wife's sister 'ad one of 'em. They don't 'urt yer, not if you're
kind to 'em. You know yer pals when you see 'em, don't yer, mate?" he
went on, addressing Bill, who was contemplating the finger with one
half-closed eye.

"Good-bye, boy," said the parrot, evading the point.

"Jear that?" cried Henry delightedly. "'Goo'-bye, boy!' 'Uman they
are!"

"'E'll 'ave a piece out of yer finger," warned Erb the suspicious.

"Wot, 'im?" Henry's voice was indignant. He seemed to think that his
reputation as an expert on parrots had been challenged. "'E wouldn't
'ave no piece out of my finger."

"Bet yer a narf-pint 'e would 'ave a piece out of yer finger,"
persisted the sceptic.

"No blinkin' parrot's goin' to 'ave no piece of no finger of mine! My
brother Joe's wife's sister's parrot never 'ad no piece out of no
finger of mine!" He extended the finger further and waggled it
enticingly beneath Bill's beak. "Cheerio, matey!" he said winningly.
"Polly want a nut?"

Whether it was mere indolence or whether the advertised docility of
that other parrot belonging to Henry's brother's wife's sister had
caused him to realize that there was a certain standard of good
conduct for his species one cannot say; but for a while Bill merely
contemplated temptation with a detached eye.

"See!" said Henry.

"Woof-woof-woof!" said Bill.

"_Wow-Wow-Wow_!" yapped the dog, suddenly returning to the scene and
going on with the argument at the point where he had left off.

The effect on Bill was catastrophic. Ever a high-strung bird, he lost
completely the repose which stamps the caste of Vere de Vere and the
better order of parrot. His nerves were shocked, and, as always under
such conditions, his impulse was to bite blindly. He bit, and
Henry--one feels sorry for Henry: he was a well-meaning man--leaped
back with a loud howl.

"'That'll be 'arf a pint," said Erb, always the business man.

There was a lull in the rapid action. The dog, mumbling softly to
himself, had moved away again and was watching affairs from the edge
of the sidewalk. Erb, having won his point, was silent once more.
Henry sucked his finger. Bill, having met the world squarely and shown
it what was what, stood where he was, whistling nonchalantly.

Henry removed his finger from his mouth. "Lend the loan of that stick
of yours, Erb," he said tensely.

Erb silently yielded up the stout stick which was his inseparable
companion. Henry, a vastly different man from the