"SHE PUT OUT A FINGER, AND JOCKO CLAWED IT WITHOUT CEREMONY."
She put out a finger, and Jocko clawed it without ceremony.
"I advised Aunt Marcia to send him to you, Penelope, and I am so glad she has done so. He seemed quite croupy yesterday, and at his age, of course, even a slight ailment may prove serious."
"How old is that bird, Miss Vesta, if I may ask?" said Miss Penny.
"I know he's older'n I be, but I never liked to inquire his age of Direxia; she might think it was a reflection."
"I remember Jocko as long as I remember anything," said Miss Vesta. "I used to be afraid of him when I was a child, he swore so terribly. The story was that he had belonged to a French marquis in the time of the Revolution; he certainly knew many—violent expressions in that language."
"I want to know if he did!" exclaimed Miss Penny, regarding the parrot with something like admiring awe.
"Why, I've never heard him use any strong expressions, Miss Vesta. He does speak French sometimes, but it doesn't sound like swearin', not a mite. Not ten minutes ago he was sayin' something about Jehu; sounded real Scriptural."
"Oh, I have not heard him swear for years," said Miss Vesta. "Aunt Marcia cured him by covering the cage whenever he said anything unsuitable. He never does it now, unless he sees some one he dislikes very much indeed, and of course he is not apt to do that. Poor Jocko! good boy!"