THE DOUBLE YELLOW-HEADED PARROT. 



I came from Mexico. Once I 

 talked Spanish, but at the 

 present time I speak the English 

 language altogether. Lucky, 

 isn't it ? My neck might be 

 wrung did I cry '^ Viva Espana ! " 

 just now. 



The reason why I spoke 

 Spanish in Mexico was because 

 I boarded with a Spaniard there; 

 now I live in the United States 

 and make my home with an 

 American family. As I only 

 repeat what I hear I must, of 

 course, talk just as they do. 



I was born, however, in the 

 finest Parrot country in the 

 world. My mother built her 

 nest in a deep hollow in the 

 highest tree trunk in a swamp 

 or jungle, and there laid just two 

 eggs. She was wise to choose a 

 high tree, for there she thought 

 her nest was out of danger. 



When we were hatched, my 

 brother and I, our parents fed 

 us only twice a day, in the early 

 morning and late evening. Two 

 meals a day was enough for 

 little babies, my mother said. 



Well, maybe it was, but in 

 our case it would have been 

 better had she not fed us at all. 

 You see the Parrot hunters were 

 about, and as my parents always 

 kept up such a loud '' clucking " 

 when feeding us, and we did the 

 same, why, the hunters found out 

 in which tall tree we lived. 



It was easy then for a "peon" or 

 poor Mexican to climb the tree, 

 and so all of our family were 

 made prisoners. Being Double 

 Y^ellow-headed Parrots we were 

 very valauble because we can talk. 

 My master paid $20.00 for me. 



The gentleman who owns me 

 now sells tickets in a theatre. 

 My cage hangs near the window, 

 and I used to hear him say 

 when there was a rush to buy 

 tickets, " One at a time, gentle- 

 men ; one at a time, please ! " I 

 hadn't learned to speak English 

 very well, then, but I heard the 

 sentence so often that I stored 

 it up for future use. 



My master, one day, went to 

 the country and took me with 

 him. The sight of the trees 

 made me think of my old home, 

 so I escaped from the cage and 

 flew off to the woods. 



They searched for me all day 

 but not till nightfall did they 

 find me. Such a sorry looking 

 bird as I was, sitting far out on 

 the end of a limb of a tree, with 

 my back humped, and half 

 the gay feathers plucked out of 

 me. Around me were a flock of 

 Crows, picking at me whenever 

 they got a chance. 



'^ One at a time, gentlemen," I 

 kept saying, hitching along the 

 limb, ''one at a time, please;" 

 but instead of tickets they each 

 got a feather. 



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