“What’s a rutabaga, Janie,” said a small voice at her elbow. She jumped.
“Oh, Robin, it’s you. I must have been talking to myself. It’s old age creeping on.”
“How old are you, Janie,” the small voice persisted.
“I’m thirteen.” She picked up the afternoon paper with one hand, ruffled Robin’s hair with the other, and ran up her own front steps.
“Mom, oh Mom,” she called as the screen door slammed behind her. “School’s out, and I’m not even happy about it. Oh Mom, may I make some lemonade?”
Mrs. Murray called from upstairs, “Yes dear, make some for the boys while you’re at it, and don’t spill any sugar on the floor.”
The sugar, lemons, and ice cubes were assembled, but before Jane could finish there was an excited chirping, hopping, and rattling on the back porch.
“Oh Butch, you darling monkey! I almost forgot to fix that bandage.” She gathered the little furry fellow up in her arms. He was the adored pet of the youngest of Jane’s brothers, Davey.
Janie could never forget that windy fall night two years ago when they first saw Butch. Daddy had been working on the case of an organ grinder who became involved in difficulties with the immigration authorities. All pleas failed and Mr. Calento made plans to return to his native Italy, but he couldn’t take his monkey with him. Monkeys catch pneumonia easily, and an Atlantic voyage in the stormy month of October would have been dangerous to his health. With tears in his eyes Mr. Calento presented his pet to Daddy as part payment of his fee.
What an uproar that was! Of course the children were enchanted, but Mom was aghast.