48 HOMING WITH THE BIRDS 



stretch of the imagination to understand how 

 those pictures repelled me. I was horrified. 

 Editors insisted upon illustration; I refused to 

 allow the pictures they could provide to be in- 

 corporated in my text; so we were at a stand- 

 still. 



The parrot solved my problem. He was an 

 especial favourite with my husband, beside whose 

 place at the dining table the bird frequently 

 perched on the back of a low chair turned toward 

 the table. In solemn and dignified silence the 

 Major daintily ate food from a plate set before 

 him. There were times when he grew tired of 

 crackers and coffee, and saw something else on the 

 table that he preferred. Then he would try to 

 make us understand what he wanted. Once, after 

 completely losing patience with our stupidity, 

 he climbed from his chair to the table and with 

 flattened feathers and in tremulous haste lest he 

 be rebuked for this breach of discipline before he 

 reached the object of his quest, he made his way 

 among the dishes and snatched up a small green 

 onion. Hurrying back to his chair he greedily ate 

 three fourths of the hot vegetable. Several months 

 later he displayed an unusual desire for something 

 and we could not imagine what he wanted. Finally 

 I suggested that it might be an oyster. He caught 

 one from a fork and went hurrying back and forth 

 across his chair, his wings half-lifted, fussing as he 

 was accustomed to over something he had secured 



