One evening, just after dark, as he was roaming about, feeling very sad, and thinking that, perhaps, it would be better to run away than to use the meat-hook, he all at once found himself in the next garden, and while he was looking round him, he heard voices.
“Lovely Mrs. Daw,” said one of the voices which he seemed to recognise, “I am a traveller—I speak five languages—I have a palace made of golden bars, within which is a perch fit for a king,—I have a pension of bread and milk and nuts; all of which I will share with you. To-morrow we will fly for an excursion on to the great oak-tree in Farmer Hodges’ field.”
THE PARROT COURTING THE JACKDAW.
“Dear me!” thought Fido, “this must be Mr. Parrot.” And, sure enough, so it was,—Mr. Parrot, indeed, and making the warmest of love to old Mrs. Daw, the widow of Miser Jack Daw, who, during a long life, and by means of stealing and saving, had laid by a large fortune, which he had left Mrs. Daw to enjoy.
The old widow seemed very much pleased at the warmth of Mr. Paul’s love, and no doubt thought that every word he said was true; leering round at him with her old eyes, and wishing that she had put on a clean muslin cap, as it might have made her look even younger than she thought she did.
As for Fido, he almost jumped for joy; he ran home as soon as ever he could.
“Oh, Tittums!” said he, heedless of her scornful looks, “what do you think I have found out? There is that rascal of a Paul Parrot, who pretends so much love for you, courting Widow Daw at this very moment; and if you come at once you may see it with your own eyes.”
“Nonsense!” replied Tittums: “I do not believe it.”
“Well,” said the Dog, “to convince you, if you will only come to the other side of the wall you shall see that what I have said is quite true.”