“Unraveling your sock, under the table,” said our Mary, with a laugh, and, sure enough, there sat Mrs. Monkey with a heap of wool on the floor beside her.
Mrs. Martin swooped down on her. “Would you have believed it! Three hours’ work undone in three minutes! I should have watched her. Now, to come back to Billie—my dog, you have not known any monkeys since you came to me. You must have been acquainted with this one before I got you. Perhaps you belonged to some Italians in the Bronx neighborhood, and one of them owned a little monkey.”
I could not help interposing an excited little song here, for that was just what Billie was
telling me and what the monkey was jabbering about. Angelina and Antonio, who owned Billie, had an uncle Tomaso who was an organ-grinder. He used to visit them and bring his monkey, and the little creature became acquainted with Billie.
“And now let me tell you, Billie, my share in this,” said Mrs. Martin. “A week ago I was going along College Street where an organ-grinder was droning out ‘Spring, Gentle Spring,’ and his monkey was collecting cents, when an automobile skidded and struck the poor man. He was taken to the General Hospital near by, and I took the monkey to the Humane Society on McCaul Street. I have visited the man since and taken him delicacies, and last night he died. He had no friends here, and as a token of gratitude he gave me his monkey. I have brought it to you, Billie, for a playmate, but it is only a trial trip, and if you and monkey don’t get on, I will take her to the Riverdale Zoo.”
Billie’s eyes grew dull; she shook her head nervously, and tried not to groan. Nella, the monkey, was squeezing her so tightly round the waist that she was nearly frantic. “Sister, sister,”
the monkey was saying, “Nella is glad to see you. She has been so lonely.”
“Billie, Billie,” I sang, “be kind, be kind; monkeys have rights, monkeys have rights.”
“She has no right to squeeze the life out of me and tickle me,” squealed Billie. “I never liked her. She is queer. I like dogs and birds.”
“Be good, be good,” I sang encouragingly.