onceited birds, and the way to make them notice you and begin talking
and screeching is to pretend you don't see them.'

So we walked on silently to the farther end of the terrace, in a very
matter-of-fact way, turning to come back again just as we had gone. And
I could be positive that the creature saw us all the time, for the row
of houses was very short, and he was well to the front of the balcony.

Our 'stratagem'--I have always liked the word, ever since I read _Tales
of a Grandfather_, which I thought a great take-in, as it's just a
history book, neither more nor less, and the only exciting part is when
you come upon stratagems--succeeded. As we got close up to the parrot's
house, next door to Mother Wylie's, you understand, _and_, of course,
next door to the invisible princess's, we heard a sound. It was a sort
of rather angry squeak or croak, but loud enough to be an excuse for our
stopping short and looking up.

And then, as we still did not speak, Master Poll, his round eyes glaring
at us, I felt certain, was forced to open the conversation.

'Pretty Poll,' he began, of course. 'Pretty Poll.'

'All right,' I called back. 'Good morning, Pretty Poll. A fine day.'

'Wants his dinner,' he went on. 'I say, wants his dinner.'

'Really, does he?' I said, in a mocking tone, which he understood, and
beginning to get angry--just what I wanted.

'Naughty boy! naughty boy!' he screeched, very loudly. Pete and I
grinned with satisfaction!

CHAPTER VI

MARGARET

THERE'S an old proverb that mamma has often quoted to us, for she's
awfully keen on our all being 'plucky,' and, on the whole, I think we
are--

'Fortune favours the brave.'

I have sometimes thought it would suit Peterkin to turn it into 'Fortune
favours the determined.' Not that he's _not_ 'plucky,' but there's
nothing like him for sticking to a thing, once he has got it into his
head. And certainly fortune favoured him at the time I am writing about.
Nothing could have suited us better than the parrot's screeching out to
us 'naughty boy, naughty boy.'

I suppose he had been taught to say it to errand-boys and boys like that
who mocked at him. But we did not want to set up a row, so I replied
gently--

'No, no, Polly, good boys. Polly shall have his dinner soon.'

'Good Polly, good Polly,' he repeated with satisfaction.

And then--what _do_ you think happened? The door-window of the
drawing-room of the next house, _the_ house, was push