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Poor organ-grinder! his face was wrinkled as badly as that of his missing assistant when attempting to pick a very bad nut. "You go find my mun-kee?" "O, yes," said the president, "we will hunt. Come on." They scattered, tumbling over fences, climbing shed roofs, diving into corners, shouting, yelling, and stirring up the neighborhood thoroughly. It did no good. "My munkee" refused to be found.
"He gone!" said the grinder, as he reached the boys. "You sheen him?" "Seen your monkey?" asked Sid. "Yes, yes! You sheen my leetle mun-kee?" "Why, no." "You you you," and the grinder swept the circle to find out if any one had seen the lost favorite. No one had seen him. "O, O dear!" lamented the grinder excitedly.
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