I would like to tell you of a parrot my grandmother has. My uncle used to go away every Saturday evening, and return Monday morning. The parrot used to know when Monday morning came, and at seven o'clock she used to take her stand on the railing of the stairway, and when he arrived would fly down to meet him. Once she had her wings clipped so that she could not fly. The next Monday she took her stand as usual, and losing her balance, fell down stairs. She has never tried again to fly.
E. T.
Poor Polly!
Newburgh, New York.
I am eleven years old, and this is the first time I ever wrote to any paper. I take three other papers besides this, but I like Harper's Young People the best. Jimmy Brown's stories are very funny. I wish he would write more. I think Mr. Otis is a charming author.
We have a black dog named Beaver, and a black horse named Frank, who performs circus tricks like the horses in Barnum's.
Emily L.
C. Y. P. R. U.
These letters stand for Chautauqua Young People's Reading Union, and indicate, as was explained last week, that the readers of this column are a branch of the great society which meets at Chautauqua every summer for study, recreation, and training in usefulness. Whoever shall take a part in contributing to the budget of the Postmistress may write C. Y. after his or her name, on the best authority. The column will be a sort of miscellany, and you may feel entirely at liberty to send anything to it that you please. For instance, here is a letter from a boy who, in studying natural history, has happened across a pleasant incident in the experience of a traveller in the East: