“The first time I ever heard her speak was one day when I was talking to the maid, at the bottom of the stairs, and heard what I then considered to be a child call out, ‘Payne (the maid’s name), I am not well, I’m not well!’ And on my saying, ‘What is the matter with that child?’ she replied, ‘It is only the Parrot, she always does so when I leave her alone, to make me come back;’ and so it proved, for on her going into the room, the Parrot stopped, and then began laughing quite in a jeering way.
“It is singular, that whenever she is affronted in any way she begins to cry, and when pleased, to laugh. If any one happens to cough or sneeze, she says, ‘What a bad cold.’ One day when the children were playing with her, the maid came into the room, and on their repeating to her several things which the Parrot had said, Poll looked up, and said quite plainly, ‘No I didn’t.’ Sometimes when she is inclined to be mischievous, the maid threatens to beat her, and she often says, ‘No you won’t.’ She calls the Cat very plainly, ‘Puss, Puss,’ and then answers, ‘Mew;’ but the most amusing part is, that whenever I want to make her call it, and to that purpose say, ‘Puss, Puss,’ myself, she always answers, ‘Mew,’ till I begin mewing, and then she begins calling ‘Puss’ as quick as possible. She imitates every kind of noise, and barks so naturally, that I have known her to set all the Dogs on the parade at Hampton Court barking, and I dare say, if the truth was known, wondering what was barking at them! and the consternation I have seen her cause in a party of Cocks and Hens by her crowing and chuckling has been the most ludicrous thing possible. She sings just like a child, and I have more than once thought it was a human being; and it is most ridiculous to hear her make what we should call a false note, and then say, ‘Oh la!’ and burst out laughing at herself, beginning again quite in another key. She is very fond of singing, ‘Buy a Broom,’ which she says quite plainly; but, in the same spirit as in calling the Cat, if we may say, with a view to make her repeat it, ‘Buy a broom,’ she always says ‘Buy a brush,’ and then laughs as a child might do when mischievous. She often performs a kind of exercise which I do not know how to describe, except by saying that it is like the lance exercise. She puts her claw behind her, first on one side and then on the other, then in front, and round over her head, and whilst doing so, keeps saying, ‘Come on, come on!’ and when finished, says ‘Bravo, beautiful!’ and draws herself up. Before I was as well acquainted with her as I am now, she would stare in my face for some time, and then say, ‘How d’ye do, Ma’am?’ this she invariably does to strangers. One day, I went into the room where she was, and said, to try her, ‘Poll, where is Payne gone?’ and to my astonishment, and almost dismay, she said, ‘Down stairs.’
“That looks very much as if it understood what was said to it,” remarked Harry.
“It does so,” said Uncle Thomas; “and can only be accounted for by supposing it to be one of those curious coincidences which sometimes surprise us. I can, however, tell you a story in which, though the Parrots could only utter a couple of phrases each, they used them as naturally as if they had a whole vocabulary at command:—
“A tradesman who had a shop in the Old Bailey, opposite the prison, kept two Parrots, the one green, and the other grey. The green Parrot was taught to speak when there was a knock at the street door; the grey put in his word whenever the bell was rung; but they only knew two short phrases of English a-piece, though they pronounced these very distinctly. The house in which their owner lived had a projecting old-fashioned front, so that the first floor could not be seen from the pavement on the same side of the way; and one day when they were left at home by themselves, hanging out of a window, some one knocked at the street door. “Who’s there?” said the green Parrot, in the exercise of his office. “The man with the leather!” was the reply; to which the bird answered with his farther store of language, “Oh, ho!” The door not being opened immediately as he expected, the stranger knocked a second time. “Who’s there?” said the green Parrot again.—“Who’s there!” said the man with the leather, flying into a passion, ‘Why don’t you come down?’ to which the Parrot again made answer, ‘Oh, ho!’ This response so enraged the visitor that he dropped the knocker and rang furiously at the house bell; but this proceeding brought the grey Parrot, who called out in a new voice, ‘Go to the gate.’—‘To the gate?’ muttered the appellant, who saw no such convenience, and imagined that the servants were bantering him. ‘What gate?’ cried he, getting out into the kennel, that he might have the advantage of seeing who it was that spoke to him. ‘Newgate,’ responded the grey Parrot, just at the moment when his species was discovered.
“Capital!” said Frank, laughing.
“So you see, Frank,” said Uncle Thomas, “that the appropriate answers given by Parrots are not always the result of intelligence.
“Perhaps the most celebrated Parrot,” continued Uncle Thomas, “whose sayings and doings figure in history, is one—a blue Macaw—which belonged to the late Dr. Thornton, who bought it for fifteen guineas, to grace his museum. When in a confined exhibition-room in Bond-street, where it was kept chained by the leg, it made those screaming noises so offensive in its tribe, and seemed sulky and unhappy; but being brought to the doctor’s house (his botanical exhibition having closed), from motives of humanity, the chain was removed that confined it to its perch. At first its feet were so cramped, and the muscles so much weakened from long disuse, that it could not walk. It tottered at every step, and appeared, in a few minutes only, greatly fatigued. Its liberated feet, however, soon acquired uncommon agility, its plumage grew more resplendent, and it became completely happy. It no longer indulged in screams of discontent, and all its gestures denoted gratitude. Its food, was now changed, it breakfasted with the family, having toast and butter; and dined upon potatoes, hard dumplings, with fruit occasionally after dinner. Like other Parrots, it never drank. Its sense of smell was uncommonly quick. It soon learned to know the time of meals, which it marked by a continued agitation of the wings, and anxiously running up and down its pole.
“When it received food it half opened its wings, and contracted the pupils of its eyes, and uttered a pleasing note of thankfulness. If it got any food of which it was not very fond, it held it in his left foot, and having eaten a little, threw the rest down; but if the food was nice and abundant, it carefully conveyed it to its tin reservoir, and left for another repast that which it could not immediately consume. It soon forgot its barbarous sounds, and imitated words; and for hours together amused itself by saying, ‘Poll,’—‘Macaw,’—‘Turn him out,’—‘Pretty fellow,’—‘Saucy fellow,’—‘What’s o’clock,’ laughing, and calling out the names of the doctor’s children. If any of them were hurt, it gave the first alarm; nor did it desist until they were attended to. The doctor’s son, observing the sagacity of this bird, undertook to instruct it. He taught it at the word of command to descend from its perch and stand upon his finger; then, by another order, it turned itself downwards, and hung upon the fore-finger by one foot, although the body was swung about with considerable violence. Being asked how a bad person should be served? it seized its master’s finger, suspended itself by its bill, like one hanging. At the command of its master it extended his wings to show their beauty. It would then fan the spectators with his wings; it was next put on the ground, and walked as readily backwards as forwards, with its two toes in front, and two behind. It would then clamber like a sailor up the mizen-mast and with its two open mandibles embraced its perch, which was nearly two inches in thickness. Placed there, it was asked—if a certain gentleman were to come near him, how he should be served? It shook its head several times, raised its wings, erected its feathers and opening its mouth, laid hold of a finger, seemingly in earnest, and kept biting it, as though it would have taken it off, opposing every resistance; and when it liberated the finger, uttered a scream. It was then asked how it would serve its master?—when it would silently bite his finger, caress it with its beak and tongue, and hold its head down, as expecting it to be scratched. Nor is this all: a nut being given to it, while on the lower part of his stand, it mounted the upright stick, and the nut disappeared without the spectator being able to tell how. At the word of command it presented the nut to the company, held it in its paw, and then cracked it. It had been taught to conceal the nut under its tongue, in the hollow of the under mandible. When a peach-stone was given to it, it found out its natural division, and by repeated efforts contrived to open it and eat the kernel. When nuts were presented to it, it became agitated, and had so much sagacity that, without cracking, when it took up a bad nut, it very indignantly threw it on the ground. It was remarkably fond of music; and with motions of its feet along the perch, movements of its wings, and its head moving backwards and forwards, it danced to all lively tunes, and kept exact time. If, however, any person sung or played in wrong measure it quickly desisted.
“This interesting animal was very friendly to strangers, but put on a terrific appearance towards children, and was very jealous of infants. In rainy weather the blue feathers looked green; and also in clear weather when there were vapours in the sky; hence it was an admirable weather-gauge. What proved a peculiar sagacity in its imitations was, that these it effected sometimes without its voice: for example, there was a scissors-grinder who came into the street, where the bird was kept, every Friday. All Parrots have a file in the inside of the upper mandible, with which they grind down the under bill, and in this they are employed for an hour every evening. This sound people usually mistake for snoring. This scraping was attempted, but its nice ear marked the difference, and had recourse to his claws, which it struck against the perch, armed with tin, and, observing the time of the turning of the wheel, it effected a most exact imitation, which it repeated every Friday.”