[Illustration: THE VIEW FROM THE LEDGE.] I therefore concerned myself no more about the parrot, thinking that, of course, as soon as the rain should stop, the bird would fly away. I had made a small table of three slabs of rock, where I frequently placed fruits, nuts, roots and the like, that I might have in case I should feel hungry when in my house, and yet not care to eat the fruit directly from the plant, which I most generally preferred. Of course, too, it was always desirable to have provisions on hand when it rained. The next morning, when I awoke, the rain was still descending, for it was just at this time that it rained for three or four days together. I always had a healthy relish for the good things of this world, and, as there was no rosy dawn to look at, my eyes immediately went in search of the breakfast-table. "What!" I exclaimed; and I sat upright in my hammock. There was the parrot on the table. I eyed him for some time, and then I cried out: "You little thief! Stealing my food, are you?" The parrot sat there, but said never a word. He merely raised one of his claws and sleeked up the feathers on the back of his neck, in the way his family know so well. Then, raising the feathers of his crest, he gave utterance to a very faint shriek. "Get out of this, you rascal!" I cried and immediately got up and went toward him with the purpose of putting him out. I approached the table very rapidly, expecting that the bird would fly away. But he remained motionless. I was about to lay rude hands on him, but I desisted. "Why do violence to the creature? Why mar the serenity of this peaceful vale?" I said to myself. "And why make such ado about a little fruit when there is abundance on every hand?" Happening just then to glance at the fruit, it seemed to me that it had not been disturbed. I examined it more closely, and began to feel I had done the parrot great injustice. There it lay, just as I had left it the night before; there was no evidence whatever of its having been picked at, and I came to the comforting conclusion that the handsome bird had broken no moral law. The parrot rose greatly in my esteem at this happy discovery. "Friend Parrot," said I, "I beg pardon for having so rashly jumped to the conclusion that you had been guilty of theft. I believe that you have touched nothing of the things which belong to me. Indeed, I am sure that you have not. That you have so scrupulously regarded the rights of property is to me the source of infinite gratification, and fills me with the highest admiration of your character. To show you that I am disinclined to let virtue go unrewarded, I accord you my permission to stay here while I am eating my breakfast, and when I have finished, you too may eat some, if you like."