On arriving at the cabin, we were somewhat surprised to see our
democratic friend the parrot, perched over the door, as if waiting to
welcome us to our new quarters. He appeared to be in no degree
disturbed at our approach, but greeting us with one or two boisterous
"Vive Napoleons!" maintained his position until we had passed into the
house, when he flew in also, and alighting on the shelf against the
wall, seemed to feel as much at home as any one. Johnny sagely
suggested that he knew that the rainy season was coming on, and was
anxious to establish himself in comfortable quarters until it was over:
possibly this supposition did our visitor injustice, by ascribing to him
motives more selfish and interested, than those by which he was really
actuated. It is more charitable to believe, that having been once
accustomed to human companionship, and being weary of his solitary life
in the woods, where his vocal accomplishments were wasted on the desert
air, he now sought our society, as being more congenial to his tastes
and education, than that of the feathered denizens of the forest. Be
this however as it may, "Monsieur Paul," (as he called himself), from
that time took up his abode with us, and though he would sometimes
disappear for days together, he was sure to come back at last, when, if
he found the door and windows closed, (as sometimes happened), he would
scream, and hurrah for "Sheneral Shackson," until he gained admittance.
One circumstance, which I am sorry to say throws some shade of suspicion
upon the pure disinterestedness of his motives, is, that he generally
went off at the commencement of fine weather, and returned a little
before a storm. This was so uniformly the case, that Max used to
prophesy the character of the weather by his movements, and often, when
to our eyes there was not the slightest indication of a change, he would
say--"There comes Monsieur--look-out for a storm presently"--and it was
rarely that he proved mistaken in such predictions.
The second day after our removal, there was a gale, in which great trees
were blown down or torn up by the roots. Though shaken by the force of
the wind, the cabin was too firmly built to permit any apprehension of
its being overthrown; and there were no trees of large size near it, by
the fall of which it could be endangered: but we should scarcely have
felt safe in our former dwelling.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account