Summer of the Monkeys Read Online Free PDF Page A

the sack out on the counter, Grandpa took a pair of scissors and started cutting long strips, about two inches wide, from the soft material. Taking one of the traps, he mashed the spring down with his hands.
    “Now take that wire and wrap it around the spring, good and tight, so it’ll hold the spring down,” he said.
    Taking the wire in both hands, I started wrapping the spring as Grandpa had told me. I was so excited and nervous I couldn’t do anything right. Once I almost wrapped one of Grandpa’s fingers to the spring.
    “Take it easy,” Grandpa barked. “I don’t want my fingers cut off with that wire. We’ve got plenty of time. Those monkeys won’t run away.”
    “I’m sorry, Grandpa,” I said, rubbing his work-callused finger with my hand. “Thinking about all those monkeys, and all that money, has got me so worked up I can’t do anything right. Why, if I could catch all of them, I’d have more money than that Rockerfellow man.”
    Grandpa laughed and said, “I don’t know about that. I understand he has an awful lot of money.”
    Once the spring was securely wired, the jaws of the trap were free and useless. Taking one of the cloth strips, Grandpa started wrapping the jaws.
    I saw right away what his idea was. With all that soft padding on the jaws of the trap, it probably wouldn’t hurt a monkey’s paw at all.
    Just to let Grandpa know that I was using my head a little bit, I said, “Boy, Grandpa, that sure is a good idea. Why, with the jaws of the trap wrapped like that, a monkey wouldn’t even know it was on his foot.”
    “I think he’d know it was on his foot all right,” Grandpa said, “but once he gets in it, I don’t think there’s much he can do about it.”
    After the jaws of the trap had been wrapped, Grandpa unwound the wire from the spring and released it.
    Holding the trap in his hands and inspecting his work, he grunted and said, “It looks like a pretty good job to me. What do you think about it?”
    “It looks all right to me, Grandpa,” I said. “I don’t see how it could ever hurt a monkey’s foot.”
    Laying the trap down on the floor, Grandpa mashed the spring down with his foot and set the trigger.
    Stepping back, he stood for several seconds looking at it; then he grinned and said, “Just to be sure that it won’t hurt a monkey’s paw, I think it should be tested out, don’t you?”
    “Tested out?” I said. “How are we going to do that, Grandpa?”
    With a twinkle in his eyes and a silly little grin on his face, Grandpa said, “The only way I can think of is for you to poke your finger in it.”
    I didn’t even answer Grandpa. I didn’t have to. My actions spoke for me. Closing both hands, I put them behind me and stepped back.
    Grandpa grunted and said, “What’s the matter? Don’t you think I know what I’m doing?”
    “Sure, Grandpa,” I said, “I think you know what you’re doing all right; but I had my finger in a trap once, and believe me, it hurt. Why couldn’t we just poke a stick in it?”
    “No,” Grandpa said, eying the trap and rubbing his nose, “it wouldn’t do any good to poke a stick in it. We wouldn’t know any more then than we do now.”
    For several seconds we both stood there in silence, looking at the trap. Rowdy knew that something was going on and got curious. He eased over and took a look at the trap himself. One look was all he wanted. He started backing up like a crawdad. Then,sticking his tail between his legs, he disappeared behind some boxes.
    I couldn’t help smiling at Old Rowdy’s actions. He had gotten a paw in a trap once, and had never forgotten it.
    Grandpa broke the silence by saying, “Well, we’re not getting anywhere just standing here. It still has to be tested out. Now I’m going to poke my finger in it, but if that thing hurts, you might have to help me get it off my finger. Do you understand?”
    I nodded my head to let him know that I understood, but I didn’t like it at all.
    “Well,