one corner of the cage, and apparently watching his every movement.

It was as if he had suddenly seen one of the boys from home, and
Toby, uttering an exclamation of delight, ran up to the cage and
put his hand through the wires.

The monkey, in the gravest possible manner, took one of the fingers
in his paw, and Toby shook hands with him very earnestly.

"I was sorry that I couldn't speak to you when I went in this noon,"
said Toby, as if making an apology; "but, you see, there were so
many around here to see you that I couldn't get the chance. Did
you see me wink at you?"

The monkey made no reply, but he twisted his face into such a funny
little grimace that Toby was quite as well satisfied as if he had
spoken.

"I wonder if you hain't some relation to Steve Stubbs?" Toby
continued, earnestly, "for you look just like him, only he don't
have quite so many whiskers. What I wanted to say was that I'm
awful sorry I run away. I used to think that Uncle Dan'l was bad
enough; but he was just a perfect good Samarathon to what Mr. Lord
an' Mr. Jacobs are; an' when Mr. Lord looks at me with that crooked
eye of his I feel it 'way down in my boots. Do you know" -- and
here Toby put his mouth nearer to the monkey's head and whispered
-- "I'd run away from this circus if I could get the chance. Wouldn't
you?"

Just at this point, as if in answer to the question, the monkey