nty won't take half the satisfaction in shunting you off
to the monkey woods if she thinks you want to go."

Beats all what a little encouragement will do for some folks. By the
time Purdy drops me at the Studio he's feelin' a whole lot better, and
is prepared to give Vally the long lost brother grip when he comes.

But I was sorry for Purdy just the same. I could see him, over there
at Bombazoula, in a suit of lavender pajamas, tryin' to organise a
cotillion with a lot of heavy weight brunettes, wearin' brass rings in
their noses and not much else. And all next day I kept wonderin' if
Aunt Isabella's scheme was really goin' to pan. So, when Purdy rushes
in about four o'clock, and wants me to come up and take a look at the
layout, I was just about ripe for goin' to see the show.

"But I hope we can shy aunty," says I. "Sometimes I get along with
these old battle axes first rate, and then again I don't; and what
little reputation you got left at home I don't want to queer."

"Oh, that will be all right," says Purdy. "She has heard of you from
Pinckney, and she knows about how you helped me to get the snakes."

"Did they fit in?" says I.

"Come up and see," says Purdy.

And it was worth the trip, just to get a view of them rooms. Nobody
but a batty old woman would have ever thought up so many jungle stunts
for the second floor of a brownstone front.

"There!" says Purdy. "Isn't that tropical enough?"

I took a long look. "Well," says I, "I've never been farther south
than Old Point, but I've seen such things pictured out before now, and
if I'm any judge, this throws up a section of the cannibal belt to the
life."

It did too. They had the dark shades pulled down, and the light was
kind of dim; but you could see that the place was chock full of ferns
and palms and such. The parrots was hoppin' around, and you could hear
water runnin' somewheres, and they'd trained them spotted snakes around
the rubber trees just as natural as if they'd crawled up there by
themselves.

While we was lookin' Aunt Isabella comes puffin' up the stairs.

"Isn't it just charming, Mr. McCabe?" says she, holdin' a hand up
behind one ear. "I can hardly wait for dear Valentine to come, I'm so
anxious to see how pleased he'll be. He just dotes on jungle life.
The dear boy! You must come up and take tea with him some afternoon.
He's a very shy, diffident little chap; but----"

At that the door bell starts ringin' like the h