BY JAMES OTIS.
Chapter XV.
STEALING DUCKS.
Toby coaxed and scolded, and scolded and coaxed, but all to no purpose. The monkey would clamber down over the end of the tent as if he were about to allow himself to be made a prisoner, and then, just as Toby would make ready to catch the rope, he would spring upon the ridge-pole again, chattering with joy at the disappointment he had caused.
The visitors fairly roared with delight, and even the proprietors, whose borrowed property was being destroyed, could not help laughing at times, although there was not one of them who would not have enjoyed punishing Mr. Stubbs's brother very severely.
"He'll break the whole show up if we don't get him off," said Bob, as the monkey tore a larger hole than he had yet made, and the crowd encouraged him in his mischievous work by their wild cheers.
"I know it; but how can we get him down?" asked Toby, in perplexity, knowing that it would not be safe for any one of them to climb upon the decayed canvas, even if there were a chance that the monkey would allow himself to be caught after his pursuer got there.
"Get a long pole, an' scrape him off," suggested Joe; but Toby shook his head, for he knew that to "scrape" a monkey from such a place would be an impossibility.
Bob had an idea that if he had a rope long enough to make a lasso, he could get it around the animal's neck and pull him down; but just as he set out to find the rope, Mr. Stubbs's brother settled the matter himself.
He had torn one hole fully five inches long, and commenced on another a short distance from the first, when the thin fabric gave way, the two rents were made one, and down came Mr. Monkey, only saved from falling to the ground by his chin catching on the edges of the cloth.