"I believe you say, 'Scratch-a-poll,'" said Miss Atherley, "but I
don't know why."

"Isn't that rather dangerous? Suppose it retorted 'Scratch your own,'
I shouldn't know a bit how to go on."

"It can't talk," said Archie. "It's quite a baby--only seven months
old. But it's no good showing it your watch; you must think of some
other way of amusing it."

"Break it to me, Archie. Have I been asked down solely to amuse the
parrot, or did any of you others want to see me?"

"Only the parrot," said Archie.

Evangeline paid no attention to us. She continued to wrestle with the
monkey-nut. I should say that she was a bird not easily amused.

"Can't it really talk at all?" I asked Mrs. Atherley.

"Not yet. You see, she's only just come over from South America, and
isn't used to the climate yet."

"Just the person you'd expect to talk a lot about the weather. I
believe you've been had. Write a little note to the poulterers and ask
if you can change it. You've got a bad one by mistake."

"We got it as a bird," said Mrs. Atherley with dignity, "not as a
gramophone."