I spent a day at his house and had many funny talks with Poll; parrots can talk after a fashion.

She was a fine lady, not so large as some you may have seen at the New Orleans Exposition. Some of them were from two to three feet long. One was perfectly green; another, white; a third, nearly all bright colors.

The one I saw in Cincinnati was fond of her friends, but sulky and cross to me, a stranger.

She had learned many wicked words from passers-by, swearing words even. When she could not have her own way and, like other folks, was out of humor, she would "let fly" her worst opinions of people and things in her bad language.

At such times she did not seem so beautiful with all her gay plumage. Few folks do appear well when out of sorts, no matter how rich and fashionable their clothes. Remember that.

In the picture you see a parrot sitting upon a perch. It is another one and there is a long story about it. But all stories can't be put into The Pansy without bursting its covers. However, you may hear a little about this one and think out the rest when your thinkers get time.

This Pol came from a distant land. She had such rich feathers, and could talk and sing so well, and, withal, her manners and behavior were so correct that she made friends of everybody.

So in due time Pol was treated like one of the family and as one of the first ladies in society—so far as a parrot could be. Her bread and drink and bed were all any bird could wish. She had the freedom of the house. Without asking, she could go up stairs or down, out door, into the barn, to the top of the highest trees, sometimes to the neighbors. She always came home at meal and bed time. Every one, nearly, knew her and treated her politely. Thus she forgot her far-away relations and became happy "as happy can be." She was now a maiden lady of sixty years. Some parrots live to be one hundred. Pol's life had been pleasant as a June morning. But June doesn't last forever. Trouble came.

One day she went out to call and was quietly walking home. A bad boy met her and made some provoking remarks. Instead of paying no attention to such creatures and going right on her way, she stopped, listened, lost her temper and "sauced him back." Then what should the fellow do but strike Pol and tear out some of her finest feathers and, leaving her half-dead, went his way. Pol managed to drag herself home, and, as best she could, tell what had happened.

How grieved they all were and wondered who could have treated her so cruelly. They suspected who had done it; for that boy was given to such things. Some seem to delight in giving pain to animals. I need not say what was done to that hateful boy. He deserved punishment and received it. But Poor Pol, what of her? She was tenderly washed and coaxed to eat and tell more about it. Her appetite left her in spite of all that could be done and she became sad and silent and wished to retire to bed.

It was hoped that she would feel better in the morning; but when morning came, there she sat, her wings drooping and her eyes cast down like one that is passing through great sorrow.

Near by lived a lad by the name of Eddie Landseer. He thought the world of Pol. As soon as he heard of her misfortune he came running in with a playmate, a bright little girl, to see what they could do for their afflicted neighbor.

Eddie was a great lover of horses, dogs, birds and almost all animals. Some say that when he went into the woods he would always carry something good for animals to eat and he would somehow call the squirrels and birds down around him from the trees. They would come and eat from his hands and let him handle them as tame animals do. He really seemed to know just how some animals feel and to cheer them in trouble. He took pains to study them as you do your Sunday-school lesson. So in he came with a most dainty dish for Pol.

He and his little friend were prettily dressed, not to show themselves, but to please Pol, for Eddie believed that she had an eye for beautiful clothes like her own. But when he saw Pol, how sad her countenance was and how she mourned over her lost feathers, he and Bertha could hardly keep back their tears.

However, they put on cheerful faces and sang so sweetly and begged so hard Pol actually got out of bed, arranged her feathers neatly, talking away as though nothing had happened.

Now, what if I should tell you that this Eddie became a great painter of animals! When he was but five years old he could draw pretty good pictures of cows and pigs; at eighteen he made that famous picture "Dogs of St. Gothard rescuing Travellers." Queen Victoria was so pleased with it she put honor upon his name and everywhere he was called Sir Edwin Landseer.

Some day you may see his famous picture "Peace and War." Ten years ago was seen in Philadelphia his wonderful painting "The Sick Monkey." Many people would stop a long while looking at it; the mother monkey had the sick one in her arms. The poor thing seemed ready to cry, while all the other monkeys looked at the sick one with such sad eyes. It is said no artist has done so much to teach us how to love animals.

Did you ever hear of Mr. Henry Bergh? He has spent many years writing, speaking and pleading with law-makers to pass laws to protect animals from cruelty. I suppose if the horses of New York City, where he lives, could speak, they would all daily shout to him as they see him on Broadway, Thank you, dear friend Bergh. No living man has ever cared so much for our race as you have."

If they knew how, they would surely shake hands with him, and when he comes to die build a grand monument to his memory. It would seem as though God's love is in his heart. Jesus came to save the worst people, even those who nailed him to the cruel cross. Surely Jesus pitied the poor helpless animals. Not one sparrow falls to the ground without his notice. Try to be a friend to animals, won't you?

Oh! do you know, my dear Pansies, I am going West this summer? I can't tell you much about it until the summer is over and I am settled down again for winter work; but I mean to keep my eyes wide open on purpose for you. I shall be in Utah, I think, and in Kansas, and Wisconsin, and Nebraska, and I don't know just where, but you shall know all about it after I have been, and returned. Wide-open eyes; that is our motto for the summer. I know a great many of you are going away, to the seaside, to the mountains, to Chautauqua, to Europe, where not? Will you be selfish, dwarfed-up little Pansies, keeping all your delights of travel to yourselves, or will you keep diaries of all the interesting things you see, and hear, and learn, and write beautiful letters for the stay-at-homes? Why not? Let us join hands and see how much we can use our eyes and ears for others during the long bright summer.

Louie from New York. My dear, I hope The Pansy came in time for the "little brother's birthday." We made all possible speed. Yes, Faye Huntington is to continue her work for The Pansy during another year. I am glad you love her. So do I. Please give my kind regards to your mamma, whom I remember very well.

Mamie from Connecticut. You dear little Blossom! I am glad you have not choked yourself with pins before you took your pledge! I presume you think you never would have done so; but do you really suppose there was ever a person who choked to death with a pin, on purpose? Yet there have been deaths caused in just that way. Your mother will be glad that you have resolved to give up so foolish and dangerous a habit.

Emily from Maryland. Your pledge commences with the right sentence, my friend. One who honestly trusts in His help, is sure to succeed. I think you will find it helpful if you will study His life on earth, and see how many proofs you can find of His perfect unselfishness.

Maria and Lucy from Missouri. Welcome, my little Missouri sisters. May you blossom luxuriantly in that sunny land. I hope the "temper" will grow as sweet as the Southern jessamine which I enjoyed so much in your South land last winter, and that the little fingers tempted to be "tardy" now, will quicken under the spell of the earnest pledge which has been taken.

Ward from Michigan. Glad to receive you, my boy. "I can't" is an enemy who has stolen many a grand action from boys and girls as well as from men and women. Did you ever notice also, that he generally speaks what is false? Nearly always "I can't" means "I don't want to," or a bold "I won't."

Ina from Iowa. Dear friend, do you know of what your pledge reminds me? Of a great many grown people who, though pledged to obey the Lord Jesus, forget to "mind" him so often, now that he is away. While you are carefully keeping your pledge to obey the dear mamma as well in her absence as when her eye is on you, will you sometimes think of Jesus, and his wish that we should remember always that his eye is on us?

May from Iowa. You are not alone in that fault. I know many people who can "remember" the faults of others, while seeming to be quite forgetful about their own. It is a good rule to remember nothing against any other person, unless we believe that Jesus Christ wants us to remember it, and speak of it, in order to help somebody else.

Otho from Iowa. Another little "high" temper. A temper is an excellent thing if it is of the right sort. It wants to be even; neither "high" nor "low." Try hard to make yours what in your honest little heart you think it ought to be. Remember your greatest help will be found in our Whisper Motto.

Roy from Michigan. My boy, I liked your letter ever so much. Do you know how much that is? Yes, I am sure you do. It is so full of suggestions for the other Pansies that I am going to copy some of it for them. It is a great thing to be able always to "speak pleasantly." What a power for good you will be in this cross world, if you keep your pledge. To be pleasant, when everything is going crooked, or at least seems to be, is a virtue which very few people have.

Arthur from Chicago. How is the "club" succeeding? I am more than willing that you should have an officer's badge if you earn it. What "kind acts" have you succeeded in doing since you took your pledge? Is there not some story growing out of them that you can tell us, and so help others?

Kitty from Vermont. Yes indeed, we want all the "kittens" of your sort that we can get hold of. Oh! I know all about the people who do not hang up their clothes. Aren't they troublesome, though! What a pleasant thing it will be to "mamma" to find all the dresses, and sacks, and hats and hoods in their places, after this! I should not wonder if the clothes-press did not know itself, and if the piano, and the table in the back hall, and the hat-rack in the corner should feel very lonesome, in the course of time. But a certain Pansy Badge will blush for joy!

Bertha from Connecticut. Glad you like the badge. And so glad to think the poor little fingers do not get "sucked" any more. Will you give my dear love to "aunt Katie," and kiss her very softly and sweetly for me? I know something about that precious "Shut in Band;" I used to have a dear friend who was a member of it. But the Master one day called her out, to do active work, and she has been in the field ever since.

Pearl from Indiana. Teeth are very important and much abused members of society, my dear Pearl. I hope yours will reward you for good care, by never aching a bit. By the way, little Pearl, I wonder if you know the fourth commandment? See if you can tell me why I wonder it.

Marion from Iowa. We welcome our new Western Blossom. It is astonishing to me how many of my Blossoms hate to shut their eyes when night comes! At least, they and "mamma" someway cannot agree as to the best time to do it. Now in a "truly" pansy bed, I have noticed that the Blossoms seem to be glad when night, and dew, and hush, tell them that the resting time has come. Can it be, do you suppose, that they, without souls, or brains, are more obedient to the Gardener's voice than little human blossoms succeed in being? Some people who are quick-witted are strongly tempted to "answer back," especially when they think of something which would be "just the thing" to say. I knew a wise man who said when he was a boy, he had to adopt the habit of counting ten before he answered a person in argument, because if he didn't, he was sure to say what he was sorry for afterwards. I have often thought if some people I know would "count ten" oftener, they would not say so many foolish and disagreeable things.

Frank from Ohio. Impatient, are you? Well, there is a wonderful promise for such as you in the Bible. See if you can find it. I haven't the least doubt but that you want to grow up a great man; and here is your opportunity.

Lillie from Connecticut. My dear, I earnestly hope the patience with which you waited has long before this been rewarded. They do seem to be very slow people in Boston, sometimes, but when there are so many "lilies," and roses, and pansies to be attended to all at once, how can they help it? We are glad to get your full name for enrollment. Are you also the secretary of your Band? If so, we shall hope for an account of your meetings. The Pansies like to know how the different members of their great army conduct their monthly meetings.

Lester from Ohio. My boy, we are glad that you are not only a subscriber, but a worker. "Teasing" is really a great nuisance. Between you and me, don't you really think so yourself? I asked a boy who is fond of doing disagreeable things "just for fun," whether he really thought he should like to have them done to him, and he opened his eyes wide, and said: "Why, of course not!" Yet it had not seemed to occur to him what a mean spirit he confessed in that very sentence. I am very glad to receive your pledge.

Jennie from Connecticut. I shall want to hear all about the bed-quilt when it is done. I am acquainted with a society of girls who made a beautiful album quilt not long ago. The blocks were of silk, given by the ladies of the church. The young girls did the work, very nicely, and allowed their lady and gentleman friends to write their names in the centre blocks, for ten cents each. The money thus secured they sent toward the support of their little adopted girl in Alaska, and the quilt they sent for a Christmas present to their minister's wife, who was away from home, sick, and lonely. The names on the blocks were those of her friends in whom she was much interested, and many of the pieces of silk were well known to her, and gave her pleasant thoughts of the original givers; so the work was a comfort and a help all around. "Besides," said one of the girls, "we learned to sew beautifully, that winter. Mrs. F. would accept nothing but the very nicest stitches." A great many people "forget" what they ought to remember. I am glad you have left their ranks.

Ray from Colorado. What a rich boy you are to have so much company in your own home! Also, what a good boy you must try to be, when you have so many who will be sure to follow your example. It is a good thing you have taken a pledge not to "speak cross" any more. If the twins should learn such things from you, how sad it would be!

Minnie and Floy from Wisconsin. My dear little friends, it will be a great victory when you learn not to be impatient over anything, and to be pleasant when you feel cross! Oh yes, you can even do such hard things as those. But let me remind you that you will need the help of the Whisper Motto every hour of the day. I am glad the birthday present was a Bible. I think you must both of you study it a little, and try to follow it, else you would hardly have such good reports from school. By the way, I must tell you a story about my Bible. It was given me when I was eight years old. On Sunday, in church, the sermon was long, and I grew very tired, so I thought I would put something on the fly leaf of my new Bible which would be very appropriate, and which would not be wrong to write on Sunday. I worked away at it, and produced in my best style, these lines:

Lizzie from Kansas. So they "bite their finger nails" in Kansas, as well as everywhere else! Before our P. S. was organized I had not the least idea that fingers were so cruelly treated. What a pleasure it is to me to think that so many of them have peace now. We are glad to welcome you to our roll.

Susy from Elyria. There! I forgot to put the "a" in, after Susy. Well, I suppose you are called "Susy Sunbeam." I think that is a lovely name. It shows there must be a good deal of sunshine in your life. I know a young lady whose face is always so bright and happy that her home friends call her "Sunny," and I have often thought she might be proud of the pet name. I am glad you like "Grandpa's Darlings." It is a true book. The dear grandpa was my very own blessed father; and the children, Minie and Grace, were my pet nieces. Grace is now a young lady and lives in the same house with me, and works all day with her pencils and her paints, learning to be an artist. As for Minie, I don't know what she does all the long bright days. She was called years ago, to her Father's palace; for she is the daughter of a great King. We do not hear from her; but we know much about the beautiful home where she lives, and we are all looking forward to going there, some day, to be with her, for the King has promised to send for us—all. More than that, he has invited any one to come who would like to do so. Will you go?

Ella from New York. I do wonder what there is about a piano which should nearly always make young people impatient? Do you suppose the fault is in the instrument? I have sometimes thought that if such is the case, they ought to go out of fashion. But perhaps the little Pansy Badge will be too much for yours. Let me hear how you succeed.

Clara from Iowa. I hope you received the autograph safely, my dear, and that you like the picture. "Cack" is certainly a very original nom de plume. What do you write? I once had a little friend who called on me to ask how she should finish her book! She said she knew how to begin it, and how to make it very long, but it would not end! I think a great many people are troubled in that way. Don't you?