I used to live in the grass lands. It was very warm there. I ran among the thick grass blades, and sat on the stems and ate seeds. I had a wife then. Her feathers were almost like mine. We never made nests. When we wanted a nest, we found a hole in a gum tree. I used to sing to my wife while she sat on the nest. I can mock other birds. Sometimes I warble and chirp at the same time. Then it sounds like two birds singing. My tongue is short and thick, and this helps me to talk. But I have been talking too much. My tongue is getting tired. I think I'll have a ride on Pussy's back. Good bye. * * * Parrakeets have a great fondness for the grass lands, where they may be seen in great numbers, running amid the thick grass blades, clinging to their stems, or feeding on their seeds. Grass seed is their constant food in their native country. In captivity they take well to canary seed, and what is remarkable, never pick food with their feet, as do other species of parrots, but always use their beaks. "They do not build a nest, but must be given a piece of wood with a rough hole in the middle, which they will fill to their liking, rejecting all soft lining of wool or cotton that you may furnish them." Only the male sings, warbling nearly all day long, pushing his beak at times into his mate's ear as though to give her the full benefit of his song. The lady, however, does not seem to appreciate his efforts, but generally pecks him sharply in return. A gentleman who brought a Parrakeet from Australia to England, says it suffered greatly from the cold and change of climate and was kept alive by a kind-hearted weather-beaten sailor, who kept it warm and comfortable in his bosom. It was not kept in a cage, but roamed at will about the room, enjoying greatly at times, a ride on the cat's back. At meals he perched upon his master's shoulder, picking the bits he liked from a plate set before him. If the weather was cold or chilly, he would pull himself up by his master's whiskers and warm his feet by standing on his bald head. He always announced his master's coming by a shrill call, and no matter what the hour of night, never failed to utter a note of welcome, although apparently asleep with his head tucked under his wing. [Illustration: AUSTRALIAN GRASS PARRAKEET.] [Illustration: COCK-OF-THE-ROCK.] THE COCK-OF-THE-ROCK.