The girl with the attentive smile was at the tea and Hervey Deyo captured her. Her name was Mina Low. He was congratulating himself on having interested her in his new monograph on parrakeet bills, when she sprang up with a little cry of pleasure.
“Oh, Mr. Deyo, there’s Ned Mullett. Let’s get him to imitate a trained seal. He’s perfectly killing.”
“I do not know seals,” said Hervey Deyo, severely. “They fail to attract me. I am a bird man.”
He left the tea with a heavy heart while the talented Mullett was bellowing,
“Norrrrrrrrrk. Norrrrrk. Wurrrr. Wurrrr.”
Lying in his bed that night the brain of Hervey Deyo entertained two thoughts. One was that Miss Low was a singularly charming girl; the other was he could not interest her by birds alone. How then? He analyzed the situation with the same care and logic that he applied to the dissection of a humming-bird. His conclusion was revolting but inescapable. He must master a parlor trick. He shuddered at the notion, but he was resolved.
“The end justifies the means,” he muttered.
He rose early and attacked the problem with the weapons of science. In his note-book he carefully wrote down all the animals and the sounds they made, with comments and remarks on their value as entertainment.
Ant-eater . . . . Wheeeeewhoooowheeee (difficult).
Buffalo . . . . Roooooor roooor (uncouth).