Though Johnnie Green was staring straight at him, Major Monkey clung to his captor and held his wrinkled face close to the little man's cheek.
"He sorra now!" the little man said to Johnnie Green.
"What's his name?" Johnnie inquired.
"Jocko!" said Major Monkey's master. "Dat nice-a name, eh?"
Johnnie Green thought that it was. And Major Monkey himself appeared to like the sound of it. It was a long time since he had heard it. No one had called him "Jocko" since that day—weeks before—when he had run away from his master, the organ-grinder, in the village.
