“Why, I aren’t got the nuts, gentlemen,” said Billy; “but, as I said afore, it is his natur’ to.”
“Whose, Billy?” said Mark.
“Why, the monkey’s, sir. Here, Jack.”
The monkey, who was performing a very kindly office for Bruff, as the dog lay stretched upon the sand, and making a slight repast off the insects, left off searching, and ambled in a sideways fashion to Billy.
“Look ye here, my hearty,” said the latter, as the monkey leaped lightly in his arms, and holding him with one, the sailor picked up an old dried nut in its husky covering.
“These here’s coky-nuts, as you knows very well; so let’s pick out a good tree, and up you goes and gets some and throws ’em down.”
Jack uttered a chattering noise, took hold of the light nut, turned it over, and let it fall.
“Toe be sure,” said Billy, smiling with pride. “Then let ’em fall, and ‘below!’ and ‘ware heads!’ says you. Ain’t he a monkey to be proud on, Master Mark?”
“Send him up then, Billy, and let’s have some down.”
“That I just will,” said the little sailor; and toddling to one of the most heavily-laden of the trees near, where the nuts could be seen pendent beneath the plumose leaves which glistened in the evening sun, he placed the monkey against the smooth-stemmed tree.