“Yes, that is right,” she answered, speaking very slowly and distinctly.
“We do not like the music; and we do not like to see that poor monkey dance; and, above all, we do not like to see you hurting his neck by pulling that chain.”
The look of sullen anger which came over the man’s face quickly disappeared when he saw the coin in Aunt Kate’s hand.
“I will give you this,” she said, holding up the piece of money, “if you will stay here and let Jocko rest for one hour.”
The organ-grinder smiled and sat down on the steps as a sign of agreement.
At first, Jocko could scarcely believe that he might rest his weary little legs and feet. After a while, however, he threw himself at full length upon the porch floor as some worn out child might have done.
Marion was left on guard to see that he was not disturbed when the others went to get food.
When they returned they found Jocko resting on a soft cushion, a comfort his little body had never known before.
Only after being promised more money did the organ-grinder permit Marion to take off Jocko’s hard leather collar, underneath which she had discovered sores.