The Story of Dago | Page 3

from home much of the time. That was why their great-aunt had
them in charge.
Their mother had come out to her father's home in California to grow
strong and well. The sun burned a pink into the blossoms of the
oleander hedges, and the wind blew life into the swaying branches of
the pepper-trees, but neither seemed to make her any better. After
awhile she could not even be carried out to her place in the hammock.
Then they sent for Doctor Tremont and the children.
The first that I knew of their arrival, the two boys came whooping
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 Ophir roses to
carry into the house.
Another quiet day went by, and then there was such a rumbling of
carriage wheels outside the garden, that I climbed up a tree and looked
over the high walls. There was a long, slow procession winding up the
white mountain road toward a far-away grove of pines. I knew then
what had happened. They were taking the children's mother to the
cemetery, and they would have to go home without her. "Poor
children," I thought, "and poor old great-aunt Patricia."
The next evening I heard the old gentleman tell David to bring Matches
and me into the house. The next thing I knew I was dropped into a big
bandbox with holes in the lid, and somebody was buckling a
shawl-strap around it. Then I heard the old gentleman say to Doctor

Tremont, "Tom, I don't want to add to the inconveniences of your
journey, but I should like to send these monkeys along to help amuse
the boys. Maybe they'll be some comfort to them. Dago is for Stuart,
and Matches is for Phil. It would be a good idea to keep them in their
boxes to-night on the sleeping-car. They are unusually well behaved
little animals, but it would be safer to keep them shut up until the boys
are awake to look after them."
You can imagine my feelings when I realised that I was to be sent