIES + + The Little Colonel $ .50 + The Giant Scissors .50 + Two Little Knights of Kentucky .50 + + (The three stories above are also published in one volume, entitled + The Little Colonel Stories, $1.50.) + + The Little Colonel's House Party 1.00 + The Little Colonel's Holidays 1.50 + The Little Colonel's Hero _net_, 1.20 + The Little Colonel at Boarding-School + _net_, 1.20 + + + OTHER BOOKS + + + Big Brother .50 + Ole Mammy's Torment .50 + The Story of Dago .50 + Cicely _net_, .40 + Aunt 'Liza's Hero _net_, .40 + Asa Holmes 1.00 + Flip's "Islands of Providence" 1.00 + Songs Ysame 1.00 + + + L. C. 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