"'Ein Kuss--_sans façon_.'
The latter version seemed to amuse him so much that he would burst into
loud laughter. 'Polly, what does Lottie say?' he would sometimes ask
himself, and answer immediately, as though some one else had put the
question, 'Oh, my beautiful, beautiful little parrot; come and kiss me.'
And this he would utter with the exact tone of endearment used by Lottie.
He expressed his conceit by saying, 'Ah, how beautiful I am!' at the same
time stroking his beak with his foot, though he was by no means handsome,
for he had the ugly trick of pulling out his feathers. On this account he
was ordered wine baths, which were administered to him by the help of a
watering can. These baths were most disagreeable to him, and as soon as
he saw preparations being made he would beg imploringly, 'Please don't
make me wet! Poor little parrot! Please don't wet me!'
"He could not bear strangers, and those who came to see him, and wanted
to hear him speak, only attained their wishes by hiding themselves. In
their presence he was as quiet as a mouse, but chattered incessantly when
visitors were out of sight, as though he wanted to indemnify himself for
the restraint he had been under. There were people, however, who managed
to gain his affections, and he would talk with them when they came, and
used even to crack his jokes about them. A fat major, with whom he was
well acquainted, was trying one day to teach him a new trick. 'Get upon
the stick, parrot; get upon the stick!' commanded the soldier. But Polly
seemed sulky. All at once, the bird burst into a loud laugh, and said,
'Get upon the stick, major; get upon the stick!' Another friend of his
had not come to the house for some time. The visitor had been talked
about, and it was expected that 'Roth,' as he was called, would make his
appearance on a certain day. 'Here comes Roth,' said the bird, suddenly,
as he saw him approaching through the window, and recognised him from
some distance.
"This poor parrot came to an unlucky end; it was given as a present to
a relation of its master, who had become superannuated, and had taken a
childish fancy to the bird. But it could not endure the parting from all
it loved, and died in the course of a few days."
We could tell of many grey parrots that have been brought to great
perfection in the art of speaking, but the preceding anecdotes combine
all that these birds have been known to do, so we will only observe
that their wonderful memory and powers of mimicry have sometimes their
disadvantages. Their first teachers are usually sailors, and it may,
therefore, be easily imagined that their vocabulary is neither choice nor
elegant; unluckily, the best educated birds will often remember these old
lessons, and intermix the lowest and commonest words with their pretty
phrases and speeches. The parrot can reproduce any peculiar sound with
as much ease as it learns words, and will imitate the creaking of a
neighbouring door, the barking of a dog, the mewing of a cat, or even an
old man's cough.
Mr. Wood tells us that a friend of his had a parrot of this species,
which proved herself a most tender and affectionate guardian. In a hedge
of roses near its owner's house, a pair of finches had built their nest,
and were regularly fed by the family, who were much attached to all kinds
of pet animals. The numerous visitors to the rose hedge attracted Polly's
attention, and, seeing the food they gave strewed around, she determined
to emulate their good example. Being allowed to fly about, she left her
cage, imitated the cry of the old finches, and gave the nestlings a part
of her food; but these expressions of sympathy did not please the parent
birds, who at once deserted their young from fear of the large stranger,
so that Polly saw the little ones thus become orphans, and a fine field
opened for her fostering care. From that hour she refused to return to
her cage, and remained day and night near her adopted children, whom
she fed with the greatest assiduity, and had the pleasure of rearing
successfully. When the little ones were fledged they used to perch upon
the head and neck of their foster-mother, who bore the burden with
exemplary care; the parrot, however, received but small thanks, for her
young charges had no sooner wings strong enough to bear them than they
flew away. Poor Polly was for some time in bitter distress, but at length
found consolation for her motherly feelings in the discovery of some
deserted hedge sparrows; these she conveyed to her cage, where they were
soon on the best terms with their adopted parent.
* * * * *
Many American varieties of the Short-tails, usually called GREEN PARROTS
(_Chrysotis_), differ from their African congeners, the Jakos, in their
prevailing green colour, and in the small size of the bare parts around
the eyes. Their body is compact, the beak strongly bent, the tail short,
broad, and somewhat rounded; the wings broad, and strongly formed,
reaching nearly to the middle of the tail; the legs are strong, thick,
and fleshy; the feet powerful, and armed with strong claws, the plumage
lies close and thick, the feathers being small and imbricated. Two
species of this family are especially well known to us, the Green and the
Amazon. They are both large birds, of fourteen inches long, and about
twenty-one to twenty-three across the wings; the tail measures from four
inches to four inches and two-thirds; and the wing, from the shoulder to
the tip, seven inches.