beginning to feel sad again. He had found no more berries, and
the elation which had been caused by his breakfast and his bath was
quickly passing away. The old monkey was in a tree almost directly above
his head, stretched out on one of the limbs in the most contented manner
possible; and as Toby watched him, and thought of all the trouble he had
caused by wasting the food, thoughts of starvation again came into his
mind, and he believed that he should not live to see Uncle Daniel again.

Just as he was feeling the most sad and lonely, and where thoughts of
death from starvation were most vivid in his mind, he heard the barking
of a dog, which sounded close at hand.

His first thought was that at last he was saved, and he was just
starting to his feet to shout for help when he heard the sharp report of
a gun and an agonizing cry from the branches above, and the old monkey
fell to the ground with a thud that told he had received his death
wound.

All this had taken place so quickly that Toby did not at first
comprehend the extent of the misfortune which had overtaken him; but
a groan from the poor monkey, as he placed one little brown paw to his
breast, from which the blood was flowing freely, and looked up into his
master's face with a most piteous expression, showed the poor little boy
what a great trouble it was which had now come.

Poor Toby uttered a loud cry of agony, which could not have been
more full of anguish had he received the ball in his own breast, and,
flinging himself by the side of the dying monkey, he gathered him
close to his breast, regardless of the blood that poured over him,
and, stroking tenderly the little head that had nestled so often in his
bosom, said, over and over again, as the monkey uttered short moans of
agony: "Who could have been so cruel? Who could have been so cruel?"

Toby's tears ran like rain down his face, and he kissed his dying pet
again and again, as if he would take all the pain to himself.

"Oh, if you could only speak to me!" he cried, as he took one of the
poor monkey's paws in his hand, and, finding that it was growing cold
with the chill of death, put it on his neck to warm it. "How I love you,
Mr. Stubbs! An' now you're goin' to die an leave me! Oh, if I hadn't
spoken cross to you yesterday, an' if I hadn't a'most choked you the day
that we went to the skeleton's to dinner! Forgive me for ever bein' bad
to you, won't you, Mr. Stubbs?"

As the monkey's groans in