I have a bird. It is a bullfinch. It is real pretty, and whistles like a boy. It likes potatoes and corn very much, and eats them out of my mouth and hand. When it whistles it says "Pretty Poll" just as plain as a parrot, and when it bathes it spatters me all over.
Lena E. Schmidt.
Des Moines, Iowa.
I want to tell you about a cat-bird or mocking-bird that built its nest in the tree near our house last summer. I have three brothers, and when we all go off to play, mamma could not always make us hear when she called. She bought a whistle, and when she blew it once, it was for me, and two, three, and four times for my brothers. The mocking-bird learned to imitate the whistle so well that we could not always tell whether it was mamma calling or the bird. It would also imitate the squeaks of the saw when the men were sawing wood. We hope it will come back again next spring.
M. I. Watrous.
Troy, New York.
I am a little girl nine years old, and take Young People, and I watch for it every week. I have three pets—two cats and one squirrel. The cats are twins; one is named Girofle, and the other Girofla. They were born on Palm-Sunday, and are nearly three years old. They are so much alike that you can not tell them apart. My squirrel's name is Prince.
Grace MacLeod.