POLL AT THE PARTY.
"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.