One day Polly got out of her cage, and, as the door was standing open, she flew very quickly through it and out of sight.
The lady hunted high and low for her pet, but she was not to be found. At last, just when she had given up all hope of ever seeing Polly again, a boy came to the door of the house.
"Please, Mrs. Brown" (for that was the lady's name), "I think your parrot is in Farmer Day's orchard. She is sitting in an old apple tree screeching for all she is worth."
"Oh, I do hope it is she," said Mrs. Brown, and off she went to seek the bird as fast as she could.
Sure enough, there was Polly perched high up in the tree crying out,—
"Oh dear me, poor Polly's lost—poor Polly's lost!"
As soon as she saw her mistress Polly cried out,—