The Argosy, March 1907 — page 128: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

42 va -t a > See ~< "a in 7 : ¢ ar Bob VY , 8 "ee Nie) 9 a - f ¥ us had taken his departure. “ That bird goes to-morrow, if I have to wring his neck. And another thing—I’m going to find out where he came from. I don't believe he belonged to the Vandusens at all.” ae : AFTER breakfast next morning, Mr. Scales, having carefully covered up the cage with several sheets of paper, called a cab, and conveyed the obnoxious bird down-town. He drove first to his office, having some important business to transact, and left the parrot in the outer room. His” office boy, with the natural curiosity of youth, uncovered the cage sufficiently to let in the light and give him a good view of its inmate, but omitted to replace the paper, with the result that an elderly ‘woman customer was so scandalized by the parrot’s language that she left hur- riedly without waiting to obtain, the in- formation she sought. His business completed, Mr. Scales, cage in hand, proceeded to the repository of the auctioneer in the adjoining block. “Do you know this bird?” he~de- manded sternly of the proprietor. The auctioneer, who was dusting a chiffonier, suspended his labors and in- spected the parrot. “Tt looks like old Bradley’s parrot,” he said. ‘“‘ You mind old Bradley as kep’ the saloon on Nassau Street. I sold the bird to a lady yesterday. He’s a great talker, they tell me.” ‘Great talkér!” cried Mr. Scales ex- plosively. ‘I should say he was. What do you mean by selling such a bird to my wife? And how came old Bradley’s parrot at the Vandusen sale?” ‘Oh, that’s easy explained,” replied the auctioneer affably. ‘‘ That’s done all the time. Things go off better at a sale of that kind. That’s why I put the parrot in. The fact is that since the old man died his widow has been pretty hard up. She begged me to sell the bird for her. Said she hated to part with him, as the old man was so fond of him. It’s a wonder, too, the way he was always knocking her about and swearing at her—but she wanted the money. He went dirt cheap, too. What’s the matter with him?” THE ARGOSY. “ His I never He’s got me I want you to “Matter?” cried Mr. Scales. language is something awful. heard anything like it. into no end of trouble. take him back.” The auctioneer pursed his lips and shook his head gently. : “ Couldn’t do it, sir,” he said. ‘ Mrs. Bradley’s got the money. We don’t guarantee things we sell that way. Did you try throwing water on him? I’ve heard that’s a good way to cure parrots of swearing.” ‘I'd like to throw boiling oil on him,” replied Mr. Scales, wrathfully. ‘‘ Look here, I’ll leave him with you, and you see if you can sell him.” The auctioneer at once negatived the proposal. ‘T couldn’t hear of it, sir,” he said. ‘Not if he swears the way you say he does. Think of my customers.” ‘Well you could throw water on him,” suggested Mr. Scales, argumenta- tively. ‘“T’yve got something else to do than sprinkle parrots,’ the auctioneer replied with dignity. “No, sir. The best thing you can do is to get rid of the bird by private sale. Maybe one of your bache- lor friends might like to have him.” Mr. Scales retired in high dudgeon, and in the course of the morning made several ineffectual attempts to dispose of the bird. He was a conscientious man, and when, in response to pressing in- quiries, he: recited portions of the par- rot’s repertoire, negotiations were imme- diately broken off. On two occasions when he removed the cover from the cage the parrot saved him the trouble. When lunch time arrived he was no nearer a solution of the problem, and he drove dejectedly home, like a modern Frankenstein, with his monster occupy- ing the opposite seat, and softly running ~ over, in the gloom of his cage, a few of the more imperfect of his accomplish- ments. “Tt’s no use,’ Mr. Scales said to his wife, as he banged the cage down on the study table and waved one hand in the air, while the other rested on the apex of the wires, “‘ I’ve tried every way and I can’t get rid of it. No one seems to want the brute.” GComicbooks-co im