Some monkeys, if they had been caught by a boy, in the woods, would have

bit and scratched and fought to get away. But Mappo was both a merry

monkey, and a good, kind one. So, when he saw that the boy was holding

him tightly, Mappo made up his mind that it would not be nice to try to

get away.

Besides, he liked boys, as well as girls, for so many of them had fed

him peanuts in the circus. And I rather think that Mappo was getting

tired of having run away, for he did not find these woods as nice as he

thought he would.

"Oh, father, look!" the boy cried. "I've caught a monkey."

"Have you, really?" asked a man, who came up near the boy. "Why, so you

have!" he exclaimed. "It must have escaped from the circus that went

through here the other day."

"Oh, father, mayn't we keep it?" the boy asked, as he patted Mappo.

"See, he is real tame, and maybe he does tricks."

"Of course I'm tame and do tricks!" Mappo chattered, but the boy did

not understand monkey talk.

"Oh, let me keep him!" the boy begged of his father.

"Well, I don't know," spoke the man, slowly. "A monkey is a queer sort

of a pet, and we haven't really any place for him."

"Oh, I'll make a place," the boy said. "Do let me keep him!"

"Well, you may try," his father said. "But if the circus men come back

after him, you'll have to give up your monkey. And he may run away, no

matter what sort of a cage you keep him in."

"Oh, I don't believe he will," the boy said.

So Mappo was taken home to the boy's house. It was quite different from

the circus where the merry little monkey had lived so long. There were

no sawdust rings, no horses or other animals, and there was no

performance in the afternoon, and none in the evening.

But, for all that, Mappo liked it. For one thing he got enough to eat,

and the things he liked--cocoanuts and bananas, for the boy read in a

book what monkeys liked, and got them for his new pet. The boy made a

nice box cage for Mappo to sleep in, and tied him fast with a string

around the collar, which Mappo wore.

"But I could easily loosen that string and get away if I wanted to,"

Mappo thought as he played with the knot in his odd little fingers.

Monkeys can untie most knots, and a chain is about the only thing that

will hold them.

The boy's mother was afraid of Mappo at first, but the little monkey was

so kind and gentle, that she grew to like him. And Mappo was a very good

monkey. He did not bite or scratch.

The house where the boy lived was quite different from the circus tent,

or the big barn where Mappo had first learned to do tricks. There was an

upstairs and downstairs to the house, and many windows. Mappo soon

learned to go up and down stairs very well indeed, and he liked nothing

better than to slide down the banisters. Sometimes he would climb up on

the gas chandelier and hang by his tail. This always made the boy laugh.

"See, my monkey can do tricks!" he would cry.

Then, one day, something sad happened. Mappo was sitting near the

dining-room window, which was open, and he was half asleep, for the sun

was very warm. The little monkey was dreaming, perhaps of the days when

he used to sleep in the tree-house in the jungle, or he may have been

thinking of the time when he went with the circus.

Suddenly he was awakened by hearing some music. He looked out in the

street, and there he saw a hand-organ man grinding away at the crank

which made the nice music. Mappo liked it very much. It reminded him a

little of the circus music.

And, as soon as the hand-organ man saw the monkey, he cried out:

"Ha! A monkey! Just what I need. My monkey has gone away, and I'll take

this new little monkey to go around with me and get the pennies in his


Then, before Mappo knew what was going to happen, the hand-organ man ran

up to the open window, grabbed the little monkey off the sill, and,

stuffing him under his coat, ran away down the street with him as fast

as he could go.

"Let me go! Let me out!" chattered Mappo, in his own, queer language.

The man paid no attention to him. Perhaps he did not understand what

Mappo meant, though hand-organ men ought to know monkey talk, if any one

does. At any rate, the man did not let Mappo go. Instead, he carried him

on and on through the streets, until he came to the place where he


"Now I'll put a chain and a long string on you, and take you around with

me when I make music," said the hand-organ man. "You will have a little

red cap to take the pennies the children give you."

While he was thus talking the man thrust Mappo into a box, that was not

very clean, and tossed him a crust of bread.

"I wonder if that is all I am to get to eat," thought Mappo. "Oh, dear!

I might better have stayed in the circus. It was nice at the boy's

house, but it is not nice here."

Mappo was shut up in the box, with only a little water, and that one

piece of bread crust to eat. And then the hand-organ man went to sleep.

Poor Mappo did not like this at all, but what could he do? He was shut

up in a box, and try as he did, he could not get out. Some other monkey

had lived in the box before. Mappo could tell that, because there were

scratches and teeth marks in the wood which Mappo knew must have been

made by some such little monkey as himself.

Mappo's life from then on, for some time, was rather hard. The next

morning the hand-organ man fastened a chain to the collar of the monkey,

and a long rope to the chain.

"Now I'll teach you to climb up on porch houses, go up the rain-water

pipes, and up to windows, to get pennies," said the hand-organ man.

"Come, be lively!"

He did not-have to teach Mappo very much, for the monkey could already

do those things.

"Ha! I see you are a trick monkey!" the man said. "So much the better

for me. I'll get many pennies from the children."

Then, every day, Mappo was made to go out with the man and his

hand-organ, and when the man played tunes, Mappo would watch the windows

of the houses in front of which his master stopped. The children would

come to the windows when they heard the music.

"Go up and get the pennies!" the man would cry, and he would pull and

jerk on the long string so that the collar around Mappo's neck choked

and hurt him. Then the monkey would squeal, and hold the chain with his

paw, so the pulling on it would not pain him so much. The hand-organ man

was not very kind to Mappo.

But Mappo made up his mind he would do his best to please his master.

"Some day I may get loose," Mappo thought. "If I do, I'll run back to

the circus, and never go away from it again. Oh that circus! And Tum

Tum! I wonder if I'll ever see the jolly elephant again."

Thinking such thoughts as these, Mappo would climb up the front of the

houses, to the windows, scrambling up the rain-water pipe, and he would

take off his cap, and catch in it the pennies the children threw to

him. Then sometimes, on the porch roof, Mappo would turn a somersault,

or play soldier, doing some of his circus tricks. This made the children

laugh again, and they would ask their mammas for more pennies.

"Ah, he is a fine monkey!" the hand-organ man would say. "He brings me

much money."

The hand-organ man never let him loose; always was there that chain and

string fast to the collar on Mappo's neck.

Mappo was made to wear a little red jacket, as well as a cap, and, as

the things had been made for a smaller monkey than he, they were rather

tight for him.

For many weeks Mappo was kept by the hand-organ man, and made to gather

pennies. Mappo grew very tired of it.

"Oh, if I had only stayed with the circus," thought Mappo, sorrowfully.

One morning the hand-organ man got up earlier than usual.

"We make much money to-day," he said to Mappo, for he had a habit of

speaking to the monkey as though he could understand. And indeed, Mappo

knew a great deal of what his master said. "We will make many pennies

to-day," went on the man. "Out by the big show, where everybody will be


He brushed Mappo's jacket and cap, and then, after a very little

breakfast, out they started. Through street after street they went, but

the man did not stop to play in front of any houses.

"I wonder why that is," thought Mappo, for his master had never done

that before.

And then, all of a sudden, Mappo saw a big white tent, with gay flags

flying from the poles. He saw the big red, gold and green wagons. He

heard the neighing of the horses, the trumpeting of the elephants, the

roaring of the lions, and the snarling of the tigers.

"Oh, it's the circus! It's my circus!" cried Mappo to himself, and so it


"Now we make much money!" said the hand-organ man. "The people who come

to the circus have many pennies. They give them to me when I play. Come,

Mappo, be lively--do tricks and get the pennies," and he shook the

string and chain, hurting Mappo's neck.

Then the organ began to play. But Mappo did not hear it. He heard only

the circus band. And he smelled the sawdust ring.

"Oh, I must get back to my dear circus!" he chattered. Then, with one

big, strong pull of his paws, Mappo broke the collar around his neck,

and, as fast as he could run, he scampered toward the big tent--the tent

where he knew his cage was. Oh, how Mappo ran!

MAPPO AND THE COCOANUT MAPPO IN A BOX facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestlinkedinmail