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The Cockatoo's Story Part 3

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On looking out of the window, Herbert saw his cousin Grace standing with a young visitor before the c.o.c.katoo's perch. Jane, the visitor, was calling him "Ugly c.o.c.ky! bad c.o.c.ky! ugly c.o.c.katoo!" and telling him that all the nice things would be given to the p.u.s.s.y cat, and everything disagreeable to him. She was doing this for no reason whatever, except that she once heard her brother speaking to a parrot in this manner to see it made angry; and poor c.o.c.katoo, who always considered himself a very pretty bird, and had never been spoken to so unkindly before, was certainly ruffled enough.

"Pretty c.o.c.katoo," he said in reply, looking from Jane to Grace, who could not bear to annoy the poor bird.

"Oh, don't speak so, Jane," said Grace; "c.o.c.katoo is such an amiable, pretty bird! He has been so good-natured ever since we came; and Herbert says he is trying to be contented, though of course he greatly prefers to live in his native woods, poor bird."

"But how does Herbert know the c.o.c.katoo likes that?" said Jane.

"Oh, because a fairy gave him permission to understand the language of the birds," replied Grace; "and the c.o.c.katoo told him his whole history."



"Oh dear! how funny!" said Jane. "I wonder if the fairy would give me permission!"

"No, I don't think so," said Grace; "people must be very kind to all the animals, both great and small, else the fairy will not give them that power. But Herbert says, if we are very kind to the animals, even although we do not understand their language exactly as he does, we will get to understand a different kind; and by the expression in their eye, and by their voice, will know when they are happy or sad. Now, you always kill every insect and fly you see."

"I really can't help killing them. I wonder why they were made at all,"

said Jane.

"But, Jane, do you never think how displeased G.o.d must be if you kill even a beetle?" said Grace. "I remember reading somewhere----

'The poor beetle that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies.'"

"I can't help it," said Jane; "I do hate beetles; and even if they do suffer, I must kill them."

By this time the two girls had come close to the place where Herbert and Charley were, and they heard what Jane said quite plainly. Herbert was about to express his indignation, when Polly called out, "I'm shocked! leave the room! murder! oh dear! oh fie!"

"You may well say so, Polly," said Herbert. "I cannot understand how any one can kill one of G.o.d's creatures--more especially a girl."

That afternoon, when the children were busily engaged playing at blowing soap bubbles, Jane stole out into the garden, and crossed over to where Polly was sitting among the bushes. Of late Mrs. Polly had rather enjoyed being set at liberty, and, with c.o.c.katoo, would sometimes defy the cat and her kittens. Coming up to her now, Jane began to tell Polly she never meant to kill an animal or an insect again; and that she meant to strive very hard, in the hope that the good fairy would let her understand the language of the birds.

Herbert, who had been playing as busily as any of his cousins, began to notice that the c.o.c.katoo was a good deal afraid of the airy soap bubbles--especially when they lighted on his back--and so he took him off his perch as quietly as possible, not to disturb the game, and carried him away, to place him beside Mrs. Polly. By this means he had overheard Jane's speech.

"I am very glad to hear you say so," he said. "I am sure if you would only take the trouble to examine a little more closely the insects you are so fond of killing, you would be surprised at their beauty. I will lend you my book, if you like. I really cannot understand why boys and girls take such little interest in natural history. Speaking of fairies, you will read of them there in the shape of the b.u.t.terflies--what can be more fairy-like?--and I will tell you what mamma often says: if we only knew what pleasure we could draw from common objects around us, rainy days would be less dreary, and we should have happier hearts and more contented minds."

"I feel you are right there, Master Herbert," said the c.o.c.katoo. "I have felt twice as happy since Mrs. Polly persuaded me to make the most of my present condition; and I ought to have known it by experience--having brought all my troubles upon myself by cheris.h.i.+ng a discontented spirit."

"Ah, children, children," said Mrs. Polly, with a wise shake of her head, "when you come to look back upon life from as long a pilgrimage, you will see that the busier you are, and the more good you do, there will be less inclination to be discontented. And with such a beautiful world around you, and so much to learn about it, and the wise lessons it can teach, who would be anything but contented?--But I am keeping you from your companions, Master Herbert, so I must wish you good-day, sir.

Good-day, miss," said Polly in English; "I'll now take a nap;" and with that she laid her head on her back, and went off to sleep.

As c.o.c.katoo followed her example, Herbert knew by experience no more could be got out of them; and with a united "Good-bye, dear old Polly!

Good-bye, c.o.c.katoo!" Herbert and Jane returned to the house and were soon sending a whole fleet of soap-bells up into the suns.h.i.+ne.

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ON THE WAY; or, Places Pa.s.sed by Pilgrims.

THE CITY OF NOCROSS, and its Famous Physician.

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CYRIL ASHLEY. A Tale.

CLAUDIA. A Tale.

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