MOKO.
Aunt Totty is an old maid—I need not say how old,—and very fond of birds and animals, which she professes to think are sometimes very superior to men. At her own home, which is at Paris, she has quite a collection of pets. She often comes to England, however, to visit her relations, and then her little nephews and nieces—for she likes children too—always get round her, and make her tell them stories about her animals or birds. One evening, when the children were gathered round her, she began in this way:—
“You want to hear about my pets, my dears? Very well: I shall have pleasure in telling you all about them; for although I have had some bites and scratches and pecks from them now and then, on the whole they are very estimable. In fact, they possess some qualities which I should be very glad to see oftener than I do in men and women: yes, and in little children too.
“The first pet animal I can remember was a monkey. I was then quite little, not more than five or six years old; and Moko—that was the monkey’s name—was almost as big as I was. I really think he considered that he and I were of the same species: at all events he used to treat me as a companion and an equal. But before Moko joined our family circle, we were very near having another monkey, who was not so amiable; and I think I will begin by telling you about him.
“In those days—that is, when your mamma and I and your two uncles were all children—you know that we used generally to live in France, and one summer your grandpapa took a country house a few miles out of Paris. Well, on a beautiful warm morning, when we children were all playing in the large garden, we heard the sound of an organ; and soon we saw, coming through the white gates and playing as he came, an organ-man, with a monkey sitting on the organ. A shout of delight resounded through the garden. When the new-comers approached we were even more delighted, for the monkey was dressed up in the funniest way possible. He looked like a tiny old man, with a cocked hat, long red coat, blue breeches, and a little pair of boots upon his feet, laced up with red laces.
“The monkey performed all manner of tricks: he danced, he fired off a little musket, went through the sword exercise, put on spectacles and pretended to read the newspaper, and did a great deal more besides. After witnessing these wonderful performances, we conducted both monkey and man into the drawing-room, where our mamma was sitting at the open window, and we all began in chorus:—‘Oh, mamma dear, pray, pray buy this monkey for us; he is such a darling!’
“Now, we were all, as children, very fond of animals,—though I am the only one, I think, who has the same liking still—and our mamma used rather to encourage us in it. In fact, we had almost a menagerie already, and this was not the first time we had teazed mamma to let us have a monkey. She seemed inclined to give way, and asked the organ-man if he would sell it. He hesitated: apparently a little struggle was going on in his own conscience, but his honesty prevailed, and he confessed that, except in his presence, and under his control, the monkey was both mischievous and savage.
“All this time the creature stood in front of a large looking-glass, bowing and scraping to his own reflection; and mamma appearing to doubt this bad character of the seemingly amiable monkey, the man at last said:—‘Let me leave him, madam, for a moment, and you shall judge.’
“The man immediately hid himself behind a sofa. When the monkey looked round, and no longer saw his master, the very expression of his withered, wrinkled little face began to change,—from an expression of good-temper it changed to one of fury. He at once jumped upon the mantelpiece, and before anyone had time to prevent it, he dashed the clock against the looking-glass, smashing both. My mother seizing him to prevent more mischief, he scratched and bit her cruelly, till he heard his master’s voice, and saw his stern face and uplifted arm. Then in a second he became the amiable tractable creature he had been before; but you may be sure we were glad to get rid of the horrid little animal.
“However, we still wanted a monkey; and great was our joy when papa brought us Moko. He bought him of a sailor, who declared he was as gentle and obedient as any dog, and had been the pet of the whole crew of the ship he had come over in. And I must say Moko was as nearly perfect as anyone I know, for he had but one fault: he was very greedy. I remember one day a box full of fine pears had been left in the hall near the foot of the staircase, and we found Moko hanging by his tail to the balusters, and helping himself to the pears. He was eating them in that uncomfortable position: his cheek stuck out from the quantity he had stuffed into his mouth; and we found afterwards that he had besides stowed away a good many under the staircase as a future provision.
“I have a painful recollection of Moko stealing bread and jam away from me. He used to come behind me quite quietly when I was sitting at the table at breakfast or tea, and climbing on to the back of my little chair, he would stretch his long hairy arm over my shoulder, and snatch the bread and jam away before I knew he was there. He always selected me to attack, I suppose because I was the smallest.
“In spite of this fault, we all loved Moko very much. He was petted by the whole household. He used to join us children in our games, and always appeared to take pains not to hurt us. He was allowed to play about the garden just as he pleased, for he would always come back when he was called; and it was pretty to see him climbing from tree to tree, or hanging on to a branch by his tail, and swinging backwards and forwards.”
