A dusty messenger arrived from the distant battlefields where Father was stationed. He brought with him a large, securely sealed wooden crate.
The boys gathered around it in suspense, hearing strange scratching and soft chattering from inside. What could Father have sent them?
With Grandfather's help, they pried off the heavy wooden lid. Instantly, a small, hyperactive monkey leaped out and scrambled up the nearest tree!
The boys were absolutely thrilled. They decided to name their wild new pet Milo.
The next afternoon, Steve sat quietly at a table outside, carefully crafting a thank-you letter to Father on his wax tablet.
Nearby, Kynthos was proudly constructing a neat little house out of small sticks and colorful stones he had collected.
Suddenly, Milo swooped down from an olive branch in a brown blur. He leaped right into Kynthos's sticks, scattering them everywhere in the air.
Before anyone could stop him, Milo leaped onto Steve's table and slapped his little paws right across the freshly written wax tablet, smearing the careful letters into a messy blur.
Steve was furious. His face turned red, he crossed his arms, and he yelled at the mischievous monkey.
Kynthos sat in the grass, crying over his scattered sticks. Meanwhile, Milo simply climbed back up the tree, hanging upside down by his tail and chattering happily, completely unaware of the upset he had caused.
Grandfather walked out and couldn't help but laugh gently at the sight.
"Steve, if you lose your temper, you will teach him nothing. A wild monkey can be trained, but it requires repetition, consistency, and a calm mind. You must master yourself before you can guide him."
The boys realized Grandfather was right. Instead of being mad, they cleaned up the mess and decided to start training Milo with small, patient steps every single day.
