Maybe the monkey's in the cloakroom, too, only the monkey can't
talk like Polly," went on Sue.
"Keep your seats, children!" said Miss Bradley. "I'll look in the
cloakroom. There is no need to be excited. A parrot will hurt no one,
nor a monkey, either. Keep your seats!"
As she opened the cloakroom door the harsh voice again sounded more
loudly than before.
"Bow! Wow! Wow!" it barked. "Cracker! Cracker! Polly wants a cracker!
Let's have a song! Ha! Ha! Ha!"
Then it began what I suppose the bird thought was singing.
The children laughed, and so did the teacher.
Out of the cloakroom flew the parrot, fluttering up on the teacher's
desk. There it perched, preening its feathers with its big beak and
thick, black tongue, now and then uttering harsh squawks and making
remarks, some of which could not be understood.
"Is this the parrot you meant, Sue?" asked Miss Bradley.
"Yes'm, that's Mr. Winkler's," answered Sue. "I can take it back to him
if you want me to. Polly knows me."
"And he knows me, too!" exclaimed Bunny.
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