Nancy is eleven and thinks I know everything. I never could resist or
contradict her.
"Now tell me about animals in Africa," she said. "Tell me lots."
This was better than usual, for I possess a heavily-mortgaged and
drought-stricken farm in some obscure corner of that continent and
have spent much time disputing with beasts who refused to acknowledge
my proprietary claims.
So I told Nancy tales of lions that roared till the stars tumbled
out of the sky with fright, and, when she crept very close to me, of
the blue monkeys with funny old faces who swung through the trees
and across the river-bed to steal my growing corn. I told her of the
old ones who led them in the advance and followed in the retreat,
chattering orders, and of the little babies who clung to their
mothers. I told her that monkeys elected not to talk lest they should
be made to work, but that there were a few men living who understood
their broken speech and could hold communion with them.
She led me on with little starts and questions and--well, I may all
unwillingly have misled her as to my general intelligence.
"We'll go to the Zoo to-morrow," Nancy commanded, "and you can talk to
the monkeys and find out what they think. Let's."
* * * * *
Nancy shook her curls and turned her back on the patient-looking bear.
"He's stupid," she said. "Why can't you find the monkeys? You know you
promised."
I suggested luncheon, but was overruled, and, on turning a corner,
read my fate in large letters on the opposite building.
"Come on," said Nancy, taking me by the hand.
Her first selection was very old and melancholy. He accepted a piece
of locust-bean with leisurely condescension and watched us with quiet
interest as he chewed. He rather frightened me; the wisdom of all the
ages was behind his wrinkled eyes.
"When you were in your prison did the Germans feed you through the
bars?" Nancy asked with great clearness.
Several people in the vicinity became aware of our existence and,
feeling the limelight upon me, I again mentioned the lateness of the
hour.
"Talk to him," she said. "Ask him what it's like in there."
I treated the blinking monkey to a collection of clicks and chuckles
which would have startled even a professor of the Bantu languages. He
finished his bean and emitted a low bird-like call.
"What's that?" asked Nancy.
"You see," I said, "he's brown and comes from a different part of the
country. It's like Englishmen and Frenchmen. Now, if he was blue--"
"Ask that keeper," said Nancy.
"He's very busy," I whispered. "We oughtn't to interrupt him."
Nancy at once ran over to the man.
"Have you got any blue ones?" she asked. "'Cos _he_ can talk to them.
We'd like to see one."
The man looked at me without interest. I was an amateur and a rival;
but Nancy's smile can work wonders.
"Yes, Missy," he said, "a beauty round here."
We reached the cage all too soon.
"Now talk," Nancy ordered.
Again I went through my ridiculous performance. The monkey looked at
the keeper.
The hand which lay in mine told me that Nancy's confidence was waning.
I knew then how much I valued it.
"Not very well, is he?" I asked of the keeper. "A little out of
sorts--this weather, you know."
My reputation was in his hands, but I dared make no sign. Nancy's eyes
were on my face.
The man looked at me and then at the eager little face below him.
"Heavy cold, Sir," he said stolidly. "Always makes 'em a bit hard o'
hearing. Poor old Topsy! Want to be left alone, do you?"
"What a pity," said Nancy. "Mother _will_ be sorry to hear that the
only one you could speak to was so ill and deaf."
"What were you giving him?" she asked as we walked away.
"Only a little New Year present for his children," I said.
"How do you know he's got any children?" Nancy demanded. "He didn't
say so, did he?"
"No, but I'm quite certain he has," I answered.
* * * * *