oping
down the paths after the gardener, shouting, "Show us the monkeys,
David! Show us the monkeys! Which one is Dago, and which one is
Matches?"

I did not want to come down for fear that Stuart might treat me as he
had done Elsie's kitten. I had heard a letter read, which told how he
had tried to cure it of fits. He gave it a shock with his father's
electric battery, and turned the current on so strong that he killed
it. Not knowing but that he might try some trick on me, I held back
until I saw him feeding peanuts to Matches. I never could bear her.
She is the only monkey in the garden that I have never been on
friendly terms with, so I came down at once to get my share of
peanuts, and hers, too, if possible.

I must say that I took a great fancy to both the boys; they were so
friendly and good-natured. They each had round chubby faces, and hard
little fists. There was a wide-awake look in their big, honest, gray
eyes, and their light hair curled over their heads in little tight
rings. Elsie was only five,--a restless, dimpled little bunch of
mischief, always getting into trouble, because she would try to do
everything that her brothers did.

The gardener fished her out of the fountain twice in the week she was
there. She was reaching for the goldfish with her fat little hands,
and toppled in, head first. Phil began the week by getting a bee-sting
on his lip, and a bite on the cheek from a parrot that he was teasing.
As for Stuart, I think he had climbed every tree on the place before
the first day was over, and torn his best clothes nearly off his back.
The gardener had a sorry time of it while they stayed. He complained
that "a herd of wild buffalo turned loose to rend and destroy" would
not have done as much damage to his fruit and flowers as they. "Not as
they means to do it, I don't think," he said. "But they're so
chock-full of _go_ that they fair runs away with their selves." The
gardener's excitement did not long last, however.

[Illustration]

There came a day when there was no noise in the garden. The boys
wandered around all morning without playing, now and then wiping their
eyes on their jacket sleeves, and talking in low tones. Once they
threw themselves down on the grass and hid their faces, and cried and
sobbed, until their grandfather came out and led them away. The blinds
were all drawn next morning, and the gardener came and cut down nearly
all his lilies, and great armfuls of the Gold of Op