This Don Pedro of mine, after continuing many years faithful, took advantage of the circumstance of his feathers having grown a little too much, to fly away and disappear. He was sought by many, but without success. At the end of three days he saw me passing through a wood, and knew me instantly. Without delay he crept swiftly along the boughs by the help of his beak and claws, and flew to my shoulder, repeating the words Don Pedro. But though he lavished unbounded caresses on me, he atoned for this desertion by the mutilation of his feathers. I often wondered to hear this parrot repeat the sentences that he knew so opportunely, as if he understood the meaning of them; for when he was hungry, he cried _pobre Don Pedro_, poor Don Pedro, in a tone calculated to excite compassion, repeating those words again and again, till eatable roots, bread, or some other food was given him. These particulars, relative to my parrot, the memory of which is still dear to me, I have, perhaps with too much prolixity, related, in order to show you how great is the power of education, even upon brute animals. Female parrots learn to imitate human speech quicker and better than the males. My companion had one which could repeat the Lord's Prayer in the Guarany tongue. I could have fancied I heard a child praying. This circumstance is very surprizing, as we find that the females of other birds are almost mute. I never could understand how parrots, brought by Englishmen or Dutchmen from the remotest parts of Asia, Africa, or America, after travelling about so many months, or years perhaps, learn to pronounce sentences either in German or French, or any other language, when in Paraguay it is thought impossible to teach them to speak, unless they be brought unfledged from the nest; for when full grown we have found them quite indocile. They are most conveniently taught at night, or in a dark room, where no object presents itself to their eyes, no sound to their ears: though, whilst walking on their rope, or on a pole, in the court-yard, they insensibly learn to imitate dogs barking, horses neighing, cows lowing, old men coughing, boys whistling, laughing, or crying—being extremely attentive to every thing. By long experience I have found that parrots of every kind will learn better and more willingly from women and children, whose voices are sweeter, than from men. The paracaubaỹ is of the same size and form as the paracauteè; but its feathers are almost all green, with but a very sparing admixture of blue ones, and perhaps a little yellow, or red feather here and there on its head, wings, and tail. These birds babble some unintelligible stuff, but never utter an articulate sound. The aruaỹ, which is somewhat smaller than the former, is of a most lovely shape, adorned with red, yellow, and bright green feathers, and capable of talking a great deal, if instructed.