''To be sure, said I mildly. 'Wasn't that what you wished me to do?'
''Wished you to do?' To mope, and wail, and lie on the carpet like a dead chicken? Never to sing a note or eat a morsel? To peck at the hands that brought food, and—and——'
''I am sure I cannot help it, Sir, if the bird has become attached to me, and mourns when away.'
''You've taught the creature to do it! Look at this finger, will you! another piece taken clean out of it! Piece, I say!—steak, I mean! The bird's a regular butcher! Here, kill the creature directly, and have it stuffed for my cabinet by this day week.'
'And as he set down the cage on the counter, the Flicker, with a joyful cry, jumped to the wicker-door, and tried to pick a way out to me by its beak.
''There! you see what you've done! Why don't the wretch act so to me?'
''I really can't say, Sir. Perhaps because I've had a great deal to do with birds, and naturally know how to manage them.'
''Well, I don't care. Stuff the thing, and I shall be able to manage it then myself.'
''May I make you a repetition of my offer? If you haven't a toucan in your collection, there is a very fine one I'll give you for the Flicker, stuffed only last Saturday. Here's a young pelican—a still rarer bird. Or how would you like a flamingo?'
''Got 'em all,' replied the gentleman curtly. 'And if I hadn't, I count the Flicker. Kill the thing, I say, and stuff it.'