Again was the punishment about to be repeated, but before the blow could be delivered Philip suddenly remembered how to play, and, swallowing his pride as best he could, took the banjo, running his fingers lightly across the strings.
At this new phase in the game of monkey-turned-trainer Goliah joined the party, and his memory proved to be even more perfect than that of the others.
It had been Philip’s greatest achievement in the education of these animals to form a trio, each ape performing on a different instrument; and in order that the picture should be correct, Goliah called two of those who were playing for the dancers to range themselves on either side of his late master.
Thus behold the youth whose proudest boast had been that he could train any animal, however ferocious, seated between two enormous baboons, strumming on a banjo as if his very life depended upon the amount of noise produced.
It is not necessary to say that this was no enjoyment to him; but it certainly was to the remainder of the party, and they grinned and chattered their approbation of the scene, while the one who had first started the sport stood directly behind the musician, armed with a long stick.
The unfortunate captive jangled the strings without regard to harmony, and fondly fancied that this was the lowest humiliation he would be forced to bear. But his genial captors had a different opinion regarding the matter.
One of the party whom Philip had taught to climb a pole now seemed to enter into conversation with Goliah—who shall say that apes cannot talk?—and a few moments later he and two others left the apartment.
Philip was playing industriously to save his back from the shower of blows which descended at the slightest diminution of noise, when the three animals returned with a long, stout pole, and the musician dropped his instrument, literally dazed with fear and bewilderment, for now he understood what further sport he would be expected to make for the entertainment of this long-tailed party.
Was he to be called upon to perform every trick which had been taught in his emporium of wild animals? If such should prove to be the case, three days would hardly suffice in which to display all the varied accomplishments he had prided himself upon teaching, and in that time his exertions might prove fatal.
Cold streams of perspiration ran down his face, although the ball-room was far from being warm, at the bare idea of the brutish part he was called upon to perform.