CHAPTEE YII. 



HOW I CAUGHT A TARTAR. 



Psittacus, the wild parrot, surprises me by speaking French. Not 

 like Crusoe's parrot, but a very bad boy indeed — He finds 

 a mate and rears a little family. 



Iisr the chapter next preceding the last I told of 

 my capture of a parrot, but I have not related how 

 the parrot captured me. He was placed in a wooden 

 box, and after I had eaten my supper and made every- 

 thing snug for the night I went to sleep, as usual, in 

 my hammock. Shortly after daybreak the next 

 morning I was awakened by a gentle agitation of my 

 hammock, and peering out, saw in the gloom some- 

 thing clinging to the lower end. Looking up quickly, I 

 said, " Hola ! Who's there ? " There was an answer- 

 ing chuckle, and a gruff voice replied, " Hullo ! hullo, 

 massa ! " 



A reply was certainly more than I had expected, 

 and I leaped out of the hammock in alarm, kicking 

 the door open to let in the light. Then I saw my 

 prisoner of the night before hanging to the netting, 

 in which he had torn a large hole, and swinging glee- 

 fully from side to side. He was master of the situa- 

 tion, for he resisted with beak and claw every effort 



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