More than once he called the attention of his friends to a striking likeness between these creatures and some of his acquaintances, and repeated over and over again that he would be willing to cut his visit very much shorter than had originally been intended, if by so doing his father and mother could see the wonderful antics of the agile animals.
Bob and Tom were forced to literally drag him away from the entrancing scene, in order to prevent complete bankruptcy; and even though not less than two hours had been spent in this particular building, it seemed to him as if he had hardly entered before he was outside once more.
His friends had led him in turn to where the elephants, buffaloes, and bears could be seen, and at each enclosure he made the same remark:—
“I’d rather stay in the monkey-house, than go all over this park a dozen times;” and since their sole purpose was to afford him amusement, it became necessary to allow him to return to the spot where, in his mind, was centred the chief attraction of Central Park.
Not until nearly night-fall was he willing to drag himself away from this delightful occupation; and even then it is barely possible he might have made some protest against departure, but for the fact that the buildings were being closed for the evening.
With a long-drawn sigh he walked slowly on with his companions, and as the distance between himself and the prototypes of Berry’s Corner’s most distinguished citizens was increased, he began to think of his rapidly decreasing capital.
“I tell you it costs somethin’ to live in the city,” he said, instinctively placing his hand over the shrunken pocket-book. “Why, at home I can’t get a chance to spend a dollar in a month: but here it seems as if it was pourin’ out all the time. I don’t know what’ll become of me if I stay a great while.”
“When a feller’s on a spree money goes pretty fast,” Master Bartlett replied philosophically. “But you’ve still got the woodchuck skins to sell, an’ they oughter bring a good price. We’ll tend to ’em in the mornin’.”
“It’ll come kinder hard on me if I don’t get somewhere near what I’ve been figgerin’ on,” Josiah said thoughtfully, “’cause I’ve been goin’ it mighty strong since I struck this town.”
“You mustn’t bother your head ’bout that. You don’t come down here so very often, an’ can ’ford to blow yourself pretty well when you do strike the city. A hundred years from now it won’t make any difference.”