"Ah! but you didn't hear Cherry's adventure about the bird, did you, count?" demanded Dapper, still continuing the conversation.
The count shook his head.
"Why, this was it," said the gallant captain of hussars. "A waggish friend of mine, whose name is Dawson, dined with me and Cherry the other day; and the conversation turned upon birds. Cherry said he was very fond of choice birds; and Dawson immediately observed, 'If you like to accept of it, I will make you a present of a very beautiful and curious bird. I bought it the other day at Snodkins's, the bird-fancier's in Castle Street; and you may have it:—it is still there. All you have to do is to take a cage with you, call, and ask for Mr. Dawson's Poluphloisboio.' Of coarse Cherry was quite delighted;—indeed, he almost hugged my friend Dawson; and all the rest of the evening he could think and talk of nothing but the bird with a hard name. At length he thought of asking how large a cage he ought to take with him. 'The largest you have got,' replied Dawson. So the evening passed away; and next morning, before the clock struck nine, there was Cherry, rattling up Regent Street as fast as he could in a hack-cab, with a huge parrot-cage jolting on his knees. Well, he reached Castle Street, found out Snodkins's, and said, 'Pleathe, I have come for Mithter Dawthon'th Poluphloithboio.'—'for Mr. Dawson's what?' cried Snodkins.—'For Mithter Dawthon'th Poluphloithboio,' repeated Cherry.—'And what the devil is that? and who the deuce are you?' roared Snodkins, who thought that Cherry had come to make a fool of him.—'The thing ith a bird; and my name ith Thir Cherway Bounthe,' was the reply.—'And my name is Snodkins,' said the fellow; 'and I don't understand being made a fool of by you.'—'Mithter Dawthon bought a bird here a few dayth ago,' persisted Cherry; 'and he thayth I may have it. Here'th the cage: tho give me the bird.'—Snodkins was now inclined to believe that it was all right; so he brought down the bird, put it into the cage, and Cherry drove triumphantly home with it. His mamma was sitting at breakfast when he entered with the cage in his hand. 'Here, ma,' said Cherry——"
"I don't thay Ma more than you do, Thmilackth," interrupted the youthful baronet.
"Yes, you do, Cherry," returned Dapper: "I have heard you a hundred times. But let me tell the story out. Well—Cherry's mamma exclaims, 'Lor, boy, what have you got there?'—'A Poluphloithboio, ma, that my fwiend Dawthon gave me.'—'A what, Cherry!' shrieks the old lady.—'A Poluphloithboio, ma,' answers Cherry, bringing the cage close up to his ma.—'A Poluphloisboio!' ejaculates mamma: 'why, you stupid boy, it is nothing more or less than a hideous old owl!'—and so it was: and there the monster sate upon the perch, blinking away at a furious rate and looking as stupid as—as Cherry himself—smite him!"
Isabella had returned to the apartment and resumed her seat a few moments before this story was finished; and Captain Dapper appeared very much annoyed and surprised that she did not condescend to laugh at the recital.
"By the by," he observed, after a moment's pause, "I have something to tell you all—strike me!"
"Oh! yeth—about Wichard Markham," said Sir Cherry.
The count made a movement of impatience; the countess looked up from her embroidery; and a deep blush mantled upon the cheek, and a sudden tremor passed through the frame, of the lovely Isabella.
"Yes—about Richard Markham," continued the hussar officer. "I and Cherry were riding in the neighbourhood of his house the other day—"