IV.
_THE PARROT._
Meanwhile the children were amusing themselves with the parrot. Thewhole flock had followed Jessie to make his acquaintance, Maggie havingcalled the others to join them; and even the still sobbing Belle forgother troubles in this new object of interest.
The bird proved to be in a most amiable and sociable humor; and, to thegreat delight of his former little mistress, exhibited himself in amost gratifying manner.
His cage was placed before a little stand just outside of a windowopening upon the verandah; and when the children first saw him he wasswinging head downwards from one of the bars, hanging by one claw, andappearing to take no notice of any thing until Jessie called to him.
Then he put out the other claw, and swung himself upright; immediatelycommencing a kind of dance upon his perch, as if in an ecstacy, andcalling out,--
"Jessie! Jessie! pretty Jessie, good Jessie."
"Good Polly," said Jessie, while the children gathered around in greatdelight. "How are you, Polly?"
"Polly pretty well; Polly all right," answered the bird.
The little girls were astonished, as indeed were the ladies who hadaccompanied them. Not one among the group but had often seen parrotswho would repeat certain set phrases, but this bird actually answeredquestions, and as if he understood them too.
"What does Polly want?" asked Jessie, delighted at the sensation herpet was producing.
"Polly want a bit of sugar," answered the bird.
Jessie put her hand into her pocket, and produced one of thesugar-plums the children had thrown to her, and held it up before theparrot's greedy eyes.
"Dance a jig then, and sing a song, Polly," she said.
Polly forthwith commenced a kind of seesaw on his perch, swaying hisbody back and forth, balancing himself first on one foot, then onthe other, in a measured sort of way which he probably supposed tobe dancing. At any rate, his audience were contented to accept it assuch, and he met with continued applause, until suddenly bringing hisgyrations to a close he screamed in a loud, discordant voice,--
"Sugar!"
"Sing then," said Jessie.
In a sharp, cracked, but very distinct voice, and with some resemblanceto a tune, the parrot began,--
"Mary had a little lamb, Its fleece was white as snow, And everywhere that"--
Here he came to an abrupt close, eying the sugar-plum wistfully.
"Sing it," said Jessie; and he began again.
"Mary had a little lamb, Its fleece was white as snow, And everywhere that Mary went, The lamb--sugar--sugar--sugar,"
screamed the creature, amid peals of laughter from the children,who now begged that he might have the coveted reward, which Jessieaccordingly gave him.
"He knows it all," she said; "but I can hardly ever make him sing itthrough."
Poll took the sugar-plum gingerly in one claw, and sat nibbling at ittill it was all gone, while the children crowded around him, admiringhis gay, bright-colored feathers, and expressing their wonder at hisaccomplishments and sense.
"Now you must show off some more," said Jessie, when the bird haddisposed of his feast. "Polly, where is the naughty child?"
To the intense delight of the children, Poll began to scream and cryexactly like a passionate child, after which he laughed and chuckledwith satisfaction at his own performances, then crowed like a rooster,baa-ed like a nanny-goat, barked like a dog, and mewed like a cat.After all this he took up intelligent conversation again.
"Polly's a pr-r-r-etty bird; Polly's a good bird; Polly's a wise bird,"he screamed, in all of which his little hearers entirely agreed.
"Who do you love, Polly?" asked Jessie.
"Polly love Jessie; Jessie a good girl," was the answer.
"Where's your master, Polly?"
"Bob Malcolm gone to sea. Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye," screamed theparrot.
"Sing a song of"--began Jessie, and the parrot took up the strain.
"Sing a song of sixpence, A pocket full of rye"--
Here he came to a stop, nor could he be coaxed to finish the couplet,though Jessie assured the audience that he could, if he chose, sing thefirst four lines of the old song all through.
However, he condescended to repeat some of his former performances. Butit would take too long to tell all the feats of this remarkable bird;and you must not think that these I have related are quite impossible,for I have seen a parrot who could do all that is here described, andmore too. The children were so interested and amused that they couldscarcely be persuaded to leave him when Patrick announced that theirlunch was ready; and Jessie, who was bidden by Miss Ashton to join hergrandfather and share the meal provided for him, was begged to keepwithin call, so that they might return to the entertainment when theyhad finished their lunch.
While this was going on, Miss Ashton told the story she had heard fromold Malcolm, and said that she was so much interested in him andhis grandchild, that she would go after lunch and see the clergyman,while the little girls amused themselves for a while under the careof the other ladies. She carried out this purpose, and went on herkind errand, followed by many a hope that she would find the story allcorrect.
But when the children went back to the parrot they were disappointed,for he proved cross or tired or in a less sociable mood than he hadbeen before, and he very rudely turned his back upon them, and wouldutter no words save,--
"Hold your tongue! Hold your tongue!" every time any one spoke to him.So, finding this neither polite nor amusing, the company left him andscattered themselves in search of other entertainment.
"How sober you look, Maggie; what are you thinking about?" asked HattieLeroy, coming up to where Maggie Bradford stood leaning upon a stonerailing.
Maggie looked thoughtful, it may be, but hardly sober, for herthoughts seemed pleasant ones, to judge by the light in her eye, andthe half smile upon her lip.
"I have an idea," said Maggie, "and I think it's a nice one, at leastif we are allowed to do it."
"What is it?" asked Hattie.
"Well," said Maggie, "I don't care to have it talked about very muchtill we know if we can do it; but I was thinking it would be sonice if we could have a little fair, just ourselves, you know, theschool-children and Bessie and me. I know some children who had a fairin their own house, and they made money enough to pay for a bed in St.Luke's Hospital for a poor, lame child; and I thought perhaps we couldmake enough to buy back Jessie's parrot for her; and to make a morecomfortable home for them. We could make things for the fair, and askour friends to help us. Mamma would make some for us, I know, and sowill Aunt Annie, and, I think, Aunt Bessie and Aunt May."
"Where could we have it?" asked Hattie, who seemed much interested.
"In one of our own houses," said Maggie, "or,--that was another thoughtI had,--perhaps Miss Ashton would be so very good as to let us haveit at her house. The piazza would be lovely for it; and she generallylets us have some party-ish kind of a thing when school breaks up. Lastyear we had a giving of prizes; and at Christmas we had a Christmasfestival, and a queen both times."
"Yes," said Hattie, "and Gracie said it was shameful that you werequeen both times. She thinks it was very selfish in you."
Maggie colored violently.
"The queen was chosen," she said, "and the girls chose me. I did notmake myself queen."
"Well, Gracie did not like it one bit," said Hattie, "and she thinksyou had no right to be queen when you did not go to the school the lasttime."
Maggie was silent, but the gladness was gone from her face.
"Wouldn't it be too cold to have the fair on the piazza?" asked Hattie.
"Not by the time we are ready," said Maggie. "You know it will take agood while to make enough things, and Miss Ashton does not close theschool till the first of June. I heard her tell mamma so the other day.And by that time it will be quite warm and pleasant, and there willbe plenty of flowers. I was thinking we could dress the piazza withwreaths and
festoons and flags; and we could make some kind of a throneand canopy at one end. And there we could have the flower-table and thequeen behind it, with some maids of honor to sell flowers."
If Maggie imagined that Hattie would express any admiration or approvalof her plan, she was mistaken. Hattie seemed interested, and asked agreat many questions, as to how Maggie would arrange such and suchmatters, but she did not act as if she thought the "idea" very fineafter all, and this was rather different from the way in which Maggiewas accustomed to have her plans received. But she did not care forthat; she was not a vain child, constantly seeking for admiration, andshe was too full of her subject to pay much heed to Hattie's cool wayof hearing this one.
"I'm not going to say much about it till I see if mamma approves," shesaid. "Then I'll ask Miss Ashton and tell all the children about it.There are Bessie and Lily beckoning to me; let us go and see what theywant."
And away she ran, intending to tell her sister and Belle and Lily ofher plan on the first convenient opportunity; but not willing, as shehad said, to make it public till she learned if it could be carriedout. She did not yet feel as if she knew Hattie very well, and shewas rather astonished at herself for having talked so freely to her;but the truth was, that Hattie had come upon her rather unawares, andasked her what she was thinking of, at the moment when she was turningher "idea" over in her mind, and she had told her almost withoutreflection. Still she did not exactly regret having done so, and, afterwhat she had said, never supposed that Hattie would mention what shehad told her.
Upright, honorable Maggie judged others by herself, and was entirelyunsuspicious of evil.
It would take too much space in this little book, and you would notcare to have a particular description of all the various points ofinterest visited by our party throughout the day,--the Arsenal withits collection of wild beasts and monkeys; the great reservoir withits blue water, looking like a lake within walls, as indeed it is; thelovely Ramble through which they wandered for a long time, and manyanother pleasant spot. They are all familiar to many of you, and thoseto whom they are not, may make acquaintance with them some day.
You may be sure that Miss Ashton did not leave old Malcolm and hisgrand-daughter without some remembrance of this day, for she was notonly very sorry for them and felt that they were really in need ofassistance, but she also knew that Jessie and her wonderful bird hadadded much to the entertainment of her little flock. She gave Jessiemoney enough to furnish herself with materials to begin her littletrade again, and, leaving her address with her, bade her bring some ofher pretty toys to her house when they should be made.
They were all in the omnibus once more, and had started on theirhomeward way, all rather tired and quiet with the day's ramble, whenwhat was Maggie's astonishment to hear Hattie say,--
"Miss Ashton, Maggie and I have such a very nice plan. We thought wemight have a fair, just us children, and ask our friends to help us;and then we could sell the things we made, or that were given to us,and so earn a good deal of money to help Jessie and her grandfather,and to buy back the parrot for her. And we might have it when theweather is warm and pleasant, just before school closes, so that wecould have it out of doors; and perhaps, Miss Ashton, you would notmind letting us hold it on your piazza and in the garden. And Jessiemight make some of her pretty baskets and things for it, and we couldsell them for her. We thought we could raise a good deal of money thatway, for almost all our friends would be glad to come."
It would be hard to tell whether indignation or surprise was uppermostin Maggie's mind, as she sat utterly speechless and confounded, whileHattie ran on thus, disclosing in this public manner the plans whichshe had said were to be kept secret until her own mamma and Miss Ashtonhad heard and approved of them.
Yes, here was Hattie not only doing this, but speaking as if she hadbeen the inventor of the cherished "idea," and as if Maggie had onlyfallen in with it, perhaps helped it out a little.
Maggie was too shy to speak out as many children would have done, andto say,--
"That was my plan, Miss Ashton. I was the first one to think of that;"and she sat with her color changing, and her eyes fixed wonderingly andreproachfully on Hattie as she spoke, feeling somehow as if she hadbeen wronged, and yet not exactly seeing the way to right herself.
"Oh! that would be delightful," said Gracie. "Miss Ashton, do you thinkyou could let us do it?"
"Well, I might," said Miss Ashton. "That is not a bad idea, Hattie. Iwill talk to my mother about it and see what she thinks, and you mayall tell your friends at home, and learn if they approve."
"If we could have the fair on your piazza," continued Hattie eagerly,"we could dress it up very prettily with wreaths and flowers, and wecould make a kind of a bower at one end, and choose one of the girlsfor a queen, and let it be her throne-room, and there we could have theflower-table. Some of the children told me you always let them have afestival before vacation, Miss Ashton; and we might put it off till alittle later, so that it would be warm and pleasant, and we should haveplenty of flowers."
There was not one of the children who did not raise her voice in favorof the new plan except Nellie Ransom, who sat opposite to Maggie, andwho watched her changing face, and looked from her to Hattie withinquiring and rather suspicious looks.
Lily clapped her hands, and almost sprang from her seat.
"I'll begin to work for the fair this very evening!" she said. "Nomore of your putting off for me. I'll bring down mamma's ribbon-boxand worsted-box, if she'll let me, and ask her what I can have, andto-morrow I'll ask her to let me make something."
"And we'll ask mamma and Aunt Annie, won't we, Maggie?" said Bessie;"and Belle, we'll ask them for some things for you too."
Bessie received no answer from Maggie, who, feeling as if the wholematter had been taken out of her hands, poor child, and as if she hadbeen robbed of her property, dared not speak, lest she should burstinto tears.
"I have a whole lot of money saved up," said Lily, "and I'll take someof it to buy what I want to make pretty things, and keep the rest tospend at the fair."
"Haven't you to pay your missionary money to our box yet?" asked Bessie.
"Well, I haven't paid it yet," said Lily, "but I don't know if I willgive a dollar this year. I've supported the heathen for two years now,and I think I'd like a little change of charity. Wouldn't you, Maggie?"
Maggie only nodded assent, scarce knowing what question she wasreplying to.
"Maggie," said Belle, "you don't seem very interested; why don't youtalk about the fair and give us new ideas, as you 'most always do?"
"Does something provoke you or trouble you, Maggie, dear?" askedBessie, looking into her sister's perplexed face.
"Hattie," said Nellie suddenly, fixing her eyes searchingly on thelittle girl she addressed, "what put that idea of the fair into yourhead?"
"Oh!" answered Hattie in some confusion, "I--that is, we, Maggie and I,just thought it would be nice, and so we talked about it a little, andmade up our minds to ask Miss Ashton about it."
Quick-witted Lily caught Nellie's suspicion, and so did Bessie; and theformer, who had worn an air of displeasure with Hattie ever since theaffair of the morning, asked promptly,--
"Who was the _first_ to make up that idea,--the fair and the queen inthe flower bower, and dressing the piazza and all? Who was it, I say?"
"Well," answered Hattie reluctantly, "Maggie was the first to thinkabout it, and we talked it over together and arranged it all."
"I knew it!" cried Lily triumphantly; "I just knew it was Maggie. Itsounds just like her making up. Hattie," she added reproachfully, "youtried to make us think it was yours."
"I didn't," said Hattie. "I never said so."
"You didn't just _say_ so," said Bessie solemnly, "but you tried togive that _depression_."
"I didn't," pouted Hattie again; "and we did talk about it together,didn't we, Maggie?"
Maggie only gave a faint smile by way of answer, for she felt that shecould not honestly
allow that Hattie had suggested one single idea; andstill she was too generous to wish to blame her more than she couldavoid.
And for the second time that day was Hattie made to feel that herwant of strict truthfulness had lowered her in the eyes of her youngcompanions.
"Umph!" said Lily severely; "appears to me, Miss Hattie"--
But she was not allowed to finish the intended reproach, for MissAshton, seeing symptoms of a quarrel, hastened to avert it, and gentlybade Lily be quiet.
Lily obeyed; but her eye still rested sternly upon Hattie, and thelatter was forced to bear more than one disapproving gaze during theremainder of the drive home.
"I am afraid," said Miss Ashton to her mother that evening, "thatHattie Leroy is by no means a truthful child;" and she told of theoccurrences of the day, adding that it was not the first time she hadnoticed a want of openness and uprightness, little acted deceits, akeeping back of the whole truth, and even, now and then a deliberatefalsehood; and more than all, a manner of repeating a thing which gaveit a very different meaning from what the speaker intended, so oftenmaking mischief and discomfort.
"That is bad, very bad," said Mrs. Ashton; "it may affect the otherchildren."
"I would rather hope that they may have a good influence on her,"answered her daughter. "The standard of truth is so high in our school,thanks, I believe, to dear little Bessie Bradford, Maggie, Belle,and one or two others, that any departure from it is considered avery serious offence. Lily, with all her thoughtlessness and love ofmischief, is strictly truthful; so are Dora and Nellie. Gracie is theonly one for whom I fear, for, although I think she would be shocked atthe idea of telling a deliberate untruth, her conceit and wish to befirst are so great that they often lead her to exaggerate and give afalse coloring to what she says of herself as compared with others."