A lady entered, so the boys waited a few minutes while Mr. Cottenham attended to her. They looked at the parrot, who kept turning its head, first to one side and then to the other, chuckling as it did so.
Mr. Cottenham told them to go into his parlour at the back of the shop; behind it was a large garden, which ran down to the river. The chemist was very fond of gardening; his garden was always neat and trim, and full of flowers, according to the season of the year. There was a door which opened from the parlour into the garden, and they could see a dog chained up. It was a big collie, and it wagged its tail when it saw Steve.
“Rover,” called Steve to the dog through the open window, “good doggie!” Rover barked and frisked about.
Stephen Gray’s father was an intimate friend of Mr. Cottenham, and Steve had often had tea with him. Mr. Cottenham was a bachelor, and his chief companion was his parrot. He was very fond of music, and played the fiddle well, and he usually assisted when there was a grand festival at the cathedral. Stephen Gray’s father was a solo-bass in the choir, and also played the violoncello.
Mr. Cottenham brought in Poll, took it out of its cage, and put it on the bar of its stand, when it began to chatter again.
“Poor Poll wants some cake. Oh dear! oh dear! where’s the sugar?” said the bird.
“Now, Poll,” observed the chemist, “you must not talk, as I don’t want to be interrupted.”
“Poor Poll wants some cake,” said the bird.
“Then Poll shall have some,” said Mr. Cottenham, picking out a piece, while the bird watched every movement. “Now, Poll, draw a cork, and then you shall have this piece of cake.”
Poll made a wonderful imitation of the popping of a cork and the gurgling sound of liquid being poured out.