used to it, I shall be glad you
put the ink on me."

But the Monkey still felt sorry.

That night the janitor's little girl played with the Monkey on a Stick,
making him do all sorts of funny tricks. He would climb up when she
pulled the string, and sometimes he would just stand up on the top of
his stick, almost as straight as the Bold Tin Soldier.

Then, again, he would turn over backward and slide down head first to
the bottom of the pole. Another time he would tumble forward and slide
down the other way, turning somersaults on the trip.

"Oh, I just love this Monkey!" said the little girl.

In the morning the janitor took back to school in his pocket the Monkey
and the Doll.

"Be sure and bring them to me again, if nobody wants them!" called the
little girl, who had almost got the Doll's face clean.

"I will," her father promised.

The school was all right again the next day. The broken pipes had been
mended, and the boys and girls could come back to their lessons. The
teacher in the room where Herbert, Dick and their friends studied was
much surprised when the janitor gave her the Doll and the Monkey, and
told about finding them in her desk with an upset bottle of ink. He
related how he had taken them home over-night for safe keeping.

"And so your little girl cleaned them," said the teacher. "That was very
good of her, and I am going to make her happy. You may take back to her
this doll, with the make-believe tanned face."

"Are you really going to give my little girl the doll?" asked the
janitor.

"Yes," replied the teacher. "The little girl from whom I took the doll
is not coming back to this school any more, and her mother sent word I
might give the doll away. So I'll give her to your little girl."

"That is very kind of you," said the janitor. "My little girl will be
happy."

The Monkey was put back in the desk until after school. Then Herbert was
called up.

"Here is your Monkey on a Stick, Herbert," said the teacher. "You must
not bring him to school again."

"No'm, I won't!" promised the little boy.

"I am sorry he got that blot of ink on the end of his tail," went on the
teacher.

"Oh, I don't mind," said Herbert, with a smile. "He can climb his stick
just the same."

And the Monkey really could. The ink on his tail didn't bother him a
bit. Up and down the stick he went, when Herbert pulled the string, and
even the teacher had to laugh, the Monkey was so funny.

"I'm so glad I hav