- "'Willie had a purple monkey climbing on a yellow stick,
- And when he sucked the paint all off it made him deathly sick;
- And in his latest hours he clasped that monkey in his hand,
- And bade good-bye to earth and went into a better land.
- "'Oh! no more he'll shoot his sister with his little wooden gun;
- And no more he'll twist the pussy's tail and make her yowl, for fun.
- The pussy's tail now stands out straight; the gun is laid aside;
- The monkey doesn't jump around since little Willie died.'
"The atrocious character of this libel will appear when I say that my son was twenty years old, and that he died of liver complaint."
"Infamous!—utterly infamous!" groaned the editor as he cast his eyes over the lines. "And the wretch who did this still remains unpunished! It is too much!"
"And yet," whispered Slimmer to the foreman, "he told me to lighten the gloom and to cheer the afflicted family with the resources of my art; and I certainly thought, that idea about the monkey would have that effect, somehow. Bangs is ungrateful!"
Just then there was a knock at the door, and a woman entered, crying.
"Are you the editor?" she inquired of Colonel Bangs.
Bangs said he was.
