Parrots §«? Parakeets 167 



Now as Puff, a very favourite black poodle, had 

 been underground for about six years, it really was 

 rather trying, and Polly knew it ; therefore he empha- 

 sised the fact, with a sly and mischievous gleam in 

 his straw-coloured eye. 



That poor dog ! He was as clever as Polly in his 

 way, and when he was the wrong side of the door, 

 instead of scratching the varnish of a good mahogany, 

 as a vulgar and ill-mannered dog would do, he stood 

 sideways and thumped on the panels with his tail. 



Necessity was the mother of invention, for he had 

 been told so very severely, by a decidedly Spartan- 

 minded mistress, not to scratch. 



With regards his body, this order didn't seem to 

 apply. I suppose he thought he might, at any rate, do 

 what he liked in that direction, for scratch he certainly 

 did. There never was such a dog for scratching ; it 

 was evidently irresistible. 



Then, too, when one night on retiring to roost — 

 I can't help saying " roost," since I am supposed to be 

 writing on birds — he found that his rug was not spread 

 in the usual place in a corner of the room ; after re- 

 peatedly being told to lie down, but refusing to do 

 so, he at last jammed his woolly head under a chest 

 of drawers where his rug was stowed during the day, 

 dragged it out in his mouth, and proceeded to claw 

 it into bed-shape with his paws. Then, and not till 

 then, did he curl himself up with a contented sigh. 



After that it was a nightly trick, to the amusement 

 of visitors, as with bedroom candle in hand they came 

 in to their hostess's room to see the performance. 



