when one was not
giving him some difficult work to do, or finding fault in some way, the
other would be sure to do so; and Toby had very little comfort from the
time he began work in the morning until he stopped at night.

It was not until after the evening performance was over that Toby had a
chance to speak with Mr. Stubbs, and then he was so tired that he simply
took the old monkey from the cage, nestled him under his jacket, and lay
down with him to sleep in the place which Old Ben had selected.

When the morning came Mr. Stubbs aroused his young master at a much
earlier hour than he would have awakened had he been left to himself,
and the two went out for a short walk before breakfast. They went
instinctively toward the woods; and when the shade of the trees was once
reached, how the two revelled in their freedom! Mr. Stubbs climbed into
the trees, swung himself from one to the other by means of his tail,
gathered half-ripe nuts, which he threw at his master, tried to catch
the birds, and had a good time generally.

Toby, stretched at full length on the mossy bank, watched the antics of
his pet, laughing boisterously at times as Mr. Stubbs would do some one
thing more comical than usual, and forgot there was in this world such a
thing as a circus, or such a man as Job Lord. It was to Toby a morning
without a flaw, and he took no heed of the time, until the sound of the
church bells warned him of the lateness of the hour, reminding him at
the same time of where he should be--where he would be, if he were at
home with Uncle Daniel.

In the mean time the old monkey had been trying to attract his young
master's attention, and, failing in his efforts, he came down from the
tree, crept softly up to Toby, and nestled his head under the boy's arm.

This little act of devotion seemed to cause Toby's grief to burst forth
afresh, and clasping the monkey around the neck, hugging him close to
his bosom, he sobbed,

"Oh, Mr. Stubbs, Mr. Stubbs, how lonesome we are! If we was only at
Uncle Dan'l's we'd be the two happiest people in all this world. We
could play on the hay, or go up to the pasture, or go down to the
village; an' I'd work my fingers off if I could only be there just once
more. It was wicked for me to run away, an' now I'm gettin' paid for
it."

He hugged the monkey closely, swaying his body to and fro, and
presenting a perfect picture of grief. The monkey, not knowing what to
make of this changed mood, cow