“Hal did a pretty good job,” pronounced Dr. Selden, “but I’ll put on some better splints and he’ll come out all right, I think. What are you going to do with him?”
“Keep him. He will make such a funny pet.”
Dr. Selden shook his head. “I don’t think your grandmother will approve of such a pet. Crows are very mischievous, you know.”
“But not more so than monkeys, and my father had a monkey, you told me.”
“Yes, to be sure,” Dr. Selden smiled reminiscently, “and many a prank he played.”
“Tell me some.”
“Well, I remember on one occasion when your grandmother was giving a dinner to some distinguished guests that the meal was delayed nearly an hour because Master Monkey got into the dining-room just before the meal was to be served. The butler had left the room for a moment and in the twinkling of an eye Toots, that was the monkey’s name, had made havoc of the butler’s careful preparations, flowers, nuts, candies overturned, water streaming over everything, glasses upset, the table in a perfect mess.”
Joanne laughed. “What did poor Gradda do?”
“What did the poor butler do? He came to your grandmother and asked her what he should do. There was but one thing to do and that was to lay the table again and delay the dinner. It was a mercy it wasn’t utterly spoiled.”
“And what happened to the monkey?”