Summer of the Monkeys Read Online Free PDF

here goes,” Grandpa said.
    Closing both eyes, he reached over and tripped the trigger with his finger. The trap snapped and Grandpa jumped. I closed both eyes and gritted my teeth. I didn’t open my eyes again until I heard Grandpa chuckling.
    “That’s just about the best monkey-catching trap I’ve ever seen,” he said. “It didn’t hurt a bit. I hardly felt it.”
    All excited, I helped Grandpa get the trap off his finger. Then, working together, we wrapped the jaws of the other five traps.
    Handing the traps to me, Grandpa said, “Well, it looks like you’re in the monkey-catching business. Let me know how you come out.”
    I told him I would, and thanked him with all my heart for helping me.
    Calling to Rowdy, I started for home.
    Just as I reached the door, Grandpa said, “Hey, are you sure your mother didn’t want something from the store?”
    My heart almost stopped beating.
    Digging Mama’s list from my pocket, I said, “Boy, Grandpa, I sure am glad you reminded me. If I had gone home without the things Mama wanted, she’d have made me wear a girl’s bonnet for a week. That’s what she usually does when I forget something.”
    Taking the list, Grandpa smiled and said, “Well, that’s what grandpas are for, isn’t it; to look out for boys?”
    I didn’t say anything—I didn’t have to—my old grandpa knew how I felt about him.
    While Grandpa was putting the things Mama wanted into a gunny sack, I thought of something.
    “Grandpa,” I asked, “where am I going to set my traps?”
    “I believe I’d go right back to where you saw the monkey,” he said. “If they’re not in that bur oak tree, they’re around there somewhere. Rowdy will find them.”
    On hearing Grandpa say his name, Rowdy whined and his tail started fanning the air.
    Grandpa looked at him, grinned, and said, “Say that again, pardner, I didn’t understand you. Do you want something?”
    Rowdy really told Grandpa that he wanted something. His deep voice made the tin cans dance on the shelves.
    Grandpa grunted, and walked to the rear of the store. When he came back, he had a meat rind in his hand.
    Handing it to Rowdy, he smiled and said, “Here you are, old fellow. That’ll be one monkey you owe me.”
    Rowdy pranced out of the store, looking as proud as he did when he had treed a possum.
    “Grandpa,” I asked, “do you think I should use bait when I set my traps?”
    “Bait?” Grandpa said. “Now, I hadn’t thought of that. Yes, I believe I would.”
    “I don’t know what monkeys like to eat,” I said. “What kind of bait would you use?”
    “Well, let’s see,” Grandpa said. “I’m not much of an authority on monkeys, but I think I’ve read where they’ll eat most anything. Do you have any apples?”
    “We have a whole barrel of apples,” I said. “Papa got them from an Arkansas peddler.”
    “Fine,” Grandpa said. “Just set your traps in the dirt at the foot of the tree, and hang an apple above each one. I think that’ll do the job.”
    Just before Grandpa handed me Mama’s groceries, I saw him slip something into the sack. I let on like I hadn’t seen this because I knew what it was. It was a sack of candy for Daisy and me; and was one item that would never find its way to Papa’s bill.
    “Here you are,” Grandpa said, handing me the groceries. “The next time you’re up this way I hope to see a sack full of monkeys.”
    Putting my traps in the gunny sack, I said, “You will, Grandpa, and one of them will be that hundred dollar monkey. He’s the jasper I want to catch.”

three
    O n my way home, I whistled and sang. I was so happy I made up a little song. It went something like this:
    “There are monkeys in the bottoms
In those tall white sycamores.
There are monkeys in the bottoms,
Worth a million or more.
    “So come along, Old Rowdy,
And let’s get on the trail
Of a hundred dollar monkey.
We’ll catch him by the tail.”
    Rowdy didn’t seem to like my singing at all. He