Alfred was quite delighted, and begged that they would talk a long time about this king, and all that happened to him; and when he was reminded that this would not be agreeable to the rest of the party, he seemed a little disappointed. Mr. Macdonald noticing it, told him, as he had not urged his entreaties, he would reward him by telling him a story that would please him very much.
Cromwell and the Monkey.
The little boy was instantly on his father's knee, who began to relate the following fact:—
"A large monkey is seen dancing about on the roof of a house with a baby in his arms. From the child's dress, he has evidently taken the infant from its cradle; the family seem greatly alarmed, and are spreading feather beds, carpets, and everything that is soft enough to break the violence of the child's fall. The animal shews no inclination to descend, and dances about with great glee."
"Oh, papa, did the poor child fall?"
"No; the monkey, which was quite tame, and a household favourite, carried it carefully down the same way he went up."
"You have indeed told me a funny story," said Alfred; "please some one make haste, and guess who it was."
"I think," said Mrs. Arabin, "that the baby became a very important person, and was one of the instruments of Charles's later troubles."