the groom, who was an
Irishman. Watching a favorable opportunity, she flew at him, caught hold
of his shirt bosom, and held it so tightly with her strong beak, that it
was some time before Mrs. Lee, who was attracted to the kitchen by the
noise, could make her let go her hold of the astonished object of her
hatred.

After this, whenever the women servants were displeased with the man,
they would slyly let Poll out of her cage, when she darted directly
toward him, and was thus the means of his losing many a dinner.

When his grievances became too heavy, he complained to his mistress, who
soon put a stop to such unjust proceedings.

One evening, when Mr. Lee drove into the yard, he heard Minnie laughing
heartily. Approaching nearer, he saw her sitting on the piazza; Leo,
looking rather ashamed, crouching at her feet; and Poll talking, in
great excitement, in exact imitation of his own tones--

"Leo, come here! good fellow! Down, sir! Leo, Leo! Hurrah, boys; what
fun!"

As it was near the time for his master's return, the dog had been more
readily deceived by the parrot's call, and had run rapidly toward the
house, when he perceived that he had been made a fool of, as he often
had been before.

A few hours later, they were talking it over in the library, when Mr.
Lee said he thought he had read an incident very similar.

Minnie joyfully clapped her hands, while her father took down the book,
and read,--

"A parrot belonging to a gentleman in Boston was once sunning himself in
his cage, at the door of a shop. Seeing a dog in the distance, he began
to whistle, when the animal, imagining it to be the call of his master,
ran swiftly toward the house.

"At this moment, the bird exclaimed, 'Get out, you brute!' when the
astonished dog hastily retreated, leaving the parrot laughing and
enjoying the joke."

"That reminds me," added Mrs. Lee, "of a story a lady once told me of a
parrot she owned, and which was really a wonderfully intelligent bird. A
new family moved into the neighborhood, consisting, among others, of two
young ladies, who always dressed very gayly.

"Polly had a bad habit of making remarks upon the passers by, as she
hung in her cage overlooking the main street. If, as was sometimes the
case, persons engaged in conversation stopped near the house, they would
often be startled by the cry,--

"'Go home, now! Want to quarrel?'

"But when she saw ladies dressed fashionably, she gave utterance to a
mo