viii INTRODUCTION. 



oats, biscuit, a bit of apple, pear, or even a slice of carrot, water, for drinking 

 and bathing, a good roomy cage, soft wood to gnaw, and coarse grit from 

 which to pick small stones to aid its digestion. 



If a bird thus fed and treated is placed in one room, and its teacher 

 takes his or her stand in one adjoining, where he or she can be heard, but 

 not seen by the Parrot, and the same words are as frequently as possible 

 repeated during the day; the bird will soon pick them up, and gratify the 

 owner by giving a distinct imitation of the sounds to which it listens all the 

 more intently, that it does not know exactly from whence they proceed. 



Do Parrots ever talk intelligently? that is to say, do they ever make in- 

 telligent use of their acquired vocabulary ? We think so. Thus our lamented 

 Goffin never screamed for "Potato!" except when he spied that esculent upon 

 the table; and it was certainly something like intelligence that prompted 

 another talented bird to say "Serve him right!" when his mistress, as much 

 in sorrow as in anger, asked: "O Polly, why did you bite my boy?" for the 

 urchin had been teasing the poor bird unmercifully, and had got no more 

 than his deserts, when "Polly" suddenly nipped and drew blood from the 

 offending finger. 



Parrots, as a rule, are long-lived, and instances have been mentioned to 

 us in which individual birds have lived in the same family for periods vary- 

 ing from forty to seventy and even eighty years, handed down from generation 

 to generation as valued heir-looms; but for one of these veterans that one 

 hears of, how many poor "Pollies" are hurried to an untimely end by the 

 ignorance of their owners, and the consequent mismanagement of the poor 

 creatures themselves ? 



We trust, however, that the readers of these pages have long ere this 

 learned to treat their pets judiciously, because naturally, and are in no danger 

 of relapsing into former errors respecting them, at the bidding of some friend 

 imbued with antiquated notions, the shallowness of which has been exposed 

 over and over again ; but are nevertheless cropping up every now and then, 

 and occasionally from the most unexpected quarters, for error dies hard, 

 though its end is certain. 



W. T. G. 



Moira House, 



Peckham Rye, Surrey. 



