“The monkey performed all manner of tricks: he danced, he fired off a little musket, went through the sword exercise, put on spectacles and pretended to read the newspaper, and did a great deal more besides. After witnessing these wonderful performances, we conducted both monkey and man into the drawing-room, where our mamma was sitting at the open window, and we all began in chorus:—‘Oh, mamma dear, pray, pray buy this monkey for us; he is such a darling!’
“Now, we were all, as children, very fond of animals,—though I am the only one, I think, who has the same liking still—and our mamma used rather to encourage us in it. In fact, we had almost a menagerie already, and this was not the first time we had teazed mamma to let us have a monkey. She seemed inclined to give way, and asked the organ-man if he would sell it. He hesitated: apparently a little struggle was going on in his own conscience, but his honesty prevailed, and he confessed that, except in his presence, and under his control, the monkey was both mischievous and savage.
“All this time the creature stood in front of a large looking-glass, bowing and scraping to his own reflection; and mamma appearing to doubt this bad character of the seemingly amiable monkey, the man at last said:—‘Let me leave him, madam, for a moment, and you shall judge.’
“The man immediately hid himself behind a sofa. When the monkey looked round, and no longer saw his master, the very expression of his withered, wrinkled little face began to change,—from an expression of good-temper it changed to one of fury. He at once jumped upon the mantelpiece, and before anyone had time to prevent it, he dashed the clock against the looking-glass, smashing both. My mother seizing him to prevent more mischief, he scratched and bit her cruelly, till he heard his master’s voice, and saw his stern face and uplifted arm. Then in a second he became the amiable tractable creature he had been before; but you may be sure we were glad to get rid of the horrid little animal.
“However, we still wanted a monkey; and great was our joy when papa brought us Moko. He bought him of a sailor, who declared he was as gentle and obedient as any dog, and had been the pet of the whole crew of the ship he had come over in. And I must say Moko was as nearly perfect as anyone I know, for he had but one fault: he was very greedy. I remember one day a box full of fine pears had been left in the hall near the foot of the staircase, and we found Moko hanging by his tail to the balusters, and helping himself to the pears. He was eating them in that uncomfortable position: his cheek stuck out from the quantity he had stuffed into his mouth; and we found afterwards that he had besides stowed away a good many under the staircase as a future provision.
“I have a painful recollection of Moko stealing bread and jam away from me. He used to come behind me quite quietly when I was sitting at the table at breakfast or tea, and climbing on to the back of my little chair, he would stretch his long hairy arm over my shoulder, and snatch the bread and jam away before I knew he was there. He always selected me to attack, I suppose because I was the smallest.
“In spite of this fault, we all loved Moko very much. He was petted by the whole household. He used to join us children in our games, and always appeared to take pains not to hurt us. He was allowed to play about the garden just as he pleased, for he would always come back when he was called; and it was pretty to see him climbing from tree to tree, or hanging on to a branch by his tail, and swinging backwards and forwards.”
