moment he seemed to recognize her as a friend, and to adopt her as an
intimate--marks of esteem he accorded to very few others. Norah had
handed him to Jim on arriving at the house, a change which the bird
resented by a savage attack on Jim's thumb. Jim was no hero--at the age
of eleven, he dropped the cockatoo like a hot coal. "Great Caesar!" he
exclaimed, sucking his thumb, and Caesar he was christened in that
moment.

After his recovery, which was a long and tedious process, Caesar showed
no inclination to leave the homestead. He used to strut about the back
yard, and frequent the kitchen door, very much after the fashion of a
house-dog. He was, indeed, as valuable as a watch-dog, for the
appearance of any stranger was the signal for a volley of shrieks and
chatter, sufficient to alarm any household. However, Caesar's liberty had
to be restricted, for he became somewhat of a menace to all he did not
choose to care for, and his attacks on the ankles were no joking matter.

To the dogs he was a constant terror. He hated all alike, and would "go
for" big Tait as readily as for cheerful little Puck, and not a dog on
the place would face him. So at last a stand and a chain were bought for
Caesar, and on his perch he lived in solitary splendour, while his
enemies took good care to keep beyond his reach. Norah he always loved,
and those whom he had managed to bite--their number was large--used to
experience thrills on seeing the little girl hold him close to her face
while he rubbed his beak up and down her cheek. He tolerated black
Billy, who fed him, and was respectful to Mr. Linton; but he worshipped
Mrs. Brown, the cook, and her appearance at the kitchen door, which he
could see from his stand, caused an instant outbreak of cheers and
chatter, varied by touching appeals to "scratch Cocky." His chief foe
was Mrs. Brown's big yellow cat, who not only dared to share the adored