STORIES ABOUT BIRDS. 79 



hideous noise. I used to think she tried to 

 teach these creatures to scream and yell, be- 

 cause she liked such music. If so, she had a 

 most unearthly taste, I admit. But let the 

 reason be what it ma}^, she always had some 

 bird or beast that shrieked, for mere pastime, 

 like a hyena. Sometimes it was a cat, some- 

 times a parrot, sometimes a little screamer of 

 a bird whose notes were provokingly like the 

 music produced by the filing of a saw. 



But of all the favorites of this singular lady, 

 her parrot uttered the most hideous noises ; 

 and yet, odd as it may appear, she seemed to 

 be more deeply in love with him than with 

 any of the rest of her favorites. My study 

 was so near this croaker, that I was compelled 

 to hsten to him from morning till night ; and 

 he annoyed me prodigiously, I do assure you. 

 It was quite as much as I could do, sometimes, 

 to keep as much patience in the bank as was 

 necessary for current expenses. Whatever 

 love for the parrot family I might have had 

 previous to my acquaintance with my neighbor 

 across the way, was pretty effectually used up 

 long enough before his death, which took place 

 about three months after his mistress had 

 adopted him, and which, as may be supposed, 

 cost me no tears. 



