ran
through every one present. That a Pretenderette should dare to speak so
to a Hippogriff!
Suddenly the parrot spread its wings and flew to perch on Philip's
shoulder. It whispered in his ear.
'Whispering is not manners, I know,' it said, 'but your own generous
heart will excuse me. "Parcel of birds and children." Doesn't your blood
boil?'
Philip thought it did.
'Well, then,' said the bird impatiently, 'what are we waiting for?
You've only got to say the word and I'll take her back by the ear.'
'I wish you would,' said Philip from the heart.
'Nothing easier,' said the parrot, 'the miserable outsider! Intruding
into _our_ expedition! I advise you to await my return here. Or if I am
not back by the morning there will be no objection to your calling,
about noon, on the Dwellers. I can rejoin you there. Good-bye.'
It stroked his ear with a gentle and kindly beak and flew into the air
and circled three times round the detested motor lady's head.
'Get away,' she cried, flapping her hands furiously; 'call your silly
Poll-parrot off, can't you?' And then she screamed, 'Oh! it's got hold
of my ear!'
'Oh, don't hurt her,' said Lucy.
'I will not hurt her;' the parrot let the ear go on purpose to say this,
and the Pretenderette covered both ears with her hands. 'You person in
the veil, I shall take hold again in a moment. And it will hurt you much
less if the Hippogriff and I happen to be flying in the same direction.
See? If I were you I should just say "Go back the way you came, please,"
to the Hippogriff, and then I shall hardly hurt you at all. Don't think
of getting off. If you do, the dogs will have you. Keep your hands over
your ears if you like. I know you can hear me well enough. Now I am
going to take hold of you again. Keep your hands where they are. I'm not
particular to an ear or so. A nose will do just as well.'
The person on the Hippogriff put both hands to her nose. Instantly the
parrot had her again by the ear.
'Go back the way you came,' she cried; 'but I'll be even with you
children yet.'
The Hippogriff did not move.
'Let go my ear,' screamed the lady.
'You'll have to say please, you know,' said Philip; 'not to the bird, I
don't mean that: that's no good. But to the Hippogriff.'
'_Please_ then,' said the lady in a burst of temper, and instantly the
white wings parted and spread and the Hippogriff rose in the air. Polly
let the ear go for the moment to say:
'I shan't hurt
|