“Please, mamma, tell me all you can remember about Mrs. G.’s parrot,” cried Minnie, a few days later. “Was she as wonderful as our Poll? and was she as handsome?”

Mrs. Lee smiled. “If I should answer all your questions,” she said presently, “I should have work for the rest of the day. My friend’s parrot was green, with a brilliant red neck and tail. She was a great talker, and seemed to understand the meaning of much of what was said in her presence. I can recollect now two or three incidents which are well worth repeating.

“Polly was very fond of children, and enjoyed being let out of her cage to play with them as much as our Poll does. One day, when Mrs. G. had company, they were all startled by hearing loud and repeated screams of distress. Recognizing the voice of her favorite bird, my friend ran hastily into the yard, expecting to see Polly in some dreadful trouble. To her surprise, there was the bird perched safely on the clothes line; but going a few steps farther, she saw her youngest child, a darling girl between two and three years old, just balancing over the edge of a hogshead of water, and entirely unable to recover herself, or to utter one sound. Situated as she was, the poor child could not have remained long in that position, and, but for the alarm given by the watchful bird, must have fallen into the water and drowned.”

“O, wasn’t that a good bird, mamma? I’m sure they all must have loved her better than ever. Will you please tell the rest?”“Mr. G. was for a long time ill, and was unable to rest well at night. Polly, who always remained in their chamber at night, was in the habit of rising early, and practising all her accomplishments by herself as soon as she could see. She would begin, ‘Mr. G.,’ and then go on, ‘My dear,’ the name he always called his wife, ‘Francis, Maria,’ until she had repeated the name of every member of the family; after which she chattered away a strange mixture of sense and nonsense until called to breakfast. After the gentleman was so ill, his best hours for rest were soon after dawn, and my friend would whisper, ‘Still, Polly! keep still!’

“This caution the parrot tried to enforce on herself by softly repeating the words away down her throat—‘Keep still; Polly! keep still!’ and ever after until Mr. G.’s death, whenever she saw her mistress point to the bed, and put her finger on her lip, she began to whisper, ‘Keep still, Polly! Keep still!’

“At Mr. G.’s funeral, the clergyman, who was an Episcopalian, read with great solemnity the funeral service.

“The strangeness of the scene, the great concourse of people, and the sound of weeping, so interested Polly that she did not utter a word; but no sooner had the family returned from the grave than she began to utter sounds in sentences so nearly like what she had heard at the funeral, that it was recognized at once as the service for the dead.

“I forgot to tell you that, having been in the habit of hearing the children when they repeated the Lord’s prayer, she had long ago learned it, and never went to sleep on her perch without uttering the words with apparent solemnity.

“After the funeral, whenever a number of persons were assembled and began to talk in a mournful tone, Polly always seemed to think this a proper occasion to repeat her funeral service, often occupying an hour in the recital. There were no distinct words; but the sentences were so similar in length, and the tone so exactly that of the clergyman, that many persons recognized it without being told who the parrot wished to imitate.”

“I think Polly is the very best parrot I ever knew,” exclaimed Minnie. “I wish Mrs. G. would bring her here. I wonder what Poll would say to her.”

“Mrs. G.’s bird is dead, my dear; and a sad death it was too. I will tell you about it. After her husband’s decease, my friend had a little Blenheim spaniel presented her—a beautiful creature, with long white hair like satin, and salmon ears. She was naturally fond of pets, and soon became greatly attached to the dog, who returned her affection with all his heart. As soon as she entered the room, he ran joyfully to meet her, licking her hands, and showing his pleasure in every possible way.

“For some days she noticed that the bird seemed dull, and talked very little; yet she did not connect it with the fact of her attention to the dog. But at last as Polly refused to eat, and seemed uneasy when the spaniel was present, she was convinced that the bird was jealous. Every means was tried to reconcile the old friend to the new one, but in vain. Polly knew that children must of course be loved and cared for. She herself loved the children of her mistress; but she could not endure that any other favorite should divide the affection she had so long enjoyed. From this time she drooped; and upon consulting a physician, he said she had every symptom of consumption. Her feet swelled, and at last she died on my friend’s breast, seeming ‘happy in being allowed to die in the arms of one she so dearly loved.’”A few weeks later, Mrs. Lee invited a small party of friends to take tea at her house. They were all seated in the parlor, and Poll, who was out of her cage, perched on the back of a chair in the next room, and listened with the greatest curiosity to the hum of so many voices.

Presently one of the ladies related a precious bit of scandal then running through the town. She had scarcely finished her narration, when a shrill exclamation,—

“Possible!” in a tone of incredulity, came through the open doors.

The relator blushed deeply, but went on to prove that her statement must be true, while Mrs. Lee was so much amused, she was obliged to make a great effort to keep from laughing.

Again, as soon as the lady ceased, the exclamation,—

“Possible!” was repeated, as if in greater doubt.

This was too much of an insult, and the lady’s face kindled with anger.

Mrs. Lee quietly arose, saying, “Poll must come in and make her own apology for her rudeness;” and soon returned with the parrot clinging to her finger.

“Poll has a bad habit of interrupting conversation,” she said, playfully, “especially when she wishes to be invited to join the company, as at present.”

“Could that sound come from a bird?” inquired the lady; “I certainly thought it was a human voice.”

Many of the company tried to make Poll talk, but she declined for the present. After a while, however, when some witty remark was made which caused a general laugh, Poll laughed too, both loud and long, and then, as if perfectly exhausted with so much emotion, exclaimed,—

“Oh, dear! Oh, dear me!”

Two or three of the company had been invited to bring their children, and just at this time Minnie returned with her young friends, having introduced them to Jacko and her other pets.

The little girls gathered eagerly around Mrs. Lee, begging her to make Poll talk to them.“Perhaps you would like to play a game of hide-and-seek with her,” cried Minnie; “she plays that real nice.”

“Yes, oh, yes indeed!” was the united response.

“Come, Poll,” called Minnie, extending her finger.

The parrot went at first with seeming reluctance, but presently entered into the spirit of the play, running after the children around the tables and chairs, laughing as merrily as any of them, and every once in a while repeating that curious “Oh, dear! Oh, dear me!” as if quite worn out.

Minnie then called the little girls into the next room, shutting the door behind them, when Poll, putting her head down close to the crack, seemed trying to listen to what they said. She well understood the game, however, for she presently called, “Whoop,” and then hid behind the door, to catch them when they came along, crying out, as she did so, “Ah, you little rogue!”

After this, she laughed so heartily that none could help joining her,—certainly the ladies could not; but all agreed she knew altogether too much for a bird, and was the most wonderful parrot they had ever seen.