The Story of a Monkey on a Stick | Page 8

the teacher's desk?" the little girl wanted to
know.
"I guess she must have taken them away from the children who had
them out, playing with them during lesson time," answered the janitor.
And he was right about that, as we know, but he was wrong about the
bottle of ink.
"But perhaps you can clean them," said the janitor to his little girl.
"That's why I brought the toys home to you."
"Yes, I can wash the Doll's face with soap and water," answered the
little girl. "But I don't believe I can get the ink off the Monkey's tail.
He's made of plush, and ink stains that very badly."
Then she got a basin of soap and water and began to wash the Doll's
face. In a little while the ink spots began to fade away, for the Doll's
head was of porcelain, though she was stuffed with cotton.
"It's going to leave the Doll a little darker color, though," said the little
girl to her father. "I can't get her as nice and white as she was at first."
"Well, never mind, you can pretend she went to the seashore and got
tanned," said the janitor, laughing. "Did you get the ink out of the
Monkey's tail?" he asked.
"No, it won't come out," was the answer, and it would not. The ink on
the tail of the Monkey on a Stick was there to stay, so it seemed.
"There! Just see what happened by your fooling!" said the Doll to the

Monkey a little later, when they were left alone for a few minutes. "My
face will always be dark, and your tail will be inky."
"I don't so much mind about my tail," answered the Monkey. "I think it
will be rather stylish to have it dark and inky on the end. But I am sorry
about your face. I never thought about the ink staying on or I never
would have daubed you the way I did."
"Well, don't feel too bad about it," advised the Doll, with a smile. "I
just happened to remember that it is stylish to be tanned. All the other
dolls and toys will think I have spent a vacation at the seashore, as the
janitor says. Really, after I get used to it, I shall be glad you put the ink
on me."
But the Monkey still felt sorry.
That night the janitor's little girl played with the Monkey on a Stick,
making him do all sorts of funny tricks. He would climb up when she
pulled the string, and sometimes he would just stand up on the top of
his stick, almost as straight as the Bold Tin Soldier.
Then, again, he would turn over backward and slide down head first to
the bottom of the pole. Another time he would tumble forward and
slide down the other way, turning somersaults on the trip.
"Oh, I just love this Monkey!" said the little girl.
In the morning the janitor took back to school in his pocket the Monkey
and the Doll.
"Be sure and bring them to me again, if nobody wants them!" called the
little girl, who had almost got the Doll's face clean.
"I will," her father promised.
The school was all right again the next day. The broken pipes had been
mended, and the boys and girls could come back to their lessons. The
teacher in the room where Herbert, Dick and their friends studied was

much surprised when the janitor gave her the Doll and the Monkey, and
told about finding them in her desk with an upset bottle of ink. He
related how he had taken them home over-night for safe keeping.
"And so your little girl cleaned them," said the teacher. "That was very
good of her, and I am going to make her happy. You may take back to
her this doll, with the make-believe tanned face."
"Are you really going to give my little girl the doll?" asked the janitor.
"Yes," replied the teacher. "The little girl from whom I took the doll is
not coming back to this school any more, and her mother sent word I
might give the doll away. So I'll give her to your little girl."
"That is very kind of you," said the janitor. "My little girl will be
happy."
The Monkey was put back in the desk until after school. Then Herbert
was called up.
"Here is your Monkey on a Stick, Herbert," said the teacher. "You must
not bring him to school again."
"No'm, I won't!" promised the little boy.
"I am sorry he got that blot of ink on the end of his tail," went on the
teacher.
"Oh, I don't mind," said Herbert, with a smile. "He can climb his stick