"Oh, father, look!" the boy cried. "I've caught a monkey."
"Have you, really?" asked a man, who came up near the boy. "Why, so you have!" he exclaimed. "It must have escaped from the circus that went through here the other day."
"Oh, father, mayn't we keep it?" the boy asked, as he patted Mappo. "See, he is real tame, and maybe he does tricks."
"Of course I'm tame and do tricks!" Mappo chattered, but the boy did not understand monkey talk.
"Oh, let me keep him!" the boy begged of his father.
"Well, I don't know," spoke the man, slowly. "A monkey is a queer sort of a pet, and we haven't really any place for him."
"Oh, I'll make a place," the boy said. "Do let me keep him!"
"Well, you may try," his father said. "But if the circus men come back after him, you'll have to give up your monkey. And he may run away, no matter what sort of a cage you keep him in."
"Oh, I don't believe he will," the boy said.
So Mappo was taken home to the boy's house. It was quite different from the circus where the merry little monkey had lived so long. There were no sawdust rings, no horses or other animals, and there was no performance in the afternoon, and none in the evening.