child.

"Don't cry, sweet," she went on, changing her voice again; "there,
there, pet, don't cry; hush up, hush up."

This conversation she carried on in the most approved baby style, until,
becoming excited by the laughter of the company, she stopped, and began
to laugh too.

After this, whenever she wanted to be very cunning, she would repeat
this performance, much to the amusement of all who heard her.

Poll was a very mischievous bird, and on this account was not let out of
her cage, unless Minnie or some one was at liberty to watch her.

Mrs. Lee, who usually sat in the back parlor, from which place she could
hear Poll talk, was sure to know if the bird was doing any great
mischief, for she always began to scold herself on such occasions.

"Ah, ah!" she exclaimed, one day; "what are you about, Poll?"

Mrs. Lee rose quickly, and advanced on tiptoe to the door, where she saw
the parrot picking at some buttons on the sofa, which she had often been
forbidden to touch. Much amused at the sight, she listened to an
imitation of her own voice, as follows:--

"Go away, I tell you, Poll! I see you! Take care!"

Finding her buttons fast disappearing, she suddenly entered, when the
bird went quickly back to her perch.

In the afternoon, when her husband returned from town, she related the
incident to him and to Minnie.

"That shows us," answered the gentleman, laughing, "how careful we
ought to be what we say before her; we shall be sure to hear it again."

After tea, when Minnie and her father were in the library, they heard
Poll singing a variety of tunes in her merriest tones. They stopped
talking a while to listen, and then both laughed heartily to see how
quickly she struck into a whistle, as Tiney walked deliberately into
the room in search of her little mistress.

"What a funny bird she is!" cried Minnie; "she runs on so from one thing
to another."

"In that respect she shows a want of judgment," replied her father;
"but, by the way, I have a story for you of a curious parrot, which I
will read.

"A gentleman who had been visiting a friend near the sea shore, and
concluded to return by way of a ferry boat, walked to the beach to see
whether there was one ready to start. As he stood looking over the
water, much disappointed that there was none in sight, he was surprised
to hear the loud cry of the boatman,--

"'Over, master? Going over?'

"'Yes, I wish to go,' he answered, looking eagerly about.