of most of them which would otherwise have been killed
by careless boys or cats or dogs, or shot by the farmers who think they
rob them of their grain. Here they have air and sunlight and food and
the company of their kind, and are safe from danger, and if I part with
them, I know that they go into kind hands. But I must show you my
oldest friend; I keep him in another room, as he is apt to talk too
much, and my little songsters there don't understand him. I got him
from foreign lands years ago, and he and I have never parted company."

"Oh, I should so like to see the bird," said Fanny. "Can we come and
look at him?"

"I will bring him in here, young lady," answered old Alec, opening a
door which led to an inner room.

He quickly returned with a bird on his wrist, and Fanny thought she had
never seen one of more beautiful colours. Most of its plumage was of
the richest scarlet, while the top of its head was of a deep purple. On
its breast was a broad yellow collar; the wings were green, changing to
violet towards the edges, and while the feathers on its thighs were of a
lovely azure, those of the tail were scarlet, banded with black and
tipped with yellow. Its beak which by its shape showed that the bird
was a species of parrot, was of a deep rich yellow.

"I got this from the coast of New Guinea," said old Alec. "It is a very
hot country, and I always keep my pet as warm as I can, for fear of its
catching cold. I call it `Lory with the purple cap.' Speak to the
lady," said old Alec, stroking the head of the beautiful bird which
walked up and down his arm for a minute, and then stopping and looking
at Fanny, greatly to her delight said very clearly, "Good morning,
pretty one."

The bird repeated the sentence two or three times, and then mounting to
the top of its master's head cried out "Pipe all hands, hoist away boys,
belay there!" Then as if satisfied with its nautical performance,
descended to old Alec's hand, and sang two or three tunes very
distinctly.

"Lory can say a great deal more than you have heard, but he is not
always in the humour to talk, though he is an obedient bird, and
generally does what I tell him. Ah, Miss Fanny, I am very fond of my
Lory, he is as good as he is beautiful, yet in the land from which he
comes, there are birds still more beautiful than he is, with long tails
which glitter in the sun like jewels, and crests on their heads which I
doubt if the crown of our queen c