One of the boys became separated from the others, and stood watching the antics of the monkeys, and laughing gleefully at each comical trick performed by the grave-faced little creatures. Looking up, he saw an old man standing by him; an old man with sharp gray eyes and dusty clothes, who leaned heavily upon a cane.
"Curious things, these monkeys," said the old man.
"Ain't they, though!" replied the boy. "Luk at that un, now!—don't he beat all? ain't he funny?"
"Very!" responded the old man, gazing across the open space to where
Ralph stood chattering with his companions.
"Sonny," said he, "can you tell me who that boy is, over yonder, with his hand done up in a white cloth?"
"That boy w'ats a-talkin' to Jimmy Dooley, you mean?"
"Yes, the one there by the lion's cage."
"You mean that boy there with the blue patch on his pants?"
"Yes, yes! the one with his hand bandaged; don't you see?"
"Oh, that's Ralph."