But Jocko, seeing no good reason why he should stop till he had his peanuts, gave vent to howls in another key, much worse than the first.
"Ow!" said Jasper, with a grimace, "that sets my teeth on edge. Here, Ben, you may have your monkey," pushing Jocko off from his lap.
"My monkey?" said Ben, running around with the peanut bag, looking for a place to hide it. "Well, I think that's nice, when you made me bring him up here."
"Oh, well, he's yours now, as long as he's in your care," said Jasper, coolly. "That's right, Jocko, run after Master Ben;" and he dropped the chain.
There was no need to tell Jocko that, as long as Ben had the peanut bag. So he leaped to the broad back and ran down the arm, at the end of which was the coveted prize.
"No, you don't," said Ben, transferring the bag to the other hand, when Jocko like lightning ran over the broad back again, and down the other arm; this pretty game being played with no gain to either party, until Jasper begged for a pause.
"I should think you'd laugh," said Ben, turning round with a hot, red face, Jocko sticking to one shoulder, rage in his eye.
"O dear me!" said Jasper, faintly, and wiping his eyes. "Ha! Ha! Ha!" and he burrowed in the chair-depths, holding his sides.
"To get me into this scrape," exclaimed Ben, flying around with a wild step. "Stop that," for Jocko in this little diversion nearly gripped the prize. "There now!" He rushed to the closet, threw the bag in, and slammed the door. "Now, sir! who's got those peanuts?" and he gazed into the monkey's little wrinkled face.
Defrauded of his prize and, what was worse, with no hopes of getting it, for Jocko could see that the closet door was shut, he now set up a piteous sobbing, putting his paws up to his poor little eyes. And there he clung on Ben's shoulder, crying like a child.