The dog Newearth was one of those nice, intelligent, lovable dogs that attach themselves to their masters like real friends. When Alfred saw that Beppo had run away, he whistled for Newearth. The dog in four jumps caught up to the little monkey, and took him, as it has already been said, by the seat of his trousers, and carried him to his master.
“Why did you wish to run away?” asked Alfred, in a tone of reproof.
“Because—Because”—
“Come, come! Tell me frankly.”
“Because I wish to go back and be a little monkey with my papa and mamma and my little brothers. I do not want to masquerade as a man.”
“And then, why did you a little while ago wish to be my travelling companion?”
“Because I believed it might be nice, but instead it is not.”
“Do you wish truly to go home?”
“Oh, yes. Please do me the favor of never sending that dog after me again.”
“Do not be afraid. Without my command he will not move from here. How far away is your house?”
“Many, many miles.”
“And, before starting, do you not feel the want of eating something?”
To be frank, the little monkey did not feel the shadow of hunger; but, tempted by his gluttony, he lowered his eyes and, feigning to be ashamed, he replied, “I will eat a little mouthful willingly.”
Alfred rang a silver bell. A servant brought in a small basket of beautiful peaches. The little monkey did not eat them: he devoured them as quick as lightning. After the peaches, he saw presented a basket of cherries, so large, so ripe, and so shiny that they made the mouth water just to look at them. Beppo scrunched them all, three or four at a time. Not wishing to pass as a badly educated little monkey, he left the leaves, stems, and seeds. When he was so full that he could hardly see out of his eyes, he jumped upon the table, and, making a beautiful bow, said to Alfred: “Good-bye, Mr. Alfred. Excuse me for annoying you. Thousand thanks for your goodness.”
“Good-bye, Beppo. Happy journey. Give my respects to the family.”
The little monkey started to go away; but at that moment the servant entered with a basket of fruit that sent an odor so delicious around the room that it would wake the dead.
“And what is that fruit?” Beppo asked.
“Those are Japanese medlars,” Alfred replied. “I bought them for your supper to-night.”
Beppo remained a little thoughtful, and then said, “Oh, pshaw!” But, becoming resolute, he started again to go away. When he arrived at the door, he stopped a few minutes. Then, turning to Alfred, he said, “Excuse me, Mr. Alfred, what time is it?”
“Twelve o’clock, precisely.”
“Twelve o’clock! It seems to me a little late to start on a trip.”
“On the contrary, it is early,” said Alfred. “There are seven hours’ daylight, and in seven hours you can go pretty far.”
“You are right. Good-bye, Mr. Alfred. Excuse me for annoying you. Thousand thanks for your goodness.”
This time he left truly. But after a quarter of an hour Alfred saw him reappear in the room, all out of breath and tired out.
“What has happened?” asked Alfred.
“What has happened?” said Beppo. “The sun troubles me and dazzles my eyes. Would you be so good as to lend me a cotton umbrella to ward off the sun?”
“Willingly.”
Alfred called the waiter. After a few minutes the waiter brought a beautiful parasol, covered with large green and blue flowers.
Beppo took the parasol, opened it, and began to walk around the room, giving longing looks at the Japanese medlars.
“My friend,” said Alfred, “if you stay much longer, it will be dark before you get home.”
“In the daytime I do not know the road,” said Beppo. “Probably it would be better to wait until after supper.”
“Do as you think best,” said Alfred.
Saying that, Alfred began to laugh inside, and made a little noise that seemed to say, “I understand your weakness, my dear little glutton.”
When the hour for supper arrived, without waiting to be invited, Beppo sat down at the table. In a tone of command, Alfred said, “What are you doing there?”
“I am going to eat supper with you.”
“People who come to my table always dress decently. Go quickly, and put on your swallow-tail coat.”
“I do not know how to eat in a swallow-tail coat.”
“Then go to the end of the room, and content yourself to help me at my supper.”
When Beppo saw that Alfred was serious, he began to cry and scream; and, crying and screaming, he ran out of the room. But he soon returned. When he entered, he had on a swallow-tail coat, all buttoned down the front. He looked like a little “my lord.”
“That is very good,” said Alfred. “Sit down. Good appetite to you.”
The dish of medlars was brought on the table. It is useless to say that after a quarter of an hour the dish was empty and the little monkey was full.
“Now, then, I truly go away,” said Beppo.
But, while he took off his swallow-tail coat, the servant brought into the room a large dish of pomegranates.
“What a nice odor!” cried Beppo, sniffling and keeping his eyes on the plate. “Whom are they for?”
“They were for your breakfast to-morrow morning. But now you are going away, I will eat them.”
“I—would go away willingly, but somehow I only know the road in daytime. Would it not be better if I should wait until after breakfast?”
“All right!” said Alfred. “Your room is ready for the night. Good-night.”
The next morning, at breakfast time, the little monkey promptly presented himself, dressed in the swallow-tail coat. But Alfred, after looking him over from head to foot, said, “Who has taught you to present yourself at table without shoes and cravat?”
Mortified and confused, Beppo began to scratch his head and nose, and, whining, said: “The shoes hurt me. The cravat rubs my throat. I wish rather to go away.”
“Then leave me.”
Beppo went towards the door slowly, but, before going out, he took a long last look at the pomegranates. Then he went away.
“This time he has truly gone,” said Alfred. “I am very sorry. I liked the little monkey. What will the good fairy say when she knows that I chased him away? However, she always taught me to dress well and neatly. Oh, well! What is done is done!”
While Alfred spoke thus to himself, he heard a knock on the door. At the same time he heard a little voice say, “Mr. Alfred, did you call me?”
“Who is it?” cried Alfred.
“It is I.”
The door opened, and there stood the little monkey. He had on the little shoes, and he carried his head straight and stiff because the collar cut his throat. At that unexpected sight it is impossible to imagine Alfred’s happiness. He went towards Beppo, embraced and kissed him just as if he had not seen him for twenty years.
They both swore never to leave each other, and that they would make the voyage around the world.
The boat on which they were to embark was expected every day. Finally, it arrived.
On the night it sailed, Alfred and Beppo dined together, as it was usual to do. And during the dinner they spoke of a thousand things. They laughed, and were as happy as boys are on the eve of a summer vacation. Rising from the table and looking at his watch, Alfred said: “The ship goes at midnight. We have scarcely an hour to pack our trunks and put on our travelling suits.”
“I will be ready in five minutes,” said Beppo; and, dancing and jumping, he went into his room. When he was there, he immediately commenced to take off his swallow-tail coat, in order to put on a little white cotton jacket. Instead of shoes, he put on little double-soled boots. Instead of the usual hat, he put on an elegant blue silk cap.
Then he went to look at himself in the looking-glass; but, while he was proudly admiring himself and making with his mouth and eyes a thousand grotesque twitchings, he heard a small noise as if some one outside were trying to get into the window. At first, Beppo was frightened. But, taking courage, he opened the window, and he saw two paws that embraced him tightly around the neck, and he heard a voice suffocated with joy and consolation that said: “O my poor Beppo! At last I have found you!”