"In the fall, I suppose; I am going to boarding-school."
"What fun!"
"You would be amused with Polly. She is a gay old thing—laughs, sings, and dances."
"Oh, Graham, can she do all that?"
"Indeed she can; sometimes she sings like a nurse putting a child to sleep, in a sort of humming hush-a-by-baby way; then she tries dance-music, and hops first on one foot, then on the other—this way," and Graham began mimicking the parrot, and Phil laughed till the tears came.
"She screams out 'Fire!' like an old fury, but she is as serene as a May day when she gets her cup of coffee."
"Is that your parrot, Graham?" asked Miss Schuyler.
"Yes, ma'am, that's our green-and-golden Polly."
"We will have to pay it a visit. Can you join our picnic to-morrow? it is Phil's first one."
"Really! why, he has a good deal to learn of our country ways."