toward the Monkey, fast asleep under the broad leaf, called:

"Hi, there, Mr. Monkey! It's morning! Now maybe you can find Herbert, or
he can find you!"

"Dear me! Morning so soon?" exclaimed the Monkey, stretching out his
legs. "I must have slept very soundly."

"Did you dream any?" asked the Jack.

"Not that I remember," was the answer. "But I am glad the rain has
stopped. Now I'll hop over the meadow, back to the place where I fell
off Carlo's back, and I'll wait there until Herbert comes for me, as I
am sure he will."

"I shall be sorry to see you go," said Jack, "but I suppose it has to
be. If you ever get back this way again, stop and see me."

The Monkey said he would and then, smoothing down his plush, he sat out
in the sun awhile to get a little dryer and warmer. He looked at the end
of his tail.

"The ink is almost washed off," he said. "I am glad of that."

Then he began to hop across the field, making his way through the tall
grass. He thought he would know it when he came to the place where the
string had come loose, and where he had fallen from Carlo's back, but
the grass looked so much alike all over that the Monkey was beginning to
think he might be lost in it.