With which cheering prophecy Thorny went off to rack his brains as to what could be done about the matter.

Half an hour afterward, the sound of a hand-organ in the avenue roused him from the brown study into which he had fallen as he lay on the newly mown grass of the lawn.  Peeping over the wall, Thorny reconnoitered, and, finding the organ a good one, the man a pleasant-faced Italian, and the monkey a lively animal, he ordered them all in, as a delicate attention to Ben, for music and monkey together might suggest soothing memories of the past, and so be a comfort.

In they came by way of the Lodge, escorted by Bab and Betty, full of glee, for hand-organs were rare in those parts, and the children delighted in them.  Smiling till his white teeth shone and his black eyes sparkled, the man played away while the monkey made his pathetic little bows, and picked up the pennies Thorny threw him.

“It is warm, and you look tired.  Sit down and I’ll get you some dinner,” said the young master, pointing to the seat which now stood near the great gate.

With thanks in broken English the man gladly obeyed, and Ben begged to be allowed to make Jacko equally comfortable, explaining that he knew all about monkeys and what they liked.  So the poor thing was freed from his cocked hat and uniform, fed with bread and milk, and allowed to curl himself up in the cool grass for a nap, looking so like a tired little old man in a fur coat that the children were never weary of watching him.

Meantime, Miss Celia had come out, and was talking Italian to Giacomo in a way that delighted his homesick heart.  She had been to Naples, and could understand his longing for the lovely city of his birth, so they had a little chat in the language which is all music, and the good fellow was so grateful that he played for the children to dance till they were glad to stop, lingering afterward as if he hated to set out again upon his lonely, dusty walk.

“I’d rather like to tramp round with him for a week or so.  Could make enough to live on as easy as not, if I only had Sanch to show off,” said Ben, as he was coaxing Jacko into the suit which he detested.

“You go wid me, yes?” asked the man, nodding and smiling, well pleased at the prospect of company, for his quick eye and what the boys let fall in their talk showed him that Ben was not one of them.

“If I had my dog I’d love to,” and with sad eagerness Ben told the tale of his loss, for the thought of it was never long out of his mind.

“I tink I see droll dog like he, way off in New York.  He do leetle trick wid letter, and dance, and go on he head, and many tings to make laugh,” said the man, when he had listened to a list of Sanch’s beauties and accomplishments.

“Who had him?” asked Thorny, full of interest at once.

“A man I not know.  Cross fellow what beat him when he do letters bad.

“Did he spell his name?” cried Ben, breathlessly.