e of conveying to
it some of its deadly sting; but the tip of Coco's horny appendage is a
long way from his tender points, and Scorpio must travel many an inch
before he can make the desired impression. Meanwhile the stork has
teased Scorpio's life out, and jerked his remains into that bourn whence
no defunct reptile returns. Our Coco's chief delight is to play with our
painting materials, where much amusement may be derived by upsetting a
bottle of varnish, or by distributing our long brushes in various parts
of the room.

A fund of entertainment is found in the displacement of every object not
too weighty for Coco to convey. Thus, when a wineglass or a small coffee
cup is missing, it will be discovered in the most unlikely spot, such as
the balcony, on the roof, or maybe in our neighbour's dusthole. By
Coco's sleight of _beak_, slippers part company and invite us to hunt
for them, as if we were playing a certain old-fashioned game. As for the
spoons, knives, and forks--they are disseminated everywhere like seeds
in a ploughed field.

Has anyone seen my inkstand?

Yes; it has caught Coco's eye, and it has consequently been caught up by
his chop-stick beak. With the agility of a sprite, he had hopped upon my
open writing-desk, and having duly overhauled the contents and carefully
transplanted each particular sheet of paper, envelope, pen and pencil,
he devotes his attention to the ink; half of which he must surely have
imbibed, for his beak remains parti-coloured for many days, and the
inkstand, which I discover on the first fine 'retreta,' reposing within
my best beaver hat, is perfectly empty!

To their credit, be it said, the two Cocos--male and female--never for
an instant part company. Where one trips, there trips the other. If
Senor Coco starts off on any important enterprise, his Senora gives a
croak expressive of her readiness to follow, and is after him like his
own shadow. Similarly, when la Senora Coco dives into the depths of an
old boot in quest of emptiness, her lord assists at the investigation.

Once only, my Lady Coco is missing; having wandered from the house, and
lost herself in an adjacent field. Until her reappearance, Lord Coco is
inconsolable. The pastimes of the studio and the patio have no
attractions for the bereaved bird. He fasts during the day, and croaks
dismally at night. But when the prodigal at last returns, Lord Coco is
quite another bird, and in a moment of rapture he secretes our