She answers, “Me! Me—ow!”
—J. E. F.
POOR LITTLE JOCKO
I.
On the porch of a comfortable old house, shaded by fine trees, a group of young girls were gathered around a small table, sewing.
Suddenly the harsh notes of a hand-organ came to their ears, disturbing the peaceful stillness of the summer afternoon.
Marion Johnson, who was visiting her cousins, laid aside her work and listened.
“Why, I do believe it is the very same man that came to our town a week ago,” she exclaimed. “He had with him a poor, miserable looking monkey, which he called Jocko.”