He withdrew his head from beneath the tablecloth, his long, picturesque white beard trailing grotesquely on the polished linoleum, and his whole attitude and appearance as near to the monkey kingdom as ever I had seen them. "What in Heaven's name do you think you are doing?" I bellowed. Before he could answer, there was a scuttling sound under the table; the cat vanished, and the monkey suddenly dashed out of cover, made straight for me and flung its arms round my right leg. "Get away, you brute!" I yelled, trying to shake it off. "Oh, Daddy, darling!" cried Molly, "isn't he sweet?" "_Sweet!_" I thought, wildly. "This is a nice home-coming for a man after a hard day's work in town." Stooping down, I tried to dislodge the little brute's grip on my trouser-leg, but the effort ended in failure. It had evidently found what it thought was a refuge from further pursuit--and there it meant to stay! "Come and get him off!" I shouted at Gran'pa. The old man crawled quickly towards me, took hold of the monkey's tail and pulled! It was then that I indulged in my first laugh that evening. There was a quick snarl from the monkey, a shout from Gran'pa, and the next moment Molly and I were witnessing the thrilling spectacle of a tug-of-war in which Gran'pa's beard and the monkey's tail were the chief objects of interest. "_Leggo!_" cried the old man. "Ah! You would--would you?" I saw the gleam of white teeth as the monkey tried more drastic methods on Gran'pa's arm, the sudden flash of a human hand as it reached out and cuffed the animal's head, and then a sort of rough-and-tumble on the linoleum. For about twenty seconds it was difficult to discern which was man and which was monkey. Then the antagonists separated. There was a whoop and a snarl, and a moment later the monkey was gazing down at us from the top shelf of the kitchen dresser. One would have thought that Gran'pa might have taken advantage of this little respite; but, no! Either he was intensely vindictive, or else he was fearful of his antagonist escaping. "Lend me that chair, Molly!" he shouted. He shuffled over to it, took it in his hands and approached the dresser. "You'll get bitten!" I warned him. ("And serve you Jolly well right!" I added, under my breath.) Undeterred, however, he placed the chair carefully in position and prepared to mount. The monkey eyed him for a moment with an interest which quickly merged into intelligent anticipation. Scrambling further away from its pursuer, it paused, looked over its shoulder and then suddenly reached down to the next shelf and seized a plate. "_Whoa!_" I shouted. CRASH! Another and another plate descended in rapid, nerve-shattering succession. "I say!" I cried. "This is getting beyond a joke. There won't be a piece of whole china left in the place if we aren't quick. . . . Molly! Go and fetch me that empty potato sack out of the pantry."