Father’s Monkey
Now from the beginning I’ll start my tale,
It’s the story of a monkey without a tail.
He belonged to my Father when he was a boy.
To the monkey this loss could have been no joy.
It was a great handicap, when tree he would climb.
He came to this country in the winter time.
In some way, we never knew how, it got frozen,
That was the reason, that by George he was chosen.
When he became tame, he wasn’t kept in a cage,
sometimes his antics kept the family in a rage.
He had his own quarters and there he would stay.
But he didn’t like to do so day after day.
Oh, what was his name? I think it was Joe.
He used to like butter-balls, and how they would go.
If he got a chance he’s steal any number
That’s one of the tales that I always remember.
The teapot disappeared from the kitchen one day
For that was the way he’d tuck things away.
Many weeks later, Oh, where did they find it?
In the flour barrel, where the monkey did hide it.
He got hold of some blueing, and what do you think
He heard some one coming, so he took a big drink
It finished him quick, how Georgie did wail
And that is the end of this monkey tale.