ALEXANDBINE FABBAEEET. 
53 
fondness for^ and her sympathetic attachment tOj me was something 
more than mere instinct^ for if I think strangely of her at any time, 
even in the middle of the night, she is sure to answer me with her 
own little note, her eyes remaining shut, and her head tucked in her 
shoulder, as though she were fast asleep.” 
That is ^Hhonght reading” to some purpose, and, as the writer of 
the above note truly says, shows “something more than mere instinct”; 
it would really seem now and then as if an erring sylph, or sprite, 
had been condemned to pass a certain period of its existence under 
the form of one of these cunning-looking birds, so remarkable is their 
intelligence, though not always, it must be confessed, made use of to 
the best advantage; for occasionally the indwelling sprite seems rather 
to be a gnome, or a black dwarf endowed with malicious propensities, 
than a beneficent fairy, such as we read of in the “good old times” 
when we wore pinafores, and had no cares but lessons. 
The great fault of all these birds is their extreme noisiness, and 
with every care, and much patience, we have not been able to succeed 
in breaking one of them of the habit, though we have succeeded in 
preventing their acquiring it, and others have been more fortunate 
than we; the Eev. J. Gr. Wood, for instance, who, writing about one 
of these birds, says: 
“This species of Parrot is not very good at talking, though it can 
learn to repeat a few words, and is very apt at communicating its own 
ideas by a language of gesture and information especially its own. It 
is, however, very docile, and will soon learn any lesson that may be 
imposed, even that most difficult task to a Parrot — remaining silent 
while any one is speaking. One of my pupils had one of these birds, 
of which he was exceedingly fond; and finding that although his body 
was in the schoolroom below, his mind was with his Polly in the room 
above, I allowed her to stay in the room on condition that the lesson 
should be properly learned. At first, however, Polly used to screech 
so continually that all lessons were stopped for the time, and I was 
fearful that Polly must be banished. However I soon overcame the 
difficulty, for every time that Polly screamed I used to put her into 
a dark cupboard, and not release her for some time. She soon found 
out my meaning, and it was very amusing to see her push out her head 
ready for a scream, and then check herself suddenly. She was a very 
nice Polly, and became a great favourite; her great treat was half a 
walnut, which she held tightly in ono claw, while she delicately prized 
out the kernel with her hooked beak and horny tongue. The end of 
the poor bird was very tragic; she got out of a window, flew to a tree, 
and was there shot by a stupid farmer” — one of those bovine-brained 
