For about twenty seconds it was difficult to discern which was man and which was monkey. Then the antagonists separated. There was a whoop and a snarl, and a moment later the monkey was gazing down at us from the top shelf of the kitchen dresser.
One would have thought that Gran'pa might have taken advantage of this little respite; but, no! Either he was intensely vindictive, or else he was fearful of his antagonist escaping.
"Lend me that chair, Molly!" he shouted.
He shuffled over to it, took it in his hands and approached the dresser.
"You'll get bitten!" I warned him.
("And serve you Jolly well right!" I added, under my breath.)
Undeterred, however, he placed the chair carefully in position and prepared to mount.
The monkey eyed him for a moment with an interest which quickly merged into intelligent anticipation. Scrambling further away from its pursuer, it paused, looked over its shoulder and then suddenly reached down to the next shelf and seized a plate.
"Whoa!" I shouted.
CRASH!