CHAPTER XXXVIII. 



Pennant's 



I HIS is a fine handsome bird, not quite as large as 

 the King Parrakeet, but much more brilliantly 

 coloured. At the same time I cannot say that I am 

 very greatly enamoured of it, for although it will 

 whistle fairly well, and even learn to say a few words, 

 I do not think it is particularly intelligent, and every 

 specimen of the species I have had to do with has, 

 sooner or later, developed an unfortunate habit of 

 feather-biting, and this of course soon destroys its 

 appearance, which, after all, constitutes the bird's chief 

 attraction. 



I have tried it indoors, out-of-doors, in cage and 

 aviary, and do not, on the whole, feel inclined to have 

 anything to say to it again, for although undeniably 

 handsome, I might even say magnificent, looking at 

 the creature's plumage only, it has nothing else to 

 recommend it, especially as it chatters incessantly in 



