A FEATHERED PARSON. 135 



some surprise at not seeing any source from which 

 she could suspect the voice to proceed, or any pos- 

 sibiUty of accepting the invitation so cordially ex- 

 tended her, she replied, " I will wait, but I see no 

 chair." 



" Betty ! Betty ! come quick ! come quick ! come 

 quick ! Some one here. — Take a chair," called out 

 the voice loudly. 



Kather alarmed — for there was no one in the little 

 shop but herself — my friend hastened to the door, 

 when she happened to catch sight of a bird-cage just 

 inside it, containing a strange-looking black bird, with 

 two white bands, that reminded her of those worn by 

 English clergymen, extending downward from its 

 throat. At the same moment a woman appeared at 

 the half-opened door leading to the rear of the shop. 



" Tas tha burd b' talken, mum," said she, with a 

 strong north-of -England accent. " Tas a parson, 

 mum ; them do go on worse'n parrots." 



On inquiry, the talker proved to be what natural- 

 ists call a Prosthemadera, which had been brought by 

 the shopkeeper all the way from New Zealand, where 

 she had formerly resided, of which island the bird is 

 a native. 



Its popular name, " parson bird," given it by the 

 early colonists of New Zealand in allusion to the 

 peculiar tufts of long white feathers that hang down 

 from the throat as if to set off its glossy black plum- 

 ao-e, and which resemble clerical bands, certainly 

 seems appropriate. 



Perched on a stump, as an extemporized pulpit, it 



