There never was such luck. I've always thought that I'd rather have a
monkey than be a million heir. There is nothing that could be half so
splendid as a real live monkey, but of course I knew that I never could
have one until I should grow up and go to sea and bring home monkeys and
parrots and shawls to mother just as sailors always do. But I've
actually got a monkey and if you don't believe it just look at these
pictures of him that Mr. Travers made for me.
It was Mr. Travers that got the monkey for me. One day there came a
woman with an organ and a monkey into our yard.
She was an Italian, but she could speak a sort of English and she said
that the "murderin' spalpeen of a monkey was just wearing the life of
her out." So says Mr. Travers "What will you take for him?" and says she
"It's five dollars I'd be after selling him for, and may good-luck go
wid ye!"
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What did Mr. Travers do but give her the money and hand the monkey to
me, saying, "Here, Jimmy! take him and be happy." Wasn't I just happy
though?
Jocko--that's the monkey's name--is the loveliest monkey that ever
lived. I hadn't had him an hour when he got out of my arms and was on
the supper-table before I could get him. The table was all set and
Bridget was just going to ring the bell, but the monkey didn't wait for
her.
[Illustration]
To see him eating the chicken salad was just wonderful. He finished the
whole dish in about two minutes, and was washing it down with the oil
out of the salad-bottle when I caught him. Mother was awfully good about
it and only said, "Poor little beast he must be half starved Susan how
much he reminds me of your brother." A good mother is as good a thing as
a boy deserves, no matter how good he is.
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The salad someway did not seem to agree with Jocko for he was dreadfully
sick that night. You should have seen how limp he was, just like a girl
that has fainted away and her young man is trying to lift her up. Mother
doctored him. She gave him castor-oil as if he was her own son, and
wrapped him up in a blanket and put a mustard plaster on his stomach and
soaked the end of his tail in warm water. He was all right the next day
and was real grateful. I know he was grateful because he showed it by
trying to do good to others, at any rate to the cat. Our cat wouldn't
speak to him at first, but he coaxed her with milk, just as he had seen
me do and finally caught her. It must have been dreadfully aggravoking
to the cat, for instead of letting her have the milk he insisted that
she was sick and must have medicine. So he took Bridget's bottle of
hair-oil and a big spoon and gave the cat such a dose. When I caught him
and made him let the cat go there were about six table-spoonfuls of oil
missing. Mr. Travers said it was a good thing for it would improve the
cat's voice and make her yowl smoother, and that he had felt for a long
time that she needed to be oiled. Mother said that the monkey was cruel
and it was a shame but I know that he meant to be kind. He knew the oil
mother gave him had done him good, and he wanted to do the cat good. I
know just how he felt, for I've been blamed many a time for trying to do
good, and I can tell you it always hurt my feelings.
[Illustration]
The monkey was in the kitchen while Bridget was getting dinner yesterday
and he watched her broil the steak as if he was meaning to learn to cook
and help her in her work, he's that kind and thoughtful. The cat was
out-doors, but two of her kittens were in the kitchen, and they were not
old enough to be afraid of the monkey. When dinner was served Bridget
went up-stairs and by-and-by mother says "What's that dreadful smell
sure's you're alive Susan the baby has fallen into the fire." Everybody
jumped up and ran up-stairs, all but me, for I knew Jocko was in the
kitchen and I was afraid it was he that was burning. When I got into the
kitchen there was that lovely monkey broiling one of the kittens on the
gridiron just as he had seen Bridget broil the steak. The kitten's fur
was singeing and she was mewing, and the other kitten was sitting up on
the floor licking her chops and enjoying it and Jocko was on his
hind-legs as solemn and busy as an owl. I snatched the gridiron away
from him and took the kitten off before she was burned any except her
fur, and when mother and Susan came down-stairs they couldn't understand
what it was that had been burning.
This is all the monkey has done since I got him day before yesterday.
Father has been away for a week but is coming back in a few days, and
won't he be delighted when he finds a monkey in the house?