The Tale of Major Monkey

by Arthur Scott Bailey

Old Mr. Crow stepped forward quickly.

"I object!" he cried. "The less said about corn, the better!"

Aunt Polly Woodchuck hastened to explain that she meant no offense to anyone.

"I merely wondered," she said, "whether you gave your guests corn to eat at your party."

"Certainly not!" Mr. Crow exploded. "Certainly not!" And he glared at the old lady as if to say: "Change the subject—for pity's sake!"

"You're a stranger in these parts, I take it," Aunt Polly said, turning once more to Major Monkey. "No doubt you've been used to eating different food from what you get hereabouts."

"That's so," the Major admitted. "I've been living mostly on boiled rice, with a baked potato now and then."

"Ah! Cooked food!" said Aunt Polly. "And if you had that sort of fare, you must have been living with men."

The Major looked uneasy.

"I don't care to talk about my past," he murmured. "Just you give me something to warm my stomach a bit. That's all I ask of you."