“I guess he’d rather have a cocoanut,” suggested Sue.  “My mother has some cocoanut for a cake, and there’s a picture of a monkey on the paper, and he’s eating cocoanuts.”

“But I haven’t any cocoanut to offer him,” said Mr. Raymond.  “I wish Jed Winkler would come and get his old monkey down!  Wango would come to him.”

“How’d the monkey get in here?” asked Bunny.

“I don’t know,” confessed Mr. Raymond.  “First I knew, I heard the lady I was selling a coffee strainer to exclaim, and I looked up and there was Wango skipping around on the shelves.  I guess Jed must have left a window open and the monkey got out, though he doesn’t generally skip around outdoors in cold weather.  Then he must have come along the street until he got to my place, and, when he saw the door open, in he popped.  Jed’s house is only a few steps from here.  But I wish Jed would come and get his Wango.”

“Here he is now!” cried a chorus of children’s voices, and, looking toward the front of his store, Mr. Raymond saw the old sailor coming in.

“What’s all the trouble here?” asked Mr. Winkler.

“It’s your monkey again, Jed,” answered Mr. Raymond.  “Lucky my place isn’t a china store, or you’d have a lot of damages to pay for broken dishes.  As it is, Wango can’t break any of my pots and pans, though he certainly is mussing them up a lot!”

Well might this be said, for, as the hardware man spoke, the monkey leaped from one shelf to another and, in so doing, knocked down a lot of tin pans which fell to the floor with a clatter and a bang.

“Can’t you do something to stop him?” cried Mr. Raymond.

“Well, yes, I suppose I can,” said Mr. Winkler slowly.  “I didn’t know he was loose till a minute ago, when some one came and told me.  I was down on the fish dock, talking with Bunker Blue.  But I’ll get Wango down.  I’m real glad he isn’t in a china store, for he surely would break things!  Here, Wango!” he called, holding out his hand to the monkey, now perched on a high shelf.  “Come on down, that’s a good chap!  Come on down!”

“He doesn’t seem to want to come,” suggested a man with a red moustache.

“Oh, I’ll get him.  He needs a little coaxing,” returned the old sailor.  “Come on down, Wango!” he went on.

Wango looked at the egg beater he held in one paw, and then, seeing the little handle which turned the wheel, he began to twist it.  To do this he dropped the pie pans he held in the other paw and they fell to the floor with a crash.

“Land goodness, he certainly makes noise enough!” said one of the women in the store, covering her ears with her hands.

Perched above the heads of the crowd, and paying no attention to the calls of Jed Winkler, the monkey began turning the egg beater.  He seemed to like that most of all.

“Maybe he thinks it’s a hand organ,” suggested Bunny Brown, and the people in the store laughed.