“I’ll say the first and last letter of something in the surrey or that we can see, and then whoever guesses it can give two letters.”  So she gave “m——­r,” and Beth guessed mother at once; then Beth gave “h——­s,” and Bobby disgraced himself by guessing horse, but he was warm, because it really was harness, and Nan guessed it.  Then she gave “f——­s,” and that took them a long time, because it didn’t sound at all like flowers, but Bobby finally guessed it, and then he gave them “g——­s,” which mother guessed as girls.

“You tell us a story, motherdy,” said Ethelwyn, cuddling up close.  “I just love to hear you talk, I haven’t heard you for so long.”

“Were you homesick for me?”

“Not ezactly,” said Ethelwyn, “but I had a lonesome spot for you all whenever I thought about it.”

Ethelwyn always pronounced the word “exactly” wrong.  Her mother liked to hear her say it, however, and one or two more; “for they will grow out of baby-hood all too fast,” she said.

“I went over to see Miss Helen Gray yesterday,” said Mrs. Rayburn, “and she told me some funny stories about Polly, her parrot.  You know she is really a very remarkable bird.  Ever since Miss Helen has lived alone, she and Polly have been great friends, and it seems as though Polly really understands things she says to her.  She bought her in New Orleans, where she boarded next door to the Cathedral.  So Polly soon learned to intone the service, not the words, but exactly the intonation.

“One day Miss Helen, who allowed her all sorts of liberties, let her out, but first she made her tell where she lived. ‘1013 H——­ Street,’ Polly said.  ‘Will you be good and not get lost?’ ‘Yep,’ said Polly, so she went out, and Miss Helen heard her talking in the yard.  A lady came along beautifully dressed.

“‘La, how fine,’ said Polly.

“The lady looked around angrily, thinking it was a boy.

“‘Didn’t see me, did you?’ said Polly, and then the woman saw the funny little green bird on the lawn and she petted and complimented her until Polly felt very much puffed up.

“Miss Helen went in for a few minutes, though, and when she came out, Polly was gone, stolen probably by some one that slipped up behind her.

“Poor Miss Helen grieved and grieved over her, and offered great rewards, but to no avail.  In about a year she went to Florida, and one day, going by a bird fancier’s that she knew, the man invited her to come in, saying that he had a lot of new parrots to show her.

“O I wonder:  if Polly is there!’ she said, and told him about her.

“‘No, I haven’t any that know as much as that,’ said he; ’but there is one who looks as if she understood things, but she won’t, or can’t, talk.’

“So Miss Helen went in, and there, sure enough, was her poor Polly huddled up sulkily in a cage.

“‘Polly,’ called Helen, and Polly started and came to the front of the cage.