Then came days of anxious waiting. Sometimes a teamster's shouts to
his horses up around the willows sent the Cap'n hobbling to the end
of the rope. An unusual rattling in the bridge put him at his post
with his teeth set and his eyes gleaming.




II


One day a mild and placid little woman in dove-gray came walking from
the bridge and handed over her penny. She eyed the skipper with
interest, and cocked her head with the pert demureness of a sparrow
while she studied the parrots who were waddling about their cages.

"I never heard a parrot talk, sir," she said. "I hear that yours talk.
I should dearly love to hear them."

"Their language is mostly deep-water flavor," said the Cap'n, curtly,
"and 'tain't flavored edsackly like vanilla ice-cream. There's more
of the peppersass tang to it than ladies us'ly enjoys."

The little woman gave a chirrup at the birds, and, to the skipper's
utter astonishment, both Port and Starboard chirruped back sociably.
Port then remarked: "Pretty Polly!" Starboard chirruped a few cheery
bars from "A Sailor's Wife a Sailor's Star Should Be." Then both
parrots rapped their beaks genially against the bars of the cages
and beamed on the lady with their little button eyes.