“Because what?”
“I don’t know, uncle.”
“No, of course you do not, my boy, for crows they really are.”
“What! birds of paradise with their lovely buff plumes, uncle?”
“Yes, birds of paradise with their lovely buff and amber plumes, my boy; they are of the crow family, just as our jays, magpies, and starlings are. You would be surprised, my boy, when you came to study and investigate these matters, how few comparatively are the families and classes to which birds belong, and how so many of the most gorgeous little fellows are only showily-dressed specimens of the familiar flutterers you have at home. Look at that one there, just on the top.”
“What! that lovely orange and black bird, uncle?” I said, picking up the one he pointed at, and smoothing its rich plumage.
“Yes, Nat,” he said; “what is it?”
Uncle Joe took his pipe from his lips, and looked at it very solemnly.
“’Tisn’t a parrot,” he said, “because it has not got a hooky beak.”
“No, it isn’t a parrot, uncle,” I exclaimed; “its beak is more like a starling’s.”