"I don't see anything to laugh at," said the poor cockatoo, collapsing into his sulky state once more. "I tell you I have a history, and a wonderful history too. I wish you would stop that chatter."
"Boy, boy, you'll be the death of me," said Mrs. Polly, not in her own language, but in the words taught her by Master Herbert.
"Oh, if you are going to speak in the language used by these abominable people who keep us here as prisoners and slaves, I've nothing more to say," said the poor cockatoo, scratching his eye once more.
"Well, I won't then," said Mrs. Polly graciously. "I have been told it is the height of bad manners to speak in a foreign language, if it is not understood by your companion, so I shall confine myself, when addressing you, to my mother tongue. And now, since you have told me your age, would you like to know mine?"
"Yes," said the cockatoo, for he really was a little puzzled as to Mrs. Polly's behaviour.
"Well, I'm seventy years old!" replied Mrs. Polly, drawing up her neck as far as its limited length would permit. "And now you can understand why I laughed, sir; for it did look a little absurd to hear a bird of your tender years speaking of a history. Think what mine must be, and what I must have come through and seen in my long life!"
They were here interrupted by the appearance once more of Master Herbert, who brought a most tempting piece of cake in his hand. Going up to the cockatoo, he said, "I suppose I needn't offer you this, Cockatoo. You are determined not to be friends." The cockatoo put out his claw for it, and took it gently from Herbert's hand, who could not fail to see there was a marked difference in the bird's appearance.
"Good boy, good boy!" shrieked the gray parrot from her perch, quite forgetting she had promised never to speak the English language, in her eagerness to mark her approval of his conduct. "Now, if you really would like to please Master Herbert," she continued in her own parrot tongue, "I'd say the words he has been trying to teach you for days. Come, out with it, old boy;" and again she relapsed into the English language.
CAKE FROM MASTER HERBERT. Page [12].