The mother and tutor both rushed toward the window but before they
had crossed half the room the boy had leaped nimbly to the sill
and entered the apartment with them.

"`The wild man from Borneo has just come to town,'" he sang, dancing
a species of war dance about his terrified mother and scandalized
tutor, and ending up by throwing his arms about the former's neck
and kissing her upon either cheek.

"Oh, Mother," he cried, "there's a wonderful, educated ape being
shown at one of the music halls. Willie Grimsby saw it last night.
He says it can do everything but talk. It rides a bicycle, eats with
knife and fork, counts up to ten, and ever so many other wonderful
things, and can I go and see it too? Oh, please, Mother--please
let me."

Patting the boy's cheek affectionately, the mother shook her head
negatively. "No, Jack," she said; "you know I do not approve of
such exhibitions."

"I don't see why not, Mother," replied the boy. "All the other
fellows go and they go to the Zoo, too, and you'll never let me do
even that. Anybody'd think I was a girl--or a mollycoddle. Oh,
Father," he exclaimed, as the door opened to admit a tall gray-eyed
man. "Oh, Father, can't I go?"

"Go where, my son?" asked the newcomer.

"He wants to go to a music hall to see a trained ape," said the