Poor Mappo did not like this at all, but what could he do?  He was shut up in a box, and try as he did, he could not get out.  Some other monkey had lived in the box before.  Mappo could tell that, because there were scratches and teeth marks in the wood which Mappo knew must have been made by some such little monkey as himself.

Mappo’s life from then on, for some time, was rather hard.  The next morning the hand-organ man fastened a chain to the collar of the monkey, and a long rope to the chain.

“Now I’ll teach you to climb up on porch houses, go up the rain-water pipes, and up to windows, to get pennies,” said the hand-organ man.  “Come, be lively!”

He did not-have to teach Mappo very much, for the monkey could already do those things.

“Ha!  I see you are a trick monkey!” the man said.  “So much the better for me.  I’ll get many pennies from the children.”

Then, every day, Mappo was made to go out with the man and his hand-organ, and when the man played tunes, Mappo would watch the windows of the houses in front of which his master stopped.  The children would come to the windows when they heard the music.

“Go up and get the pennies!” the man would cry, and he would pull and jerk on the long string so that the collar around Mappo’s neck choked and hurt him.  Then the monkey would squeal, and hold the chain with his paw, so the pulling on it would not pain him so much.  The hand-organ man was not very kind to Mappo.

But Mappo made up his mind he would do his best to please his master.

“Some day I may get loose,” Mappo thought.  “If I do, I’ll run back to the circus, and never go away from it again.  Oh that circus!  And Tum Tum!  I wonder if I’ll ever see the jolly elephant again.”

Thinking such thoughts as these, Mappo would climb up the front of the houses, to the windows, scrambling up the rain-water pipe, and he would take off his cap, and catch in it the pennies the children threw to him.  Then sometimes, on the porch roof, Mappo would turn a somersault, or play soldier, doing some of his circus tricks.  This made the children laugh again, and they would ask their mammas for more pennies.

“Ah, he is a fine monkey!” the hand-organ man would say.  “He brings me much money.”

The hand-organ man never let him loose; always was there that chain and string fast to the collar on Mappo’s neck.

Mappo was made to wear a little red jacket, as well as a cap, and, as the things had been made for a smaller monkey than he, they were rather tight for him.

For many weeks Mappo was kept by the hand-organ man, and made to gather pennies.  Mappo grew very tired of it.

“Oh, if I had only stayed with the circus,” thought Mappo, sorrowfully.

One morning the hand-organ man got up earlier than usual.

“We make much money to-day,” he said to Mappo, for he had a habit of speaking to the monkey as though he could understand.  And indeed, Mappo knew a great deal of what his master said.  “We will make many pennies to-day,” went on the man.  “Out by the big show, where everybody will be jolly.”