"Come in!" said the parrot suddenly, quite softly, as if he had turned into quite another person. "Hush--sh--sh, cat's got a mouse!" "Well, Polly," said Aunt Emma, "I suppose she may have a mouse if she likes. Is that all you've got to tell us? Polly, where's gardener?" "Get away! get away!" screamed Polly, while all his feathers began to stand up straight, and his eyes looked fierce and red like two little live coals. "That always makes him cross," said Aunt Emma; "he can't bear gardener. Come, Polly, don't get in such a temper." "Oh, isn't he like the witches on the broom-sticks in our fairy-book, Olly?" cried Milly. "Don't you think, Aunt Emma, he must have been changed into something? Perhaps he was a wicked witch once, or a magician, you know, and the fairies changed him into a parrot." "Well, Milly, I can't say. He was a parrot when I had him first, twelve years ago. That's all I know about it. But I believe he's very old. Some people say he's older than I am--think of that! So you see he's had time to be a good many things. Well, Polly, good-night. You're not a nice bird to-night at all. Take him away, Margaret." "Jane! Jane!" screamed Polly, as the maid lifted up the cage again. "Make haste, Jane! cat's in the larder!" "Oh, you bad Polly," said Aunt Emma, "you're always telling tales. Jane's my cook, Milly, and Polly doesn't like cats, so you see he tries to make Jane believe that our old cat steals the meat out of the larder. Good-bye, Polly, good-bye. You're an ill-natured old bird, but I'm very fond of you all the same." "Do get us a parrot, mother!" said Olly, jumping about round his mother, when Polly was gone. "How many more things will you want before you get home, Olly, do you think?" asked his mother, kissing him. "Perhaps you'll want to take home a few mountains, and two or three little rivers, and a bog or two, and a few sheep--eh, young man?" By this time dinner was ready, and there was the dinner-bell ringing. Up ran the children to Aunt Emma's room to get their hands washed and their hair brushed, and presently there were two tidy little folks sitting on either side of Aunt Emma's chair, and thinking to themselves that they had never felt quite so hungry before. But hungry as Milly was she didn't forget to look out of the window before she began her dinner, and it was worth while looking out of the window in Aunt Emma's dining-room. Before the windows was a green lawn, like the lawn at Ravensnest, only this lawn went sloping away, away till there was just a little rim of white beach, and then beyond came the wide, dancing blue lake, that the children had seen from the top of the mountain. Here it was close to them, so close that Milly could hear the little waves plashing, through the open window.