k-birders, he talked excellent English, and from
contact with the necessary restraints of civilization was, on the whole,
extremely well behaved. Occasionally, when teased by the villagers and
his fellow-servants, he would break into childish rages, which bordered
on the dangerous. But a word from Braddock always quieted him, and when
penitent he would crawl like a whipped dog to the feet of his divinity.
For the most part he lived entirely in the museum, looking after the
collection and guarding it from harm. Lucy--who had a horror of the
creature's uncanny looks--objected to Cockatoo waiting at the table,
and it was only on rare occasions that he was permitted to assist the
harassed parlormaid. On this night the Kanaka acted excellently as a
butler, and crept softly round the table, attending to the needs of the
diners. He was an admirable servant, deft and handy, but his blue-lined
face and squat figure together with the obtrusively golden halo, rather
worried Mrs. Jasher. And, indeed, in spite of custom, Lucy also felt
uncomfortable when this gnome hovered at her elbow. It looked as though
one of the fantastical idols from the museum below had come to haunt the
living.

"I do not like that Golliwog," breathed Mrs. Jasher to her host, when
Cockatoo was at the sideboard. "He gives me the creeps."

"Imagination, my dear lady, pure imagination. Why should we not have a
picturesque animal to wait upon us?"

"He would wait picturesquely enough at a cannibal feast," suggested
Archie, with a laugh.

"Don't!" murmured Lucy, with a shiver. "I shall not be able to eat my
dinner if you talk so."

"Odd that Hope should say what he has said," observed Braddock
confidently to the widow. "Cockatoo comes from a cannibal island, and
doubtless has seen the consumption of human flesh. No, no, my dear lady,
do not look so alarmed. I don't think he has eaten any, as he was taken
to Queensland long before he could participate in such banquets. He is a
very decent animal."

"A very dangerous one, I fancy," retorted Mrs. Jasher, who looked pale.

"Only when he loses his temper, and I'm always able to suppress that
when it is at its worst. You are not eating your meat, my dear lady."

"Can you wonder at it, and you talk of cannibals?"

"Let us change the conversation to cereals," suggested Hope, whose
appetite was of the best--"wheat, for instance. In this queer little
village I notice the houses are divided by a field of wheat. It