Various
Harper's Young People, November 25, 1879
"Mamma," I heard Carrie say once when they were all in the garden together, "Rito eats like an ogre. I am afraid he'll kill himself."
"The fresh air makes him hungry," said Louis, who always had a wise reason for everything. "The day you went to grandpa's, and played in the hay meadow, you ate like an ogre too. I heard grandma say so."
"Yes, I did eat all the jumbles in grandma's tin cake-box," said Carrie; "but that was only once, and every day nurse has to fill Rito's feed dish seven or eight times. He eats enough for ten Ritos."
"Oh, mamma, look at him!" screamed little Hope, who at that moment spied me indulging in my favorite exercise, swinging back and forth on my chain. The children and their mother ran toward me, while I, with one of my loud laughs (which I have heard some people say was a very wicked laugh: I don't think so), skillfully swung myself back to my branch, frightening as I did it a crowd of my feathered friends who were gathered about my feed dish. The children's mother saw them fly away. "Look," she cried; "there go the ogres. It is those thieving sparrows who eat so much, and not Lorito himself."
Now the sparrows may be too bold sometimes, but I do not think they are thieves, and it made me very angry to hear them called such a bad name. I screamed and struck my wings together so violently that I slipped from the branch, and was again swinging in the air by my chain.
"Mamma, Rito will break his legs, and then we shall have to kill him," screamed Louis, in alarm.
"Take off his chain, oh, mamma, do," said kind-hearted Carrie; while little Hope pleaded in her sweet voice: "Poor Rito will be good, mamma. He won't bite things any more."
You can not imagine how eagerly I listened to the discussion, for to be free from my chain was now my sole ambition. My heart was touched by the affection of the children, and when, to my intense delight, their mother yielded to their entreaties, I made a firm resolve that I would never bite and tear things again, unless by good luck I could find an old newspaper or a worthless stick, because I knew if I could not use my beak occasionally, it would ache as bad as Carrie's tooth does some nights when she goes crying to bed.
Since that time my life has been very peaceful. I am free as air, my wings have recovered their strength, and I go wherever I please. Whenever my little master Louis whistles for me I answer him at once, for I have learned to whistle as well as he, and I always go as fast as I can to perch upon his hand.
"I GO INTO MY CAGE."
When night comes, and it grows dark, I go into my cage myself, and my good friend Fritz always sleeps near me.
I have not forgotten my dear papa and mamma, nor my brother and sister, and I often wonder if they are still living in the beautiful hollow tree by the Congo; but I have learned to love new things, and to remember my childhood as a sweet dream instead of a lost and longed-for reality.
The gray parrot gave a little soft laugh, and was silent.
"I declare," said the canary, who had listened very attentively, "you have seen a lot of trouble. But why such a quiet, gentlemanly bird as you should have such a passion to bite and tear things, I can't imagine. Now my family—" But what the canary had to tell will always be a mystery, for at that moment the door opened and in came papa and mamma from the party.
"Oh, Fritz, you naughty dog!" said mamma, when she saw her pretty afghan lying in a heap on the floor. But when she lifted it to put it back on the lounge, she found Louis, still hugging his bow and arrow, Carrie, Hope, the white kitty, and Fritz, all curled up in a little warm bunch, sound asleep.
At that moment nurse, who had just returned from her party too, came running down stairs in great alarm.
"Sure, ma'am, the children ain't in their beds at all," she began, but stopped in astonishment when she saw her little charges sitting on the rug, rubbing their fists into their sleepy eyes.
"They did talk," said Louis, as soon as he was wide-awake enough to speak. "Lorito told us all about his brother and sister and everybody."
"Yes, mamma, and he's so sorry he tipped over the ink," said Carrie.
"Good Rito loves me," said little Hope; "he wouldn't bite me for anything;" and she hugged her white kitty, and went fast asleep, with her little head on mamma's shoulder, while mamma laughed merrily at the children's wonderful dream.
The gray parrot did not say a word. He sat very quiet in his cage, his head buried in his feathers, and his eyes shut tight.
But if, as mamma said, the children had been dreaming, it was very funny indeed that they all three dreamed exactly the same thing.
the end
A GREEDY BOY'S THANKSGIVING DREAM.
Relative Age of Animals.—The average age of cats is 15 years; of squirrels and hares, 7 or 8 years; rabbits, 7; a bear rarely exceeds 20 years; a dog lives 20 years, a wolf 20, a fox 14 to 16; lions are long-lived, the one known by the name of Pompey living to the age of 70. Elephants have been known to live to the age of 400 years. When Alexander the Great had conquered Porus, King of India, he took a great elephant which had fought valiantly for the king, and named him Ajax, dedicated him to the sun, and let him go with this inscription, "Alexander, the son of Jupiter, dedicated Ajax to the sun." The elephant was found with this inscription 350 years after. Pigs have been known to live to the age of 20, and the rhinoceros to 29; a horse has been known to live to the age of 62, but they average 25 or 30; camels sometimes live to the age of 100; stags are very long-lived; sheep seldom exceed the age of 10; cows live about 15 years. Cuvier considers it probable that whales sometimes live 1000 years. The dolphin and porpoise attain the age of 30; an eagle died at Vienna at the age of 104; ravens have frequently reached the age of 100; swans have been known to live to the age of 300. Mr. Malerton has the skeleton of a swan that attained the age of 200 years. Pelicans are long-lived. A tortoise has been known to live to the age of 107 years.