"Well, I'm the same feller, an' I don't mind telling you that I'm
awfully sorry that I promised that candy man I'd go with him. Do
you know that I came near crying at the supper table tonight; an'
Uncle Dan'l looked real good an' nice, though I never thought so
before. I wish I wasn't goin', after all, 'cause it don't seem a
bit like a good time now; but I s'pose I must, 'cause I promised
to, an' 'cause the candy man has got all my things."

The big tears had begun to roll down Toby's cheeks, and as he
ceased speaking the monkey reached out one little paw, which Toby
took as earnestly as if it had been done purposely to console him.

"You're real good, you are," continued Toby; "an' I hope I shall
see you real often, for it seems to me now, when there hain't any
folks around, as if you was the only friend I've got in this great
big world. It's awful when a feller feels the way I do, an' when
he don't seem to want anything to eat. Now if you'll stick to me
I'll stick to you, an' then it won't be half so bad when we feel
this way."

During this speech Toby had still clung to the little brown paw,
which the monkey now withdrew, and continued to gaze into the boy's
face.

"The fellers all say I don't amount to anything," sobbed Toby,
"an' Uncle Dan'l says I don't, an' I s'pose they know; but I tell
you I feel just as bad, now that I'm goin' away from them all, as
if I was as good as any of them."