The Cockatoos Story | Page 8

away to the shrubbery; and how I should rejoice to plunge in that little pond where you have your gold-fish."
"Now, I should like to give you your heart's desire, Cockatoo; but if I set you at liberty in this country you would die. We have no orange, lemon, or coffee trees in our garden; and though we have apples and pears in plenty, you could not stand the long cold nights. But I'll tell you what I will do: if you will make a promise not to fly far, and to return to your cage when I call you, I shall let you free to fly about in the shrubbery; and you can bathe in the pond, if you do not harm the fish."
"Oh, thank you, Master Herbert," cried the cockatoo. "I'll come back at a moment's notice,--I really will."
"Mee-a-ow, mew," cried Polly, imitating the cry of a cat. "Beware of Miss Puss."
"You're right, Polly; that is very amiable of you," said Herbert. "Now, here goes, Cockatoo, and I shall expect you to report yourself, as uncle might say, in an hour's time." With that he opened the cage door, and with a glad scream away flew the cockatoo.
"I don't know if I have done right or not, Polly," said Herbert. "I hope he will return, else my uncle will be very angry. He thought Cockatoo was the finest bird he had ever seen of the kind. Come now, Polly, you promised to tell me your history after Cockatoo had told his."
"Oh no, sir, I made no promise," said Mrs. Polly, walking up and down the perch very fast, turning at each end with a graceful and coquettish air. "After such a wonderful story as we have heard, it would quite spoil it to listen to such an old, humdrum affair as mine."
[Illustration: FREEDOM FOR AN HOUR.
Page 56.]
"Now, Polly, don't be cross," said Herbert; "the fairy must have fancied you could tell a good thing, else she wouldn't have said what she did."
"Oh, she had no idea I could tell a story," said Polly; "she only meant that, considering my great age, I ought to be able to give you a word of good advice. She only said it out of politeness."
"A fairy would be sure to know all about you," said Herbert, "and would never say what she didn't mean."
"Ah, there's more than fairies do that," said Polly, pausing to shake her head. "I once knew a little boy who said to his cousin, 'Oh, I hope your mamma will let you come again on Saturday;' and then, when his cousin was out of hearing, he turned and said, 'I hope he won't get leave to come, he's such a cross-patch.'"
"O Polly, what a sly rogue you are! I see I shall have to be careful what I say before you," said Herbert.
"I hate deceit," said Polly. "Ah, I knew a man who was well punished for a fine trick he played; and about a bird of my species, too."
"Do tell it me, Polly, there's a dear," said Herbert.
"Well, I was once the favourite Polly of an old bird-stuffer," said Mrs. Polly; "and great pains he took to teach me many songs and words of your language, and very proud he was when I managed to say them. He was so very fond of me, that after I had gone to bed, with my head on my back, he would creep downstairs and repeat the words he had been dinning into my ears all day; and just to get rid of him, more than to please him, I used to say them correctly, and so off he would go to bed as pleased as possible. One day a gentleman brought two birds to be stuffed, and I heard him say they were trogons. Now, they are very rare birds; and after the gentleman went away, my master exclaimed, 'I have long been wanting a bird of this kind. I think I could manage to make one to myself out of some of the feathers!'
"Now, the very night before, my master had come down with his red night-cap on his head to teach me to say, 'Honesty is the best policy;' because he wanted me to call out to the servant-maid, 'Who stole the tea?' and finish off with the other as a warning. So I said under my breath, but loud enough for him to hear, 'Honesty, sir, is the best----;' and then screamed out, 'Who stole the----? Oh, fie for shame!'
"You should have seen how he started, Master Herbert; but he went on with his wicked intentions, and actually kept back every third feather, making a bird to resemble a trogon out of them. When he tried to get me to say that about honesty, I never would