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Monkey Jack and Other Stories

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MONKEY JACK AND OTHER STORIES***

E-text prepared by Justin Gillbank and Project Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders from images provided by The Internet Archive Children's Library

Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustrations. See 11877-h.htm or 11877-h.zip: (http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/1/1/8/7/11877/11877-h/11877-h.htm) or (http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/1/1/8/7/11877/11877-h.zip)

MONKEY JACK AND OTHER STORIES

Edited by Palmer Cox

MONKEY JACK.

A lit-tle maid weeps pit-e-ous-ly, In dire dis-tress de-mand-ing aid; Her pre-cious ball is up a tree, And ev-ery boy shrinks back a-fraid.

It hangs a-loft, a shin-ing thing, Caught by the ve-ry top-most spray, Where slen-der branch-es ta-per-ing 'Neath the light bur-den move and sway.

Hur-rah! he comes whom all ad-mire, Whose nim-ble legs, and lis-som back, And read-y pluck, that naught can tire, Win him the name of "Mon-key Jack."

See how he leaps from bough to bough To gain that most be-lov'd of balls! His out-stretch'd hand has caught it now; The branch gives way--the he-ro falls!

The fright-en'd chil-dren ut-ter cries, But e-ven yet he does his best; His vic-tor hand re-tains the prize, And clasps it to his faith-ful breast.

Laid on his bed, com-pos'd, though sad, With bro-ken leg and in-jured back, We find a lit-tle pa-tient lad, A-las, no long-er "Mon-key Jack!"

[Illustration]

With books and toys, what-e'er is best, His com-rades seek him, one and all, And shy-ly peep-ing through the rest, Poor lit-tle Ro-sa brings her ball.

Placed at the win-dow, day by day, While pil-lows raise his wea-ry head, His wist-ful eyes be-hold the play Which once with joy-ous heart he led.

And in his hand the ball is laid, And if to fling it is his whim, The sig-nal is at once obey'd, With ea-ger feet they run to him.

[Illustration]

But more than this they glad-ly do-- Each coin they get they save with care, And Ro-sa brings her six-pence, too, To swell the splen-did treas-ure there.

Mon-ey can pur-chase any-thing. The hap-py chil-dren send to town, And to the crip-ple's bed they bring A sur-geon of the first re-nown.

Oh, beau-ti-ful tri-um-phant day! When light of heart and free from pain, The pa-tient lad has slipped away, And "Mon-key Jack" climbs trees again!

[Illustration]

Here are a num-ber of lit-tle tots, and what do you think they are do-ing? I think the lit-tle girl on her knees is pay-ing for-feits.

A PAIR OF FRIENDS.

[Illustration]

Tab-by and Rover are very good friends, so that she is not at all a-fraid to eat out of his dish when-ev-er she has not din-ner e-nough of her own.

A RAIN-Y DAY.

Rain, rain, rain! How it did rain! The great drops ran down the glass in streams. Tom, Jack, and lit-tle Meg watched it for a long time. "O dear!" they said at last, "do you think it will nev-er clear? We want to go out and play."

[Illustration]

"Why do you not go up to the gar-ret, and play?" asked their mam-ma.

That struck them as a fine plan; and off they trooped, pound-ing up the bare stairs with their nois-y feet. They found three old brooms, and be-gan to play soldier,--Tom first, then Jack, with Meg last of all. The gar-ret was ver-y large; and their mam-ma could hear them as they tramped a-long, and could hear Tom's com-mand to right a-bout face when they had reached the farth-er end.

By and by they tired of play-ing sol-dier; and then they pulled down some old dress-es and hats that hung on a peg, and put them on, and made be-lieve that they were grown peo-ple. Then, out of an old box, they dragged a scrap-book full of pic-tures, and sat them down to look them o-ver.

[Illustration]

Mean-time their friend Rose had come, all wrapped up, through the rain, to make them a call. She brought a bas-ket, in which were her two kit-tens.

"The chil-dren are in the gar-ret," said their mam-ma.

So Rose ran up to find them. She did find them; but what do you think?--they were fast a-sleep.

[Illustration]

Sweet is the voice that calls From bab-bling wa-ter-falls In mead-ows where the down-y seeds are fly-ing, And soft the breez-es blow, And ed-dy-ing come and go, In fad-ed gar-dens where the rose is dy-ing

THE QUARREL.

[Illustration]

Grace and Bell have had a quar-rel. Bell was most at fault, but now she is ver-y sor-ry for what she has done. So she kiss-es her sis-ter, and the trou-ble is all o-ver.

OLD WINTER.

[Illustration]

Old Win-ter is com-ing; a-lack, a-lack! How i-cy and cold is he! He's wrapped
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