The monkey was very indignant, and if he could have had a fair chance at his enemies, would have soon punished them for their impudence. It was really amusing to see him afterward. He would pull his bleeding tail in through the bars of the hen-coop, and give it a malicious bite, as much as to say,—
“I wish you were off. You are of no use to me now; and you look terribly short.”
When they reached New York, at the end of their voyage, Captain Lee took Jacko out of the hen-coop, and put him in a bag, which was carried into the depot while he was purchasing his ticket. The monkey, who must needs see every thing that was going on, suddenly poked his head out of the bag, and gave a malicious grin at the ticket-master.
The man was much frightened, but presently recovered himself, and returned the insult by saying,—
“Sir, that’s a dog! It’s the rule that no dog can go in the cars without being paid for.”
It was all in vain that the captain tried to convince him that Jacko was not a dog, but a monkey. He even took him out of the bag; but in the face of this evidence, the man would persist in saying,—
“He is a dog, and must have a ticket before he enters the cars.”
So a ticket was bought, and Jacko was allowed to proceed on his journey.
The little fellow was as pleased as the captain when he arrived at the end of his journey, and took possession of his pleasant quarters in the shed adjoining Mr. Lee’s fine house. He soon grew fond of his little mistress, and played all manner of tricks, jumping up and down, swinging with his tail, which had begun to heal, and chattering with all his might in his efforts to please her.
Mr. Lee, at the suggestion of his brother, the captain, had a nice house or cage made for Minnie’s new pet, into which he could be put if he became troublesome, and where he always went to sleep. The rest of the time he was allowed his liberty, as far as his chain would reach.