That wicked bird used to strut around Philip while he was digging in
the garden, and after filling her crop with worms and grubs, she
flapped away on one wing and went round the hut looking for
amusement. She jumped on Pup's back, scratched him with her claws,
pecked at his skull, and pulled locks of wool out of it, the poor
innocent all the while yelping and howling for mercy. Sam never
helped Pup, or drove Maggie away; he was actually afraid of her, and
believed she was a dangerous witch. Sometimes she pecked at his
tail, and he dared not say a word, but sneaked away, looking sideways
at her, hanging down his ears, and afraid to say his tail was his
own. Joey, the parrot, watched all that was going on from his cage,
which was hung on a hook outside the hut door. Philip tried to teach
Joey to whistle a tune: "There is na luck aboot the hoose, There is
na luck at a'," but the parrot had so many things to attend to that
he never had time to finish the tune. He was, indeed, very vain and
flighty, sidling along his perch and saying: "Sweet pretty Joey, who
are you, who are you? Ha! Ha! Ha!" wanting everybody to take
notice and admire him. When Maggie first attacked poor Pup,
scratched his back, pecked at his head, and tore locks of wool out
of him, and Pup screamed pitifully to all the world for
help, Joey poked his head between the wires of his cage, turned one
eye downwards, listened to the language, and watched the new
performance with silent ecstacy.
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