""What"s the krect thing to do, polly?" i says, says i; "shall us kick or shall us bolt?"
""Come straight on, ye hold fool," says polly pea-blossom, says she.
"Gee up, says i, and away ye goes!
"Which i must now dror to a klose, dobbin, and which i does hope you"ll allers have a good home and good shoes, dobbin, till you"re marched to the knacker"s. Gee up and away ye goes!--
"Good-bye, dobbin, polly"s gone to sleep, and master is a-playin" the fiddle so soft and low like, in the meadow beyant yonder, which it allers does make me think o" what the parson"s old pony once told me, dobbin, o" a land where old hosses were taken to arter they were shot and their shoes taken off, a land o" green meadows, dobbin, and a sweet quiet river a-rollin" by, and long rows o" wavin" pollards like, with nothing to do all day, no "arness to wear, no bit to hurt or rein to gall. Think o" that, dobbin. Good-bye, dobbin--there goes the moosic again, so sweet and tremblin" and sobbin"-like. i"m goin" to listen and dream.
"Yours kindly,--
"Poor old Corn-flower."
III.
From Polly the c.o.c.katoo to d.i.c.k the Starling.
"Dear d.i.c.k,--If you weren"t the cleverest starling that ever talked or flew, with a coat all shiny with crimson and blue, I wouldn"t waste a tail feather in writing to you.
"You must know, d.i.c.k, that there are two Pollys on this wandering expedition, Polly the mare, Polly Pea-blossom, and Polly the pretty c.o.c.katoo, that"s me, though however master could have thought of making me G.o.dmother to an old mare, goodness only knows. Ha! ha! ha! it makes me laugh to think of it.
"They do say that I"m the happiest, and the prettiest, and the merriest bird, that ever yet was born, and I won"t be five till next birthday, though what I shall be before I am a hundred is more than I can think.
"Yes, I"ll live to a hundred, c.o.c.katoos all do; then my body will drop off the perch, and my soul will go into something else--ha! ha! ha!
Wouldn"t you laugh too, if you had to live for a hundred years?
"All that time in a cage, with only a run out once a day, and a row with the cat! Yes, all that time, and why not? What"s the odds so long as you"re happy? Ha! ha! ha!
"I confess I do dream sometimes of the wild dark forest lands of Australia, and I think at times I would like to lead a life of freedom away in the woods yonder, just as the rooks and the pigeons do. Dash my bill! d.i.c.k, but I would make it warm for some of them in the woods--ha!
ha! ha!
"Sometimes when the sparrows--they are cheeky enough for anything--come close to my cage, I give vent to what master calls my war-cry, and they almost drop dead with fright.
""Scray!" that"s my war-cry, and it is louder than a railway whistle, and shriller than a bagpipe.
""Scray! Scray! Scray--ay--ay!"
"That"s it again.
"Master has just pitched a "Bradshaw" at my cage. I"ll tear that "Bradshaw" to bits first chance I have.
"Master says my war-cry is the worst of me. It is so startling, he says.
"That"s just where it is--what would be the use of a war-cry if it weren"t startling? Eh, d.i.c.k?
"Now out in the Australian jungles, this war-cry is the only defence we poor c.o.c.katoos have against the venomous snakes.
"The snakes come gliding up the tree.
""Scray! Scray!!" we scream, and away they squirm.
"A hundred years in a cage, or chained by a foot to a perch! A hundred years, d.i.c.k! It does seem a long time.
"But the other day, when master put my cage on the gra.s.s, I just opened the fastening, and out I hopped. Ha! ha! ha! There were b.u.t.terflies floating about, and bees on the flowering linden trees, and birds singing, and wild rabbits washing their faces with their forefeet among the green ferns, and every creature seemed as happy as the summer day is long. I _did_ have an hour"s good fun in the woods, I can tell you. I caught a bird and killed it; I caught a mouse and crunched it up; and I scared some pigeons nearly to death, for they took me for an owl. Then an ugly man in a velvet jacket fired a gun at me, and I flew away back to my cage.
"I wouldn"t have got much to eat in the woods, and there is always corn in Egypt.
"But hanging up here in the verandah of the Wanderer is fine fun. I see so many strange birds, and so many strange children. I dote on children, and I sing and I dance to them, and sometimes make a grab at their noses.
"Hullo! d.i.c.k. Why, the door of my cage is open! Master has gone out.
"I am going out too, d.i.c.k.
"I"ve been out, d.i.c.k. I have had a walk round the saloon. I"ve torn "Bradshaw" all to pieces. I made a grab at Hurricane Bob"s tail, and the brute nearly bit my head off. Just as if his tail was of any consequence! I"ve been playing the guitar, and cut all the strings in two. I"ve pitched a basket of flowers on the carpet, and I"ve spilt the ink all over them, and I"ve danced upon them; and torn master"s letters up, and enjoyed myself most thoroughly. Ha! ha! ha! Master"s face will be as long as his fiddle when he comes back.
""Scray! Scray! Scray--ay--ay!"
"Well, no more at present, d.i.c.k my darling. I never tried to pull _your_ tail off, did I? I don"t think I have done very much harm in this world, and I never say naughty words, so, perhaps, when my hundred years are over, and my body drops off the perch, my soul will go into something very nice indeed.
"Ha! ha! ha!
"Scray! Scray!! Scray!!!
"Poor Polly."
IV.
From Hurricane Bob to his Kennel-Mate Eily.
"You said in your last, dear Eily, that you wanted to know how I enjoyed my gipsy life, and the answer is, "out and out," or rather, "out and in," outside the caravan and inside the caravan. If there be a happier dog than myself in all the kingdom of kenneldom, let him come right up and show himself, and the probability is we"ll fight about it right away.
"Well, you see, I don"t take many notes by the way, but I notice everything for all that.
"First thing in the morning I have my breakfast and a trot out.
"It pains me though to see so many poor dogs muzzled. I am sure that Carlyle was right, and that most men--especially magistrates--are fools.
Wouldn"t I like to see some of them muzzled just?--the magistrates, I mean.
"Every dog on the street makes room for me, and if they don"t--you know what I mean, Eily.
"The other day a Scotch collie--and you know, Eily, you are the only Scotch collie I could ever bear--walked up to me on the cliff-top at Filey, and put up his back. As he did not lower his tail, I went straight for him, and it would have done you good to see how I shook him. There was a big dandy on me too, and as soon as I had quietened the collie I opened the dandy up. My bites are nearly well, and I am quite prepared for another fight. I won"t allow any dog in the world to come spooning round my master.
"We travel many and many a long mile, Eily, and I am generally tired before the day is done, but at night there is another long walk or a run behind the tricycle. Then a tumble on the greensward; sometimes it is covered all over with beautiful flowers, prettier than any carpet you ever lay upon.
"Everybody is so kind to me, and the ladies fondle me and say such pretty things to me. I wonder they don"t fondle master and say pretty things to him. I wish they would.