admiral's opinion, for musicians are proverbially jealous of each other.

The song the parrot sang was "Listen to the Mocking Bird," to which
Mrs. Morris played a little gliding accompaniment on the piano. Great
hand-clappings always followed the performance. These Bessie accepted
with an air of studied indifference. But if for the purpose of teasing
her they did not applaud her performance, she shrilly screamed:
"Bessie's a good bird, a good bird I tell you," raising her voice
higher and higher at each repetition.

Then she would wait a moment for some one to assure her that she was
indeed a very good bird, quite the smartest bird that ever breathed.
But if these soothing assurances were not quickly forthcoming, she
would retire to the back of her favorite chair and, elevating her bill
to show her disdain, sulk in silence.

"Did she like you?" I asked the admiral one day when he was telling us
about her funny tricks.

"No, she was a little bit jealous of me; yet she was not unfriendly,
except when Johnny or some other member of the family paid me
attention. She always wanted to be the center of attraction herself,
which showed she was a vain creature. No matter how silent she had
been or how firmly she might have refused to talk only the minute
before, if Johnny came to my cage and called, 'Hello, Admiral! you're a
daisy,' Bessie immediately struck up such a chattering as would almost
deafen one.

"'Johnny dear, open my cage. I want to take a walk,' she would say in
her most coaxing manner. If she happened to be already out of her cage