bird I took little or no notice; and it was only when brought into my room to show how familiar she had become, that I paid any attention to her upbringing. I did not feed her, nor did I afterwards, during nearly two months, attach her to myself by giving her aught to eat more than three or four times. I learned, however, that she was omnivorous, and fed "promiscuously" on paste, worms, ham, jam, bread-crumbs, or what-not-whatever was going, and was not rejected as a matter of taste. This was ascertained by picking up the offered morsel by the extreme point of the bill, and either throwing it away at once, if disliked, or bringing it into the mouth to be swallowed. I had no idea that the perception of taste could reside in the very point of the beak. Day by day her confidence in her two young mistresses gathered strength. She flew about them, and would alight upon their laps to be caressed or fed, and by-and-by upon their shoulders, to help herself to crumbs of bread or meat from between their lips. She was quite free to come or to go as she pleased within doors, but at length seized an opportunity to fly out. Of course, she was given up for lost; and the gratification may be imagined when it was found that she not only retained her tameness as she flitted about the laurel-hedges and garden-walks, but, as evening fell, returned to her old quarters, just as fowls do to roost. Now she went out every morning, flying back perhaps half-a-dozen times during the day (and especially when she caught sight of her friends at door or window), to be fed, and frequently asking for it by a sharp note of "chirk! chirk!" altogether different from any other utterance, whether semi-musical or mere sound. My first personal intercourse arose with her in this way. I went to dig a few worms for her, and whilst stooping, was startled by her darting out of a bush unseen and alighting on my back. After that we became more intimate, and when she chose, she would fly voluntarily into my study, perch on my desk, and nibble at my blotting-paper, or pen, as fancy prompted. As an

occasional caller, I did not find her as great a bore as I have sometimes found creatures without feathers when I wished to be busy; she never stopped too long. It was curious how soon she adopted an accidentally-broken pane in a staircase window as the usual route for entrance and egress; she seemed to prefer it to the open window or door below. In my endeavour to account for her observable predilections, I could only attribute this choice to the circumstance that there was never any let or hindrance to interfere with her purpose; and by this explanation the act was brought within the scope of my argument in favour of perfect liberty in the rearing. As I said, I have never offended her amour propre; I have never consciously wounded her feelings; I have never put on annoying control. That is to say, though I have neither pampered nor coaxed, I have not detained her when she wished to go; I have not restrained her when she wanted to be free; I have pressed nothing upon her which she appeared to dislike. Her tameness, however, was brought about by the tender female agency I have mentioned, and it is chiefly through that constant attention that she acquired so many and such remarkable social habits. If we walked in the garden she would flit in and out of the trees and hedges, as if in play with us, occasionally accepting a morsel as we passed along. The postman declares that she came into the passage to take letters from him. But there was one exhibition nearly as strange and not less pleasing. A pretty child visitor, a girl of four years old, was so heartily adopted as a playmate by Molly, that she would perch herself on Tina's little head; and it was extremely interesting to witness the delighted crest-bearer moving about (like an Oriental maiden balancing her waterpitcher)—a picture which photography must have been charmed to copy.

The next phase in our progress occurred in Molly's not coming home she stayed out all night. Farewell? Nothing of the kind!

With sunrise she was back again, and admitted to her patronesses by their bedroom window. This went on ten days or more, whenever she slept in the garden (which was not regularly the case); and the window was always left open, so that she could come in with her "chirk! chirk!" hop on to their pillow or their heads, pick her breakfast out of their mouths, and when she could keep them awake no longer, nestle down between their faces and go to sleep too, on the pillow. All this while, during the month of June, "Come along, sweet!" rarely failed to bring her to hand; and, considering the species to be rather shy, I confess to becoming very much interested about the issue of the adventure. Well, another month-July-passed, and thus stands my ornithological affair of the heart. Gradually my pet's estrangements were longer continued. She would fly in very often, rest a minute on some convenient balustrade or ledge; and be off again without using any familiarity, or tasting provender. One morning she came to the poultry-yard with a handsome male associate; and when disturbed among the chicks, the dark, glossy fellow fled with a screech; she remained to finish her meal with the fowls. Now she may be described as timid; something like the robin, keeping near about the cottage, and hardly avoiding us beyond a short flight, but never coming very close. A beautiful supply of cherries had probably some effect in teaching her to provide for herself, and she is as independent as her wild mate. Still she seems to court some intercourse, and makes herself frequently be seen when least expected.

None of my country neighbours have ever known a blackbird reclaimed to such an extent, or, I should rather say, pursue such a course as if perfectly natural. I shall only add that her eye was bright, and her glance peculiarly intelligent-there is much to observe in the looks of animals. The last I interchanged with Molly, as she coquetted with a bunch of mountain-ash berries over

my head, has fed me with a hope that if she continues somewhat as she now is till the winter frosts come on, we shall have her again as a household visitor and most cherished pet.

66

PARROT STORIES.

I HAD at one time a large green parrot, that spoke with the exact inflexions of the human voice; and so apt were its remarks, that frequently it seemed to answer questions as well as put them. The moment any person, especially a stranger, entered the room where she was, she inquired, "Who are you? who are you?" and would not desist until she got an answer; the next question being invariably, "What do you want?" which being responded to, her general reply was, "Go to pot!"-not a very elegant direction. One day I came into the room, and, not taking any notice of her, she as usual asked, "Who are you?" "Tom Thumb," I replied. "O-h"! said Poll, with quite a horrified intonation, as though she was shocked at having detected me in such a falsehood. If her cage was put in the balcony outside the window, her call of "Cab! cab wanted!" brought them sometimes from every direction, the drivers looking round in surprise, unable to discover who had called them so vociferously. We had a very ugly cook, and the moment this woman made her appearance, Poll commenced in a mocking tone, "Pretty cook! oh, pretty cook!" ending with peals of laughter, that it was almost impossible not to join in-the injured air of the irate cook adding to the ludicrousness of the scene. Poll's language to herself was most amusing. If she thought she was not noticed sufficiently, she would commence in a pathetic tone, “Ah, Polly you dear bird, you poor, pretty bird; kiss the creature; kiss the poor bird;" then suddenly changing, she would

cry out indignantly, "Oh, you naughty bird! dirty Poll, fie, fie; you bad bird; this bad bird wants sugar; come and kiss Polly, pretty Polly, pretty Polly Hopkins." At which point she generally sang this once popular song quite through, giving the time perfectly, but sometimes making most absurd breaks in the words; for instance, she would sing "Pretty, pretty Polly Hop," and then remain silent for awhile, or perhaps repeat "Hop" three or four times sotto voce, as if revolving in her mind, when "kins" would be jerked out, and the song proceeded with. If the servant was leaving the room, she always called after him, "Don't forget to shut the door." She imitated every sound of the children's voices accurately—every laugh and every cry; and, having made as much noise as she could so doing, she would call out, "Go to bed, you noisy children, go to bed, and give us peace." Her greatest delight was to call the children or servants by name, imitating the voices of different members of the family; and on being answered, her laughter indicated how pleased she was at having deceived them. The cats came in for a share of the teasing propensities of Poll, who seemed to love to amuse herself at their expense; there were two of them, large tabbies, who rejoiced in the names of "Dr. Pusey" and "Uncle Tom." Poll would wait patiently until they seemed in a state of dreamy obliviousness of all sublunary things, stretched comfortably before the fire or basking in the sunshine, winking their great green eyes lazily, when a sudden call of "Pusey, Pusey, Dr. Pusey" would bring him running eagerly towards the cage; then "Uncle Tom, Uncle Tom," followed in the same tone (generally my sister's voice being the medium of deception used); but as soon as they came quite close, a terrific bark sent them flying to the farthest corner of the room, where they would remain peeping fearfully from under a chair, until, as they thought, the coast was clear, while low chuckling laughs and loud whistles proclaimed Poll's intense appreciation of their terror.