Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 124, No. 2 — page 169: what you’re looking at

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

TEAGH: PIRATE DE LUXE. cates, and his long list of prize-winners at the Talking Parrot Show. William’s. own modest explanation of these feats was that he took pains. He en- tirely denied that he’d “a way ” with him. “Steady industry,” said William in true copybook style, “ would tame the most re- _fractory woman or parrot that ever wore feathers.” It was by no means all done by kind- ness. Not that he suggested unkindness for one moment. That only made them stubborn, and put things back. °° Make up your mind _to it,” counseled William, “ set down to it steady, and you'll never have a- failure with either, though I do admit that those gray birds you get from that merchant with the frilled ears who comes out of the Gambia can be very stubborn.”’. The parrots had been originally looted from the unfortunate S. S. Senegal which the Littondale captured between Sierra Leone and the islands on her homeward ‘trip. (She’d H. E. the Governor of the Ivory Coast on board, it will be remem- bered, a man who ought to have provided a rich ransom and didn’t.) Each bird was housed in its own proper green-painted gin- _case, which William had stenciled Kate, Gladys, Agerness, Ermyntrude, and so on, to avoid possibility of mistakes. They re- sided on the top of the after gun-house, and Admiral Teach admitted that they were of distinct value to the ship as camouflage. Instructional classes were held whenever William was off duty and felt that way inclined, and it must be admitted that the pupils made marvelous progress. William certainly “ had a way with him,” though he would not own up to it. Of course some of the fowls were high in the class and some low. Florrie, for in- stance, was preternaturally sharp, but soon forgot things. The thoughts of Gladys were always running astray to her beak, which was afflicated with a white powder. (Alas, how like her dear namesake in Devonport! ) Ermyntrude was vain and could only be managed by flattery. Jane Emma was slow, but never forgot anything once learned. ‘‘ Good old Jane Emma,” the gunner always called her, and 351 reminded her that it was steady and true as kept a man’s best affections. But they all progressed in their education. The Lit- tondale’s people marveled at the rate of their progress. - Perhaps I ought not to have used the word “ classes,” as the instruction given by Mr. William Pickles was half of it entirely individual. All the birds were taught to re- peat the phrases: “ Sweet William,” “ True William,” and “TI love William only,” but after that they specialized. The flashy Florry could rattle off ‘“ No lass in all the world like Fil-orry,” quite correctly three times out of four. Gladys, with her flighty intellect, stuck to “ Darling Gladys,” when she felt so-inclined. But the homely looking fowl with her tail in a perpetual moult could always be relied upon for an emphatic “ Good old Jane Emma.” ‘Mr. Pickles took a lot of trouble over this particular member of his ‘troupe. . But as Satan entered elsewhere to the confusion of industry and order, so did the Littondale’s bibulous chief engineer, Mc- Dow, intrude into the aviary on the top of the after gun-house. As an austere Wee Free, McDow looked upon octrigamy with black disfavor, and in his cold calculating . way set about to frustrate Mr. Pickles’s knavish tricks with scientific skill. He had been an old West Coast trader, McDow, till even the African climate got — too warm for him, and had made no small part of his year’s income in training parrots and thereafter selling them to the dealers in Liverpool and the Ratcliffe Highway. So when Mr. Pickles was below in his bunk, McDow made it his duty—when ship’s. business permitted—to be on topside with the parrots. You perhaps jump to the idea that Mc- Dow taught the creatures to swear, having in mind his own elaborate equipment of profanity. But he did not do this. Instead he drilled the Florry bird to murmur “ Sweetheart Gladys,’ and the Gladys fowl to chuckle ‘‘ Watch me kiss my Ermyntrude,” with an osculatory sound il- lustrative of that sentiment. And so on. McDow had a neat and pawky humor packed away in his vinous recesses. The result soaked in upon Mr. Pickles by COUMIUC AOOLK (CO ww