While this was going on, Jack felt that the cobwebs which had seemed to float about his face were all gone; he did not care at all any more about the gipsy, and began to watch the parrots with great attention.
He observed that when the handkerchief stuck between the cage wires, the parrots caught it, and drew it inside; and then Jack saw the cunning old bird himself lay it on the floor, fold it crosswise like a shawl, and put it on his wife.
Then she jumped upon the perch, and held it with one foot, looking precisely like an old lady with a parrot’s head. Then he folded Jack’s handkerchief in the same way, put it on, and got upon the perch beside his wife, screaming out, in his most piercing tone:
“I like shawls; they’re so becoming.”
Now the gipsy did not care at all what those inferior people thought of her, and she was calmly counting out their money, to return it; but she was very desirous to make Jack forget her behaviour, and had begun to smile again, and tell him she had only been joking, when the parrot spoke, and, looking up, she saw the two birds sitting side by side, and the parrot-wife was screaming in her mate’s ear, though neither of them was at all deaf:
“If Jack lets her allure him into the woods, he’ll never come out again. She’ll hang him up in a cage, as she did us. I say, how does my shawl fit?”
So saying, the parrot-wife whisked herself round on the perch, and lo! in the corner of the handkerchief were seen some curious letters, marked in red. When the crowd saw these, they drew a little farther off, and glanced at one another with alarm.
“You look charming, my dear; it fits well!” screamed the old parrot in answer. “A word in your ear, ‘Share and share alike’ is a fine motto.”
“What do you mean by all this?” said the gipsy, rising, and going with slow steps to the cage, and speaking cautiously.
“Jack,” said the parrot, “do they ever eat handkerchiefs in your part of the country?”