“Yes, but don’t scare him.”
“I won’t scare him, sir. Here, Jack, old man, come down.”
The monkey turned sharply at the sound of his voice, and chattered at him.
“All right! I hears what you says,” replied Billy solemnly; “but the young gent’s got tight hold of the dog, and he won’t hurt you. Down you comes!”
The situation was ludicrous in the extreme, for, as if the monkey understood every word, and was angrily protesting and pointing out the danger, he kept on chattering, and bobbed his head from side to side.
“Yes, that’s all right enough,” continued Billy, “but you’re a coward, that’s what you are. Down you come!”
Another fierce burst of chattering, and the rope shaken angrily.
“Well, I’ve asked you twice,” cried Billy. “Here goes once more. Down you comes!”
If ever monkey said, “I won’t,” Jack did at that moment; but he changed his tone directly, for Billy ran to the bulwarks and began to unfasten the rope from the belaying-pin about which it was twisted, when, probably from a vivid recollection of having once been shaken off a rope, and apparently ignorant of the ease with which he could have escaped up into the rigging, the monkey began to slide down, uttering a low whining sound, and allowed the sailor to take him in his arms, but only to cling tightly to his neck.
“Ah, it’s all werry fine for you to come a-cuddling up like that! You bit me just now.”