— “and he looked up at me and said, ‘Polly’s very sick,’ And when I picked Mm up he was as light as — oh! so light. And he sat on my lap without moving, only breathing very hard. And then after a little, I saw his head drooping, so I touched him to wake him up. And he started up, and shook himself so hard that he rolled over on his side, and then I heard him saying something to himself, so I put down my head to listen. And he opened his eye again quite wide, and looked at me just as if he knew who I was quite well, and whispered to me, ‘poor Polly’s going to die.’ And then he shut his wings up tight, and stretched out one leg after the other — and — and died.”
I was very sorry for it, after he was really dead, for Jenny was very fond of him, and the parrot, I think, was very fond of her. So when I looked round and saw Tiny eating the dead bird’s pudding, I gave a screech like the parrot used to give, and the little wretch shot off in a flurry of fluff to the sink, where we let him stay until we had buried poor Polly under the laurel-tree. Jenny proposed to have it stuffed; but considering the proposal of stuffing such a naked bird absurd, I evaded the suggestion, nor did she press it.
But all this time I have been anticipating a great deal. It was the first mention of the parrot that set me off on the digression. I have not yet told you how my wife got her birds, or what birds she has got.
Well, I had given my consent, you remember, to a bird being bought; so immediately after breakfast, my wife went out to choose one — “a little one,” she said. Bat before she went out she confided her want to the landlady, who, going out herself soon after, also interested herself in the selection, and told a few bird-
