The Cockatoos Story

Mrs. George Cupples
The Cockatoo's Story, by Mrs.
George Cupples

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Title: The Cockatoo's Story
Author: Mrs. George Cupples
Release Date: June 5, 2007 [EBook #21685]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

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* * * * *
[Illustration: A GREEDY DOG
Page 80.]

"I begin to be ashamed of myself--I really do," said a white cockatoo,
as he sat on his perch one day. Then he gave himself a good shake, and
after walking up and down once or twice, he continued, "I think it
vexes the boy, and I can see he means to be kind. And, oh dear, dear! I
see now I brought the troubles on myself."
"Kind!" screamed a small gray parrot from a perch on the opposite side;
"of course he means to be kind. You won't often meet a kinder; let me
tell you that, sir. If I could only get this chain off my foot, I'd come
over and give you as good a pecking as ever you got in your life, you
sulky, ungrateful bird you! And then Master Herbert stands, day after
day, trying to tempt you with the daintiest morsels, and there you sit
and sulk, or take it with your face turned from him, when hunger forces

"There is no need to be so angry, old lady," replied the cockatoo.
"Didn't you hear me say, I begin to be ashamed of myself? But if you
only knew how I have been used, you would not wonder at my sulks."
"Oh, if you have a foundation for your conduct, then I'll be happy to
retract," said Mrs. Polly, walking about her perch very fast indeed, and
ruffling up her feathers as she walked. "No bird I ever had the pleasure
of living beside could say I was unreasonable; so please state your case,
state your case--I'm all attention, at-ten-tion;" and she lengthened out
the last word with a shrill scream peculiar to parrots.
"But it would take ever so long to tell," said the cockatoo, "and my
feelings or my nerves have got the better of me at this moment, and I
really couldn't; only if you heard my history you would think it very
wonderful indeed;" and here Mr. Cockatoo lifted up his foot and
scratched his eye.
"A history, did you say?" said the gray parrot, pausing in her walk
along her perch, and looking at him over her back. "Pray, how old are
you, may I ask?"
"Well, I'll be about two years old," said the cockatoo, straightening
himself up, and looking over to the gray parrot, as if he expected the
news would surprise her greatly.
"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Mrs. Polly; "two years old, and has a history! Oh
dear! my old sides will split. What a youth he is, to be sure, ha, ha, ha!"
"I don't see anything to laugh at," said the poor cockatoo, collapsing
into his sulky state once more. "I tell you I have a history, and a
wonderful history too. I wish you would stop that chatter."
"Boy, boy, you'll be the death of me," said Mrs. Polly, not in her own
language, but in the words taught her by Master Herbert.
"Oh, if you are going to speak in the language used by these

abominable people who keep us here as prisoners and slaves, I've
nothing more to say," said the poor cockatoo, scratching his eye once
"Well, I won't then," said Mrs. Polly graciously. "I have been told it is
the height of bad manners to speak in a foreign language, if it is not
understood by your companion, so I shall confine myself, when
addressing you, to my mother tongue. And now, since you have told
me your age, would you like to know mine?"
"Yes," said the cockatoo, for he really was a little puzzled as to Mrs.
Polly's behaviour.
"Well, I'm seventy years old!" replied Mrs. Polly, drawing up her neck
as far as its limited length would permit. "And now you can understand
why I laughed, sir; for it did look a
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