gone, the tenement rose in wrath against its tormentor; and Jocko
accepted the challenge.

All his lawless instincts were given full play. Even of the banana man
at the street stand who had given him peanuts when trade was good, or
sold them to him in exchange for pilfered pennies, he made an enemy by
grabbing bananas when his back was turned. Mrs. Rafferty, on the
second floor rear, one of his few champions, he estranged by
exchanging the "war extra" which the carrier left at the door for her,
for the German paper served to Mrs. Schultz, her pet aversion on the
floor below. Mrs. Rafferty upset the wash-tub in her rage at this
prank.

"Ye imp," she shrieked, laying about her with a wet towel, "wid yer
hathen Dootch! It's that yer up to, is it?" and poor Jocko paid dearly
for his mistake.

As he limped painfully to his attic retreat, his bitterest reflection
might have been that even the children, his former partners in every
plot against the public peace, had now joined in the general assault
upon him. Truly, every man's hand was raised against Jocko, and in the
spirit of Ishmael he entered on his crowning exploit.

On the top floor of the rear house was Mrs. Hoffman, a quiet German
tenant, who had heretofore escaped Jocko's unwelcome attentions. Now,
in his banishment to the upper regions, he bestowed them upon her with
an industry to which she objected loudly, but in vain. Shut off from
his accustomed base of supplies, he spent his hours watching her
kitchen from the fire-escape, and if she left it but for a minute, he
was over the roof and, by way of the shutter, in her flat, foraging
for food.

In the battles that ensued, when Mrs. Hoffman surprised him, some of
her spare crockery was broken without damage to the monkey. Vainly did
she turn the key of her ice-box and think herself safe. Jocko had
watched her do it, and turned it, too, on his next trip, with results
satisfactory to himself. The climax came when he was discovered
sitting at the open skylight, under which Mrs. Hoffman and her husband
were working at their tailoring trade, calmly puffing away at Mr.
Hoffman's cherished meerschaum, and leisurely picking the putty from
the glass and dropping it upon the heads of the maddened couple.

The old German's terror and emotion at the sight nearly choked him.
"Jocko," he called, with shaking voice, "you fool monkey! Jocko!
Papa's pet! Come down mit mine pipe!"

But Jocko merely brandished the pipe, and s