162 TIBET TAB'S NEST. 



But the fun is when the master comes home at night. As soon 

 as he sits down to his supper Prince is on liand, ready to receive 

 all the attention. Sometimes he is on four legs, sometimes on two, 

 and all the while keeping his ridiculous little tail going like mad. 



At this performance Polly turns all sorts of colors, principally 

 green. She begins to whimper and cry, "Take Polly! Polly's 

 all alone! Poor Polly!" — until the master opens the cage-door 

 and lets the queer bird perch on his shoulder. 



Then there is a regulai' dog-and-parrot time, — Prince barking 

 and jumping up at one side, and Polly shrieking at the other, 

 "Out, Prince! Out, Prince! Get down, sir! Get down, sir!" 

 Between the noises I wonder how the master manages to eat a 

 mouthful. For I may as well tell you that neither Polly nor Prince 

 is capable of learning good manners. I never heard of any parrot 

 or black-and-tan terrier that was particularly well behaved. But 

 there is one thing to be said in Polly's favor, — she never says any 

 bad words. And that is more than can be said of some parrots, 

 and of some boys and girls I know about. 



TIBBY TAB'S NEST. 



One day, late in the fall. Aunt Phoebe was getting ready to go 

 to the city to pass the winter with her sister. Her pet cat, Tibby 

 Tab, was to be sent to a cousin's, as usual. Tibby did not like 

 that, for she was very fond of her mistress. 



Aunt Phoebe's trunk was packed and locked. She had a large 

 hand-valise, in which she carried some things, and when tea-time 

 came she left the valise open and went downstairs. 



The next morning the carriage came for her before she was quite 

 ready, and so she had to tumble some of her things into the valise, 

 and it was taken out with the trunk. Aunt Phoebe took her seat 

 in the carriage and drove away, but before she had reached the 

 great gate she heard Tibby Tab cry, •• Mew ! Mew-mew ! " 



