AN AFFECTIONATE PARROT.
DEAR Mr. Editor,— The little anecdote I am going to tell you is about a parrot my aunt once had—named, of course, Polly. She had been taught many funny and amusing speeches, among which she used to say to a canary that hung in the same room, "Pretty Poll, shabby canary;" and when the canary sang she would cry out, "Oh, what a noise! what a noise!" My aunt having been very ill, had not seen Polly for a long time, not being able to bear her noisy talking; but one day feeling better, she asked to see her. She was brought to her room, but seemed very quiet. My aunt, who could not understand why she was so unusually quiet, called to her, "Polly, come and kiss me!" The poor bird flew to her mistress, laid her beak on her lips, and died, it is supposed, of her great joy at again seeing her mistress, after grieving so long at her absence.
Emily F. Woolf.
(Aged 15.)
138, Edgware Road, London, W.