“For some days she noticed that the bird seemed dull, and talked very little; yet she did not connect it with the fact of her attention to the dog. But at last as Polly refused to eat, and seemed uneasy when the spaniel was present, she was convinced that the bird was jealous. Every means was tried to reconcile the old friend to the new one, but in vain. Polly knew that children must of course be loved and cared for. She herself loved the children of her mistress; but she could not endure that any other favorite should divide the affection she had so long enjoyed. From this time she drooped; and upon consulting a physician, he said she had every symptom of consumption. Her feet swelled, and at last she died on my friend’s breast, seeming ‘happy in being allowed to die in the arms of one she so dearly loved.’”
A few weeks later, Mrs. Lee invited a small party of friends to take tea at her house. They were all seated in the parlor, and Poll, who was out of her cage, perched on the back of a chair in the next room, and listened with the greatest curiosity to the hum of so many voices.
Presently one of the ladies related a precious bit of scandal then running through the town. She had scarcely finished her narration, when a shrill exclamation,—
“Possible!” in a tone of incredulity, came through the open doors.
The relator blushed deeply, but went on to prove that her statement must be true, while Mrs. Lee was so much amused, she was obliged to make a great effort to keep from laughing.
Again, as soon as the lady ceased, the exclamation,—
“Possible!” was repeated, as if in greater doubt.
This was too much of an insult, and the lady’s face kindled with anger.
Mrs. Lee quietly arose, saying, “Poll must come in and make her own apology for her rudeness;” and soon returned with the parrot clinging to her finger.
“Poll has a bad habit of interrupting conversation,” she said, playfully, “especially when she wishes to be invited to join the company, as at present.”