dn't understand if I did. She never had your
advantages, dear," said Miss Penny, admiringly. "Here, now you have had
a nice nap, and I'll move you out into the sun, and give you a drop of
Bird Bitters. Take it now, a Beauty Boy. Prudence, I wish't you could
see him; he's taking it just as clever! I never did see the beat of this
bird for knowingness."

"Malviny Weight was askin' me about them Bitters," said Miss Prudence's
voice from the inner room. "She wanted to know if there was alcohol in
'em, and if you thought it was right to tempt dumb critters."

"She didn't! Well, if she ain't a case! What did you say to her,
Prudence? Hush! hush to goodness! Here she is this minute. Good morning,
Mis' Weight! You're quite a stranger. Real seasonable, ain't it, this
mornin'?"

"'Tis so!" responded the newcomer, who entered, breathing heavily. "I
feel the morning air, though, in my bronical tubes. I hadn't ought to go
out before noon, but I wanted to speak to Prudence about turnin' my
brown skirt. Is she in?"

"Yes'm, she's in. You can pass right through. The door's open."

"Crickey!" said Mrs. Tree's parrot, "What a figurehead!"

"Who's that?" demanded Mrs. Weight, angrily.

Miss Penny turned her back hastily, and began arranging toys on a shelf.

"Why, that's Mis' Tree's parrot, Mis' Weight," she said. "That's Jocko.
You must know him as well as I do, and better, livin' opposite neighbor
to her."

"I should think I did know him, for a limb of Satan!" said the visitor.
"But I never looked for him here. Is he sick? I wish to gracious he'd
die. It's my belief he's possessed, like some others I know of. I'm not
one to spread, or I could tell you stories about that bird--"

She nodded mysteriously, and glanced at the parrot, who had turned
upside down on his perch, and was surveying her with a malevolent stare.

"Why, Mis' Weight, I was just sayin' how cute he was. He'll talk just as
pretty sometimes--won't you, Jocko? Say something for Mis' Weight, won't
you, Beauty Boy?"

"Helen was a beauty!" crooned the parrot, his head on one side, his eyes
still fixed on Mrs. Weight.

"Was she?" said Miss Penny, encouragingly. "I want to know! Now, who do
you s'pose he means? There's nobody name of Helen here now, except
Doctor Pottle's little girl, and she squints."

"Helen was a beauty,
Xantippe was a shrew;
Medusa was a Gorgon,
And so--are--_you_!

Ha! ha! ha! crickey! she carries Weight, she rides a rac