rded a modest protection to Number Nine. They
ran the length of the house, and were much used by small boys as a
means of rattling sticks. One of these stick-rattlers passed as Bill
stood there looking down. The noise startled him for a moment, then he
seemed to come to the conclusion that this sort of thing was to be
expected if you went out into the great world and that a parrot who
intended to see life must not allow himself to be deterred by trifles.
He crooned a little, and finally, stepping in a stately way over the
window-sill, with his toes turned in at right angles, caught at the
top of the railing with his beak, and proceeded to lower himself.
Arrived at the level of the street, he stood looking out.

A dog trotted up, spied him, and came to sniff.

"Good-bye, boy!" said Bill chattily.

The dog was taken aback. Hitherto, in his limited experience, birds
had been birds and men men. Here was a blend of the two. What was to
be done about it? He barked tentatively, then, finding that nothing
disastrous ensued, pushed his nose between two of the bars and barked
again. Any one who knew Bill could have told him that he was asking
for it, and he got it. Bill leaned forward and nipped his nose. The
dog started back with a howl of agony. He was learning something new
every minute.

"Woof-woof-woof!" said Bill sardonically.

He perceived trousered legs, four of them, and, cocking his eye
upwards, saw that two men of the lower orders stood before him. They
were gazing down at him in the stolid manner peculiar to the
proletariat of London in the presence of the unusual. For some minutes
they stood drinking him in, then one of them gave judgment.

"It's a parrot!" He removed a pipe from his mouth and pointed with the
stem. "A perishin' parrot, Erb."

"Ah!" said Erb, a man of few words.

"A parrot," proceeded the other. He was seeing clearer into the matter
every moment. "That's a parrot, that is Erb. My brother Joe's wife's
sister had one of 'em. Come from abroad, _they_ do. My brother Joe's
wife's sister 'ad one of 'em. Red-'aired gel she was. Married a feller
down at the Docks _She_ 'ad one of 'em. Parrots they're called."

He bent down for a closer inspection, and inserted a finger through
the railings. Erb abandoned his customary taciturnity and spoke words
of warning.

"Tike care 'e don't sting yer, 'Enry!"

Henry seemed wounded.

"Woddyer mean, sting me? I know all abart parrots, I do. My brother
Joe's