Various
Harper's Young People, November 18, 1879
"Be careful, Hope," said her father, as the smallest of the three stretched her little hand toward me; "that fellow bites like a savage."
"Poor Rito, he won't bite me," she said, sweetly; but I know I would have done it then, had not the children's mother astonished me by boldly taking me on her hand. "Poor Lorito," she said. "Look at his feet. They are all red and swelled. Anybody would be cross left all alone on a perch with his feet chained together."
She then gently removed my chain, and called the house-maid to carry the perch, with me upon it, to her sitting-room, and to prepare a dish of wine and sugar to bathe my feet.
When I found myself alone in the sitting-room, and had time to think quietly, I realized that a great change had taken place in the house. Three children had come home, and my solitary days were over. They might tease me, perhaps, but at least they would be company. Another thing too I realized, and that was that for the first time I was free. I looked around the room. It was light and sunny, and I could see that it was filled with various pieces of handsome furniture for which parrots have no use. You may be surprised, but to my mind a branch of a tree in a wild forest is infinitely more beautiful and useful than all the fine furniture in the world.
I began slowly to swing myself down from my perch with the intention of making a close inspection of the room. I am almost sure that at first I was more curious than malicious, but, alas! I had scarcely started on my voyage of discovery when I perceived a small blue and gilt bowl standing upon the marble hearth. It contained the sweetened wine ordered as a healing bath for my feet. The fragrance was so enticing that, forgetting the good precepts my mother had taught me, I dipped my beak into the bowl and took a long drink, nor did I stop so long as a single drop remained.
"TEARING OUT NAIL AFTER NAIL."
"I WAS BOTH HORRIBLE AND RIDICULOUS."
No sooner had I swallowed the contents of the bowl than I felt a strange burning sensation in my head, which seemed on the point of dancing away from my body. I was possessed of an intense desire to fight something, and I gazed eagerly around the room in the hope of finding some enemy with whom I could engage in mortal combat. I saw no moving thing in the whole apartment which I could attack, but unfortunately my eyes fell upon some shining brass nails which served as ornaments round the edge of a table. To my heated imagination each nail seemed glaring directly at me, menacing me like the evil eye of a bird of prey. I rushed madly toward the table, and climbing up one of its legs, I seized a nail in my beak. To my great delight I found I could easily pull it out, which I immediately did, and threw it spitefully away. With yells of triumph I crept all around the table, clinging with my claws, and tearing out nail after nail as I went, until every one of those aggravating glaring eyes lay scattered over the carpet.
Although I was victorious in my violent battle with the nails, my spirits were not yet calmed. In looking around for a new victim, I saw a bottle standing upon a table in the centre of the room. The old saying that he who drinks once will drink again is one of the truest of proverbs, and I no sooner discovered the bottle than I made all possible haste to reach it, hoping that it contained more sweetened wine. To be sure, the liquid in the bottle was very dark colored, and had an unpleasant odor, but in my eagerness I paid little attention to those things. I tried to taste it, but the mouth of the bottle was too small for my beak, and all my efforts were in vain. In my rage I vowed revenge, and, screaming loudly, I threw the tantalizing thing with violence to the floor.
Alas! my ill behavior was sadly punished. The bottle I had overturned was filled with ink, and I was spattered from head to foot with the vile black mixture. My beautiful plumage, of which I had been so proud, was ruined. I was both horrible and ridiculous. In this miserable and forlorn condition I climbed back upon my perch, and in a most wretched frame of mind waited to be discovered, and perhaps punished.
[to be continued.]
A Curious Incident.—Horses will form strong attachments for dogs, but it does not often happen that a horse derives any real benefit from having a canine friend. The following case will show that a dog may sometimes return a horse's affection in a very practical manner. A man living in the country had a horse which happened to be turned out just as his carrots were ready for pulling. He also had a dog that was on the best of terms with the horse. One day he noticed that his carrots were disappearing very fast, but he was almost certain that no one had got in and stolen them. Still he determined to watch, and see who was robbing him. His vigilance was rewarded, for he caught the thief in the very act of pulling up the carrots. Then he cautiously followed him from the garden, and found that he went off in the direction of the field where the horse was. Arrived there, the owner of the carrots saw that his horse was the receiver of his stolen goods. The thief was his dog. In some way the dog had discovered that the horse had a partiality for carrots, and was unable to gratify its taste; but with a sagacity that is almost incredible, the dog found the means of obtaining the succulent morsels for his friend, and this he did without scruple at his master's expense. There was something more than instinct in this dog's head. But any one who takes real notice of the habits and curious doings of animals must inevitably come to the conclusion that the theory is not tenable which maintains that animals can not think and reason.
I was very glad when papa brought me the first number of Young People, and told me I should have it every week. When I read the story of Watty Hirzel, the brave Swiss boy, it made me think of a boy I saw last summer in the Tyrol, where I went with papa and mamma. He was helping his father row a boat on the Königs-See, a beautiful lake in the Bavarian Tyrol. I remember him because he had a bunch of Alpine roses and Edelweiss, which he gave to mamma. We had never seen any flowers like them before, and we wondered if there was any pretty English name for the Edelweiss. Mamma thinks that perhaps if I ask Young People I shall find out. It is a white flower, with leaves like velvet, and the little boatman said it grew very high up on the mountains, where the chamois live.
Mamie.
We do not know any pretty English name for Edelweiss. The German name is composed of two words—edel, signifying noble, and weiss, white. If you are studying botany, perhaps you can determine to what family the flower belongs—that is, if you have any carefully pressed specimens.
Will you please tell me why the Bank of England is called "the Old Lady in Threadneedle Street," and who first called it so? I would like to know, too, when the bank was founded, and when the building it now occupies was erected.
Inquisitive Jim.
Will not some of our "young people" send answers to "Jim's" questions?
The picture of Chestnutting in the first number of Young People puts me in mind of our beechnutting parties. On the hill where my papa's house stands there are a large number of beech-trees, and I and my two little brothers have just had a fine frolic gathering the queer three-sided little nuts. A beech forest is very beautiful in autumn, when the golden leaves are fluttering down to the ground, and the smooth, straight tree trunks tower upward like silver-gray giants. When we gathered the nuts we spread some old sheets and blankets under the tree, because the nuts are so very small that otherwise we would never have been able to find them among the heaps of dry leaves. They are nestled in russet-brown burrs, something like chestnuts, and are so abundant that sometimes we get a whole barrelful from one tree. We like them better than chestnuts, and they keep all winter. My brothers and myself always take a pocketful to school to eat with our luncheon. We often find them in the spring among the heaps of last year's leaves, and after they have lain under the snow all winter, they begin to sprout when the first warm days come, and then they are very nice to eat.
I hope the Young People will tell us of some good winter-evening games, for we never know what to do between supper and bed-time. We always learn our lessons for the next day in the afternoon.
Susie H. C.