The Backslid Baptist dived into the centre of the Pullman.
"What is it, porter?"
"Jes' gittin' into Carbondale." The porter's calm voice dispelled the terrors of the night.
"Leggo! Leggo! Doggone you. Backslid! Come heah!"
A furore of acrobatic groaning marked a scene wherein the Wildcat was doing the best he could to pry himself loose from something that clung to various parts of his anatomy with a beak and eight sharp claws.
"Come heah! Light de light. Some varmint's got me."
The Backslid Baptist retraced his steps. "Ain't no varmint. One ob dem parrot birds."
The Backslid Baptist made a grab for the parrot, and from the bird's throat into the night again there lifted the wild laughter.
The porter opened the door of the linen closet wherein Lily the mascot goat was quietly eating her third pillow case. He cast the parrot from him into the darkness of the linen closet. "Wilecat, tell de lady in Lo' 10 Ah'll take keer de parrot till mawin'."
The parrot landed on Lily's neck. From behind the slammed door came a muffled "Blaa!" followed by the subdued noises of a large number-nine-sized ruckus.