Rick and Ruddy: The Story of a Boy and His Dog

by Howard Roger Garis

"Quiet, Ruddy! Down!" spoke the boy in a low voice, and Ruddy, with one look up into his master's face stretched out at his feet. Ruddy, like a good and well-trained dog, had learned to mind, and a dog that will not obey is of very little use, even as a pet.

"Well, I've come back, you see!" said the sailor, and he reached up his hand to stroke the gaily-colored feathers of the parrot. "I've come back."

"Yes—yes," said Rick, slowly. "I—I see you!"

"And do you see my parrot?" went on the sailor. "Do you see Poll? Look at her!"

Indeed Rick was looking at the green bird, and the parrot, as she heard her name spoken, screeched out:

"Pretty Poll! Very pretty! Polly bite!"

"No you don't!" quickly exclaimed the sailor, shaking his finger and tapping the bird's beak. "If you bite not another cracker do you get for a week!"

"Ha! Ha! Pretty Poll! Pretty Poll! Over the fence is out! What ho! Sail ho! Ho! Ho!"

Thus cried the green parrot, and then from the woodshed came another voice, almost like that of the bird on the sailor's shoulder.

"Haw! Haw! Haw!" was shouted from the wood shed. "Get up! Get up! Whew-ew-ew-e-e-e-e-e-ah!" and a shrill whistle ended the jumble of queer sounds, at which Ruddy barked again.