THE
COCKATOO'S STORY.
By
MRS. GEORGE CUPPLES.
WITH 12 ILLUSTRATIONS.
London:
T. NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW.
EDINBURGH; AND NEW YORK.
1881.
THE COCKATOO'S STORY.
begin to be ashamed of myself—I really do," said a white cockatoo,as he sat on his perch one day. Then he gave himself a good shake, andafter walking up and down once or twice, he continued, "I think it vexesthe boy, and I can see he means to be kind. And, oh dear, dear! I seenow I brought the troubles on myself."
"Kind!" screamed a small gray parrot from a perch on the opposite side;[Pg 8]"of course he means to be kind. You won't often meet a kinder; let metell you that, sir. If I could only get this chain off my foot, I'd comeover and give you as good a pecking as ever you got in your life, yousulky, ungrateful bird you! And then Master Herbert stands, day afterday, trying to tempt you with the daintiest morsels, and there you sitand sulk, or take it with your face turned from him, when hunger forcesyou."
"There is no need to be so angry, old lady," replied the cockatoo."Didn't you hear me say, I begin to be ashamed of myself? But if youonly knew how I have been used, you would not wonder at my sulks."
"Oh, if you have a foundation for your conduct, then I'll be happy toretract," said Mrs. Polly, walking about her perch very fast indeed, and[Pg 9]ruffling up her feathers as she walked. "No bird I ever had thepleasure of living beside could say I was unreasonable; so please stateyour case, state your case—I'm all attention, at-ten-tion;" and shelengthened out the last word with a shrill scream peculiar to parrots.
"But it would take ever so long to tell," said the cockatoo, "and myfeelings or my nerves have got the better of me at this moment, and Ireally couldn't; only if you heard my history you would think it verywonderful indeed;" and here Mr. Cockatoo lifted up his foot andscratched his eye.
"A history, did you say?" said the gray parrot, pausing in her walkalong her perch, and looking at him over her back. "Pray, how old areyou, may I ask?"
"Well, I'll be about two years old," said the cockatoo, straightening[Pg 10]himself up, and looking over to the gray parrot, as if he expected thenews would surprise her greatly.
"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Mrs. Polly; "two years old, and has a history! Ohdear! my old sides will split. What a youth he is, to be sure, ha, ha,ha!"
"I don't see anything to laugh at," said the poor cockatoo, collapsinginto his sulky state once more. "I tell you I have a history, and awonderful history too. I wish you would stop that chatter."
"Boy, boy, you'll be the death of me," said Mrs. Polly, not in her ownlanguage, but in the words taught her by Master Herbert.
"Oh, if you are going to speak in the language used by these abominablepeople who