CHAPTER II.
THE PARROT AND THE TRAVELLER
One morning when the whole family were in the breakfast room, Poll began to talk to herself, imitating exactly the manner of a lady who had recently visited the house with her children.
“Little darling beauty, so she is; she shall have on her pretty new bonnet, and go ridy, ridy with mamma; so she shall.”
In the midst of this, the bird stopped and began to cry like an impatient child.
“Don’t cry, sweet,” she went on, changing her voice again; “there, there, pet, don’t cry; hush up, hush up.”
This conversation she carried on in the most approved baby style, until, becoming excited by the laughter of the company, she stopped, and began to laugh too.
After this, whenever she wanted to be very cunning, she would repeat this performance, much to the amusement of all who heard her.
Poll was a very mischievous bird, and on this account was not let out of her cage, unless Minnie or some one was at liberty to watch her.
Mrs. Lee, who usually sat in the back parlor, from which place she could hear Poll talk, was sure to know if the bird was doing any great mischief, for she always began to scold herself on such occasions.
“Ah, ah!” she exclaimed, one day; “what are you about, Poll?”
Mrs. Lee rose quickly, and advanced on tiptoe to the door, where she saw the parrot picking at some buttons on the sofa, which she had often been forbidden to touch. Much amused at the sight, she listened to an imitation of her own voice, as follows: —
“Go away, I tell you, Poll! I see you! Take care!”
Finding her buttons fast disappearing, she suddenly entered, when the bird went quickly back to her perch.
In the afternoon, when her husband returned from town, she related the incident to him and to Minnie.
“That shows us,” answered the gentleman, laughing, “how careful we ought to be what we say before her; we shall be sure to hear it again.”
After tea, when Minnie and her father were in the library, they heard Poll singing a variety of tunes in her merriest tones. They stopped talking a while to listen, and then both laughed heartily to see how quickly she struck into a whistle, as Tiney walked deliberately into the room in search of her little mistress.
“What a funny bird she is!” cried Minnie; “she runs on so from one thing to another.”
“In that respect she shows a want of judgment,” replied her father; “but, by the way, I have a story for you of a curious parrot, which I will read.
“A gentleman who had been visiting a friend near the sea shore, and concluded to return by way of a ferry boat, walked to the beach to see whether there was one ready to start. As he stood looking over the water, much disappointed that there was none in sight, he was surprised to hear the loud cry of the boatman, —
“‘Over, master? Going over?’
“‘Yes, I wish to go,’ he answered, looking eagerly about.
“‘Over, master? Going over?’ was asked again in a more earnest tone; and again he repeated, —
“‘Yes, I wish to go as soon as possible.’
“The questions were repeated constantly, and yet no preparation was made for granting his request. He began to be somewhat indignant, and seeing no one near upon whom he could vent his wrath, he walked rapidly toward a public house near by. Here his anger was speedily changed to mirth, for on going near the door he saw a parrot hanging in a cage over the porch, from whom all the noise had proceeded.”
“Oh, father,” exclaimed Minnie, greatly delighted, “that was a real good story. Isn’t there another one?”
“Yes; here is one where a man made his bird revenge his insults.
“There was once a distiller who had long suffered in his business by a neighbor, who had several times reported him to the public authorities as one who made and sold rum without a license to do so. At last he became very angry at being interfered with, and, as no ready means offered to revenge himself, he adopted the following singular method.
“He had a large green parrot, which could speak almost any thing. This parrot he taught to repeat, in a clear, loud, and distinct voice, the ninth commandment, – ‘Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.’
“Having committed this lesson satisfactorily, the owner of the parrot hung him outside one of the front windows of the house, where his troublesome neighbor, who lived directly opposite, would be able to have the full benefit of the inspired words.
“The first time the neighbor came in sight, the parrot began, ‘Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor;’ and this was repeated on every occasion, to the great delight of the neighborhood.”
At this moment, Mrs. Lee opened the door, to tell Minnie that Anne, the nurse, was waiting to put her to bed.
“It’s too early,” began the child, impatiently; “I don’t want to go yet.”
Her mother only answered by pointing to the little French timepiece on the mantel.
“I was having such a good time,” sobbed Minnie; “I always have to go just when I’m enjoying myself the most.”
Hearing this, Poll instantly began to whine, “I don’t want to go,” and then, putting her claw up to her mouth, sobbed, for all the world, just like her little mistress.
Minnie wanted to laugh, but she felt ashamed, and did not like to have her parents see her; so she said, “Keep still, Poll; you’ve nothing to do with it.”
This reproof only excited the bird the more, and in a loud, angry tone, she went on, —
“Keep, still, Poll! don’t meddle! don’t meddle! Ah, Poll, what are you about? Take care; I see you!”
Mr. Lee watched his daughter anxiously, to see whether she would recover her temper, and was pleased to observe that she presently advanced to the cage, when she held out her finger to say “Good night” to her pet, as usual.
“Good night; say your prayers,” repeated the bird, holding out her claw.
She then gave her parents their good-night kiss, and snatching Tiney in her arms, went gayly from the room.
CHAPTER III.
POLL’S FUNNY TRICKS
In summer, Poll lived mostly out of doors, hung in a cage at the top of the piazza. Here she seemed very much amused at the various operations she witnessed.
In the morning, she was placed in front of the house on account of the shade; but after dinner, the cage was carried round to a porch, where the shed and barn were in full view.
From the front porch, she could salute all the early visitors, and watch the butcher’s cart as it passed, often startling him with the inquiry, —
“What have you to-day?” Then, if no one answered, she would quickly reply, “Veal,” or, “Only veal to-day.”
But her greatest amusement was to watch a family of children, who lived nearly opposite. There was one child just commencing to go to school – a duty which he disliked exceedingly.
As soon as Poll saw him she would begin, “You must go, or you’ll grow up a dunce.”
Then she would whine, and cry, “I won’t go, I say I won’t.”
“Go right along, you naughty boy, or I shall tell your father.”
Poll now begins to sob and sniffle in earnest, when she suddenly stops and begins the whole conversation over again, greatly to the merriment of her hearers.
There is, however, one trick that Poll has learned, which is quite inconvenient.
Near Mr. Lee’s house, the ground rises, his residence being on a hill. Teams loaded with coal, and other heavy articles, continually pass by, it being of course quite an object with the drivers to get the horses to the top of the hill without stopping on the way.
But this would spoil Miss Poll’s fun. When they are about half way up, and just in the steepest part, she calls out, “Whoa,” in a loud, authoritative voice, so exactly in imitation of the driver that they obey at once. This she repeats as often as he attempts to start them forward, until, greatly vexed, I am sorry to say, he sometimes swears at both the horses and the bird.
Nor is this all. When the teams have reached the top of the hill, and the driver wishes to let them stop and breathe, Poll begins to cluck for them to go on, and will not let them rest until they are out of her sight, when she begins a hearty laugh over her own joke. In the mean time, the driver frets and fumes, and wishes that bird had the driving of those horses for once.
Poll has formed quite an acquaintance with most of the children of the neighborhood. At one time, there was a great excitement among the boys in regard to a company of soldiers they were forming. On Wednesday and Saturday afternoons, they marched up and down the street, past Mr. Lee’s, beating a drum, and singing, “Rub-a-dub, dub! rub-a-dub, dub! Hurrah, hurrah!” As soon as they were out of hearing, Poll began the story, and went through the drill with great glee.
From the back porch, Poll witnessed the grooming of the horses, when, as was often the case, they were taken out for Mrs. Lee and Minnie to ride. Indeed, she did her best, as far as words could go, to assist in the operation. While the harness was being put on, she continually called out, “Back, sir! Stand still! What are you about there?” This was often done, greatly to the discomfiture of the hostler, who was obliged generally to countermand these orders.
I have told you that Poll was very fond of her friends, and jealous of their affection. She was also very strong in her dislikes. There was one member of the family whom she could not endure, and she took every occasion to vent her spite against him. This was the colored boy who blacked the boots, scoured the knives, and ran errands.