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Birds, Vol. III, No 1, January 1898

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<h2>THE ROSE COCKATOO.</h2> <hr style="width: 15%;" /> I look like a foreigner, don’t I? You may search through the forests of America and you won’t find a bird that looks like me. My family live in New Guinea; we speak English when we get among English people, Spanish when we get among Spanish people, and French when we get among French people. If you don’t believe it, just say “Parlez-vous Français, Monsieur?” and see how quickly I’ll open my pretty mouth and answer “Oui.” If you don’t understand that, ask your teacher what it means. I once lived in a French family, you see. You don’t think my mouth is pretty, did you say? Well, that is according to taste. I think it is. Of course, my bill turns in like a hook, as Miss Poll Parrot’s does, and my tongue is thick like hers, but I fancy I talk much plainer than she does. Anyway I talk louder. Why, if you should happen to hear, without seeing me, you would think it was a man’s strong voice talking to a deaf person. And then my laugh! You should hear me laugh when I’m angry. Whew! Have you ever heard a hyena in the Zoo? Well, it sounds something like that. I am a large, handsome bird. My eyes also are large, and so are my feet. That is the reason I not only talk, but walk Spanish, I suppose. But, my cap! That is what distinguishes me. You never saw a common Parrot with a crest like that. When I am angry the feathers stand straight up, opening and closing just like a lady’s fan. The next time your mamma or papa takes you to the Zoo, turn to the cage of foreign birds and see if one of our family is not there. Maybe he will talk to you and maybe he’ll not. He would if you could get into his cage and stroke his head. I am sure he would laugh if you tell him Mr. Rose Cockatoo sends his love. <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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