"He'd make a lovely doll," observed Rose. "I wish I had a doll that was alive."
"I'll let you play with him sometimes," promised Laddie. "I'm going to call him. 'Peanuts' 'cause he likes 'em so."
"Well, that would be a nice name for a monkey," said Mrs. Bunker. "But don't get your heart set on keeping this one, Laddie."
"Why not, Mother? Can't I have him?"
"I'm afraid not. In the first place Aunt Jo has no place in her Boston home for a monkey, and, in the second place, Alexis, the big dog, might bark at Peanuts and scare him."
Alexis was not there just then, or he would have seen the monkey, and surely would have barked, as he always did when he saw anything new or strange.
"Another reason why you can't keep him," said Mother Bunker, "is that the Italian hand-organ grinder will want his monkey himself. That is how he makes his living—by having the monkey collect pennies for him."
"But can I keep him until the organ man comes?" asked Laddie, as he cuddled his "riddle" in his arms.
"Oh, yes, I guess you can keep him until then," said Mrs. Bunker. "We couldn't turn the poor little monkey loose, anyhow, or dogs would chase him. We'll see what your father says when he comes home."
"And we can have some fun now, with Peanuts," added Russ. "We can tie a string to his collar and make-believe we have a circus."