s he could.

"You screamer!" said the lady, throwing a white handkerchief
over the cage.

"Tweet, tweet," sighed he, "what a dreadful snowstorm!" and then
he became silent.

The clerk, or as the lady called him the field-bird, was placed in
a little cage close to the canary, and not far from the parrot. The
only human speech which Polly could utter, and which she sometimes
chattered forth most comically, was "Now let us be men." All besides
was a scream, quite as unintelligible as the warbling of the
canary-bird, excepting to the clerk, who being now a bird, could
understand his comrades very well.

"I flew beneath green palm-trees, and amidst the blooming
almond-trees," sang the canary. "I flew with my brothers and sisters
over beautiful flowers, and across the clear, bright sea, which
reflected the waving foliage in its glittering depths; and I have seen
many gay parrots, who could relate long and delightful stories.

"They were wild birds," answered the parrot, "and totally
uneducated. Now let us be men. Why do you not laugh? If the lady and
her visitors can laugh at this, surely you can. It is a great
failing not to be able to appreciate what is amusing. Now let us be
men."

"Do you remember," said the canary, "the pretty maidens who used
to dance in the tents that were spread out beneath the sweet blossoms?
Do you remember the delicious fruit and the cooling juice from the
wild herbs?"

"Oh, yes," said the parrot; "but here I am much better off. I am
well fed, and treated politely. I know that I have a clever head;
and what more do I want? Let us be men now. You have a soul for
poetry. I have deep knowledge and wit. You have genius, but no
discretion. You raise your naturally high notes so much, that you
get covered over. They never serve me so. Oh, no; I cost them
something more than you. I keep them in order with my beak, and
fling my wit about me. Now let us be men.

"O my warm, blooming fatherland," sang the canary bird, "I will
sing of thy dark-green trees and thy quiet streams, where the
bending branches kiss the clear, smooth water. I will sing of the
joy of my brothers and sisters, as their shining plumage flits among
the dark leaves of the plants which grow wild by the springs."

"Do leave off those dismal strains," said the parrot; "sing
something to make us laugh; laughter is the sign of the highest
order of intellect. Can a dog or a horse laugh? No, they can cry;
but to man alone is the po