1)< )MESTICATED NATURE. 



417 



have been original with him. Further- 

 more, besides his conversational gifts 

 he could sing and employed his ex- 

 tensive repertoire with unctuous relish 

 —no matter what the neighbors 

 thought. 



The bird was considered a member 

 of the family, practically on a par with 

 the rest and being much talked to— 

 and, incidentally, much spoiled, was 

 probably helped into original lines of 

 reasoning. Mis only punishment was 

 to have a large cloth thrown over his 

 head in the daytime. litis he loathed 

 with all his parrot heart for he was 

 so afraid he might miss something" as 

 he was exquisitely curious and always 

 wanted to know what was going on. 

 When covered as a punishment, he 

 would scold and grumble at first, and 

 from his language, there was no mis- 

 taking his displeasure. He had his 

 ideas of us and the}' were far from 

 flattering, at the same time curiously 

 well confined to speech more or less 

 permissible. After a while a subdued 

 voice would issue from under the cloth, 

 "I key be good." "Ike}' be good now." 

 A^ the cloth was generally adminis- 

 tered as a corrective of his noise, he 

 would be asked if he would lie quiet? 

 This he readily promised, but he was 

 unreliable and his most solemn pro- 

 mises were utterly worthless. The 

 cloth being removed he would sit 

 quietly until he had been forgotten, 

 then emit a rapid succession of 

 screeches so hideous that they would 

 make one's blood run cold. 



Very frequently his remarks were 

 so apt — so maliciously well timed, that 

 it was difficult to believe that he had 

 not been taught his disconcerting 

 speeches. For instance, a young lady 

 staying with us had been receiving 

 some attention from Captain S — . 

 One day when the gentleman '-ailed, 

 Ike} had been liberated and was in 

 the kitchen, assiduously "jollying" the 

 cook. Suddenly the bird entered the 

 parlor, deliberately waddled up to 

 Edith, planted himself squarely in 

 front of her and asked. "1 low's the 

 Captain?" Nothing could ever make 

 Edith believe that some one of us had 

 not taught Ikey this question, but 1 

 am just as sure that none of us did. 



In an_\ event though, the opportunity 



for deliverance was entirely of ikey's 

 own selection. 



Ikey dearly loved to start a dog 

 fighl and one afternoon was a red 

 letter occasion for him in this respect. 

 A neighbor happened to be on her 

 doorstep, watched the whole process 

 and reported the affair to us. Ikey 

 was in the open window when two 

 clogs met in the street. The animals 

 circled round each other in the stiff 

 hostile manner which strange dogs 

 display under such circumstances. 

 .Most probably they would have gone 

 about their respective businesses in 

 peace had it not been for the parrot. 

 Nothing escaped Ikey's attention, in- 

 doors or out and he joyfully seized this 

 chance for creating trouble. "Sic 'em," 

 he yelled, and his sic began with a 

 long, artistic hiss. At the first call 

 the dogs looked up in surprise. At 

 the next "sic 'cm," the brutes con 

 eluded that the superior mentality of 

 some human being was urging them 

 on. .So they promptly joined in 

 frenzied battle while high above their 

 noise floated Ikey's piercing encour- 

 agement. Other dogs hurried up to 

 investigate and participate until the 

 roadway was full of dogs snarling, 

 snapping and waging delightful con- 

 flict. 



Attracted by the din, the housemaid 

 ran to the window, then hearing Ikey's 

 joyous yells at the fighting animals 

 she popped the cloth over his cage, 

 utterly extinguishing the bird's delight. 

 That time though. Ikey did not scold 

 but for two hours after there came from 

 the gloom of his cage the most ecstatic 

 chuckles. Verily fond memories were 

 wi >rking ! 



Towards dusk, Ikey always wanted 

 his cover put on for the night; the 

 day's activities had doubtless tired 

 him. If neglected in this regard he 

 would make his wants known. His 

 call would Moat through the house, in 

 sweetest flutelike tones, — "Mother- 

 Mother!" Mother would respond and 

 the parrot would murmur drowsily- 

 "Poor Ikey. Ikey's so sleepy." Then 

 he would be hushed until next morn- 

 ing, absorbing energy for another day 

 of activity, eloquence and crime. 



